Something About a Hot Guy Read online

  Something About a Hot Guy

  A.L. Jackson

  Contents

  Also by A.L. Jackson

  1. Kenna

  2. Kyle

  3. Kenna

  4. Kyle

  5. Kenna

  Also by A.L. Jackson

  About the Author

  Connect with A.L. Jackson online:

  Copyright © 2019 A.L. Jackson Books Inc.

  First Edition

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior permission of the publisher. Please protect this art form by not pirating.

  A.L. Jackson

  www.aljacksonauthor.com

  Cover Design by LJ Designs

  Editing by Susan Staudinger

  Formatting by Mesquite Business Services

  The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Names, characters, places, and plots are a product of the author’s imagination. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Print ISBN: 978-1-946420-41-1

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-946420-40-4

  Also by A.L. Jackson

  Confessions of the Heart

  More of You

  All of Me

  Pieces of Us

  Fight for Me Series

  Show Me the Way

  Follow Me Back

  Lead Me Home

  Hold on to Hope

  Bleeding Stars Series

  A Stone in the Sea

  Drowning to Breathe

  Where Lightning Strikes

  Wait

  Stay

  Stand

  The Regret Series

  Lost to You

  Take This Regret

  If Forever Comes

  The Closer to You Series

  Come to Me Quietly

  Come to Me Softly

  Come to Me Recklessly

  Stand-Alone Novels

  Pulled

  When We Collide

  Hollywood Chronicles

  A collaboration with USA Today Bestselling Author, Rebecca Shea

  One Wild Night

  One Wild Ride

  One

  Kenna

  My fingers flew across the laptop keys. My bottom lip was tucked between my teeth in astute concentration, my attention laser-focused as I pounded out the best answer I could find to the question that had been left sometime last night.

  I had to get it right.

  I never wanted to mislead people or act like I had the perfect solution.

  I just wanted to be honest.

  Open and honest.

  And sometimes that was really hard.

  But that’s what this was all about—cutting myself wide open and laying it out.

  Giving people encouragement. Hoping they’d realize they weren’t alone. See that we could all have a little fun with it along the way.

  My heart raced a little harder than normal as I typed. Adrenaline always got the best of me when I got lost in the little fantasy world I’d created.

  As if I were caught somewhere between a dream and reality.

  That was hope, though, wasn’t it? It didn’t always hinge on fact. It all lived in the realm of possibility.

  My phone buzzed where it sat on the floor next to me, and I grinned when I saw it was my best friend and roommate.

  Vanessa: Why aren’t you here? Vegas is lonely without you!

  With a small smile, I shook my head. She was crazy.

  Me: I promise Vegas does not miss me. Vegas and I are not friends.

  Vanessa: That’s because you haven’t given her a chance. She’s really sweet once you get to know her.

  I could almost see her feigned pout from across the country.

  A full