Mess With Me

by Kylie Gilmore

  Table of Contents

  Mess With Me

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Mess With Me

  Happy Endings Book Club Series, Book 6

  © 2017 Kylie Gilmore

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  Ally Bloom attends her college reunion on a mission—a second chance with her first love. Turns out he’s single and…not interested. Their love is doomed! But when Ethan Case, the sexy cop friend of a friend, finds her crying in her spiked punch, he invites her for coffee with his date. Knowing he’s taken and she doesn’t need to impress him, Ally blurts the entire sucky men saga that is her love life.

  But wait! There he is at her Happy Endings Book Club meeting.

  And pulling her over for speeding.

  And in her classroom to talk to the kids about safety.

  Is the man just messing with her, or is this the beginning of something real?

  Author’s Note

  The Happy Endings Book Club was inspired by my own wish for a romance book club. I hope you’ll feel right at home with Hailey, the leader/matchmaker of the club, and all the single women there hoping for a happy ending. Ethan is one sexy cop on a mission—prove the right man is far better than a vibrator. I sure hope Ally finds out if that’s true. LOL Read on and join the club!

  Hidden Hollywood (Book 1)

  Inviting Trouble (Book 2)

  So Revealing (Book 3)

  Formal Arrangement (Book 4)

  Bad Boy Done Wrong (Book 5)

  Mess With Me (Book 6)

  Resisting Fate (Book 7)

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  Chapter One

  Ally Bloom stepped into her college reunion, looking for her lost love and prepared for rapture.

  Where the heck is he? She scanned the huge ballroom of the hotel for her target, coming up empty. Lots of twentysomethings pushing thirty mingled in cocktail dresses and suits, chatting about the “old” days four years ago back at UConn (University of Connecticut).

  Show yourself, man of my dreams. She and Dean had been texting back and forth over the past month and, after he’d said he couldn’t wait to see her at the reunion, his texts had become increasingly flirty, calling her beautiful and gorgeous. Bring your dancing shoes, gorgeous. It felt like a lead-in to a fresh start.

  She casually skirted the edges of the dance floor, hoping to sense the presence of her tall, dark, and handsome man for a passionate rekindling of love. The attraction would pull them together as inevitably as two moths to a flame but with less incendiary results.

  Not finding him, she wandered over to the bar, ordered the special, a fruity punch spiked with vodka, and took a sip. Should she work the room, wait for the dinner buffet and hopefully spot him at a table, or maybe ask the DJ to play her and Dean’s song? But what if Dean didn’t remember their song? They’d only danced to it once at his frat’s formal senior year.

  Maybe I’ll text him. No, wait. She wanted the wow factor of a face-to-face meeting considering the time she’d put in prepping for this event—hair, makeup, killer strapless red dress with matching pumps. Not to mention she’d gotten waxed, legs only because she could not take anything more intimately painful. Been there, smacked the esthetician. But these were the sacrifices she made to offer herself at her personal height of feminine beauty and appeal. Their love would do the rest.

  She hoped.

  Where was he?

  She watched the doorway, where people were still arriving. Maybe he’d step through the archway of navy blue, white, and gray balloons, their eyes would meet across the room and they’d communicate in that single loving gaze that there was nothing more they ever needed than each other.

  She sighed and took a healthy swallow of spiked punch. It had been so long since she’d been interested in any man. Some part of her wondered if it was because she was meant to be with Dean. And when her class organized a reunion so soon—normally it was five or ten years for classes to get back together—it felt like another sign from the universe. Fate had plans for them and it would be foolish not to be open to the possibility of a reconnection. Dean was her first love; they’d met sophomore year in a computer science 101 course that they were both completely lost in. They’d dated until a year after graduation when Dean declared he was “too young to settle down.”

  She’d floundered.

  Four months later in a total rebound situation, she’d briefly fallen for Mark, gotten engaged, and fled her own wedding, leaving poor Mark at the altar. At the time, she’d realized she was still in love with Dean. She’d called Dean immediately after—still in her wedding gown, for crying out loud—only to discover he had a girlfriend.

  She blew out a breath that made her blond bangs lift off her forehead. The anticipation was killing her.

  A tall man with short dirty blond hair across the room caught her eye. He stood, arms crossed in a white button-down shirt and black pants (no suit jacket or tie), taking in the room, his face set in a hard expression. Oh, hey, was that Ethan Case? He was one of the guys that grew up with the Campbell brothers. She’d seen him a bunch of times at Garner’s bar, hanging with the guys, but had never really talked to him one-on-one. She lifted a hand in a small wave that he missed because he turned and said something to the woman at his side, a tall brunette with a short cap of hair, in a black dress. Oh, it was his girlfriend, Cali. You could tell how close they were by the way they spoke in such a close intimate manner. Though neither of them smiled or touched each other. Well, not everyone was as affectionate as she and Dean were.

  “Ally?” a familiar masculine voice asked.

  She turned and gasped at the sudden appearance of Dean, which somehow made her choke on her own spit. She coughed like crazy and the love of her life helpfully pounded her on the back.

  “You okay?” he asked with a laugh. “Didn’t mean to sneak up on you like that.”

  “I’m fine,” she gasped out, her eyes watering. “Hi.” She coughed some more.

  He smiled his dimpled smile. “Breathe.”

  She did. “Yeah.” She sipped her punch, trying to regain the composure needed for their rapturous reunion.

  Dean pulled her in for a quick hug. “So good to see you again. How you been?”

  “Great!” She studied his handsome features, a little startled by his new look. They hadn’t texted current pics of each other. The man she remembered was a lacrosse jock who loved his frat, with shaggy dark brown hair and a scruffy jaw. Now his hair was short and neat, his jaw clean-shaven except for a small patch of hair on his chin. What was that called? A soul patch? The silver hoop earring was also new.

  He smiled, his brown eyes warm on hers. “Feels like old times being back for Homecoming weekend, seeing you. Did you catch the game?”

  She’d missed the football game due to her massive preparations for this moment. “Nope. Just made it here. So how’s Wall Street treating you?”

  He rocked back and forth on the balls of his f
eet. “Actually, being a stockbroker wasn’t for me. I’m selling solar panels now.”

  She tensed. When she’d asked him by text earlier about the world of stocks, he’d said living the dream! Clearly, he’d forgotten he’d said that. The lie rankled. Regroup. A fresh start meant things would be different, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t the same affectionate loving man underneath.

  She smiled, leaning closer and looking up at him under her lashes. “I’m so happy for you.”

  “Thanks.” He gave her a blatant once-over. “Damn, you’re smoking in that dress.” His hands went to her waist, spiking her body temperature. His voice was husky by her ear. “I got a room upstairs. Why don’t we head up?”

  She jerked away. “Wh-what?”

  He moved closer and admired her cleavage. “For old times’ sake.”

  She frowned, her heart sinking somewhere in the vicinity of her perfectly smooth ankles. “You said to bring my dancing shoes—”

  “We’ll be dancing all right. The horizontal monkey dance.” He waggled his eyebrows. “In the sheets,” he added as if she might’ve missed his sleazy reference.

  “I thought—” she nearly choked on her anger, on the complete mismatch of their expectations “—I thought you were remembering how good we were together. I thought this was a fresh start.”

  “Ally.” His condescending tone cut deep. “You know I love you, but I don’t love you. Understand? I’m not into you in that way. I just thought we could have a little fun.”

  The breath knocked right out of her. Not that way? She sucked in air, her heart thundering in her ears, her hands icy. She struggled to comprehend. They’d been together for four years, madly in love. “How could it not be that way?”

  He gave her a sympathetic look that twisted the knife in her gut. “Things changed.” He waved at someone over her shoulder. “Olivia!” He turned back to her with a warm smile. “Great to see you, Ally. Take care.”

  Then he left, heading over to Olivia, a gorgeous woman in a tight pale lavender dress with black fuck-me stilettos.

  She stood there for a full minute in total shock, shaky and cold, so very cold. How many women had he texted to reconnect with at this event? Her gut churned.

  His laugh reached her, where he was holding Olivia’s hand, walking out with her. Probably to go to his room for a “little fun.”

  She couldn’t bear it. She did an about-face, walked out of the ballroom, down the hallway, and straight to the ladies’ room.

  Unfortunately, there was a line out the door. Dammit, could this night get any worse?

  She headed across the hall to the empty men’s room and hid inside a stall. Why had she built this up in her mind? This wasn’t fate. This was total BS. Her fury both at herself for her ridiculously high hopes and him for being such a guy quickly morphed to tears. She gave in to a good cry, still holding her spiked punch, and carefully not touching the toilet.

  Promise me you’ll think things through before jumping into another relationship. Her mom’s voice in her head just made her cry harder. After her almost wedding to Mark, Ally had promised her mom she’d be less impulsive. Like mother, like daughter. Her mom had been impulsive, jumping in with both feet with the wrong man, and ended up single and pregnant with Ally’s oldest sister, Serena. Things had worked out for her mom eventually with Ally’s dad, who loved Serena like his own daughter, but it could’ve been a much more difficult situation. One that easily could’ve happened to Ally as well. Not meant to be—not then and not now.

  She tried to get a full breath and ended up with a hiccupping gasp, the tears still flowing. Her love life could not be more sucky. All this time she’d told herself she’d avoid the heartache her mom had endured by finding the perfect prince for her happy-ever-after. That blind faith in a happy ending had brought her to this moment, forgiving and forgetting with Dean, allowing him into her heart a second time. She had to stop living in this romantic fantasy world, impulsively jumping in, heart on her sleeve. It didn’t help her avoid the pain of heartbreak. If anything, it made things a thousand times worse. Real life didn’t work that way.

  Believing in the fairy tale was a dead end.

  The truth of that hit her like a slap. She took a deep shuddering breath and wiped the tears from her cheeks.

  I need a new direction. The quiet certainty of her inner voice gave her a brief moment of calm.

  Someone came in. Shit. Hopefully they wouldn’t notice her. Of course, if they looked under the stall, they might see her cute red pumps. She held her breath as the guy did his business and then washed his hands. That was nice. She appreciated a guy who washed his hands; they didn’t all do that. Her ex-fiancé hadn’t. Dean did. A small sob escaped.

  Shiny black shoes approached her stall. He knocked.

  She froze, not even breathing.

  “Do you need some assistance, ma’am?” he asked in a voice that sounded vaguely familiar and cop-like.

  Her voice came out small. “No, I’m okay.”

  “Are you aware you’re in the men’s room?”

  She laughed and then choked on a sob. “Yes. The ladies’ room had a line.” She dashed at her eyes, but the tears were back with a vengeance. So much buildup for this reunion of lost love and all she got was a good cry in the men’s room with a witness to her humiliation.

  “Are you crying, ma’am? Has someone hurt you? I’m a police officer. I can help.”

  She knew he sounded cop-like. She peeked through the crack next to the door. Ethan Case, looking tough and capable and concerned.

  She opened the door and stepped out. “Hi, Ethan.”

  “Ally!” He took in her no doubt ruined makeup, her tearstained face (she was not a pretty crier), and the drink she still held in her hand. “What happened?”

  She was way beyond social niceties at this distress level and told him exactly what was wrong. “The usual, complete and utter annihilation of the heart.” She tossed back her punch, crumpled the plastic cup and tossed it in the garbage.

  Ethan held the men’s room door open for her, still looking concerned. She stepped out to the hallway and then leaned against the wall. He stood in front of her, his hard blue eyes scanning her features. Probably looking for signs of a physical altercation.

  She waved him on. “I just need some time to pull it together. You go ahead back to your date.”

  “Are you going to cry some more?” he asked gruffly.

  “Probably.”

  “You, uh, want to talk about it?”

  Her eyes widened, surprised that he’d offered. It wasn’t like they knew each other that well. Of course, he did have an honorary little sister, her friend Mad Campbell. Maybe he was used to female drama. Still, she had more tears in her and would prefer not to have a witness to her breakdown. Her fantasy happy-ever-after was dead and she needed time to mourn. “No, thank you.”

  “Okay.” He hesitated, staring at her for a long moment before walking away, looking back at her several times and then disappearing back into the ballroom.

  She walked in the opposite direction, turned the corner to an empty hallway and took a seat on the floor. Who cared if her dress got wrinkled? Nobody, that was who. She bent her knees, wrapping her arms around them, and rested her head on top. She felt like a complete fool the way she’d built up Dean and what they’d had in her mind. Those four years together meant nothing to him. How could he love her and not love her? His utter indifference compared to her dream of a loving reunion brought fresh tears. She let them fall, the world going blurry. All of her three older sisters were married. Her friends were all finding their forever loves and she had nobody. Maybe she never would. Without the rosy belief in a fairy-tale love, what would her life be like? Alone, probably, no one to hold her but herself. It sucked, but guess what? So did her love life, so which was worse?

  Finally, she finished crying and wiped her eyes with a tissue from her purse. She stood and took a deep breath, contemplating if she should bail on the reunion o
r go back in and prove she was just as over Dean as he was over her. He’d probably be back inside of ten minutes, she thought uncharitably. He hadn’t been all that in the bedroom.

  Her pride had her taking a step back to the reunion. She halted in surprise.

  Ethan was standing at the end of the hallway, where she’d just spent the last several minutes crying her eyes out. Had he seen?

  She crossed to him. “What’re you doing here?”

  “Same as you. Taking a breather. Come on, they’re serving dinner. You can sit with me and Cali.”

  Suddenly there was nothing she’d rather do. Ethan was a connection to her friends, a comforting oasis in this treacherous territory. “Okay, thanks.”

  They walked in silence for a few moments before Ethan said in a mock growl, “Say the word and I’ll give the guy who made you cry a fat lip.”

  She let out a shaky laugh. “Thanks.”

  “Men suck,” he said and ruffled her hair.

  She didn’t even care that he’d mussed it. “They do.”

  “Being single’s not so bad,” he said gently.

  Easy for him to say, he had a girlfriend. “What’re you doing here anyway? I mean, the reunion. I know you weren’t at UConn when I was here. You’re too old.”

  He bumped her with his hip. “Take that back, young’un.”

  She laughed. “You’re thirtysomething, right?”

  “Yeah. Cali went here.”

  She searched her memory and came up short. “Huh. Guess we didn’t have any classes together.”

  One corner of his mouth lifted. “You’ll get along with her great. She thinks men suck too.”

  “Even you?”

  He cracked a rare smile that lit up his face in an astonishingly gorgeous flash. “I’m the exception.”

  Chapter Two

  Ethan hadn’t been paying attention where Ally was concerned. Even with cry face, she was strikingly beautiful in a sexy pixie way. Blond shoulder-length hair with bangs that bounced in time with her energetic movements, guileless wide blue eyes, cute straight nose, a sweet bow in her top lip, lusciously plump bottom lip, petite yet busting with curves in a tight red dress. How was it he’d never spent time with her? She was one of Mad Campbell’s friends from that women’s book club. He’d definitely seen Ally around, usually elbow deep in women. Now his eyes were open. That she was showing signs of cheering up because of his small efforts made him feel like a hero.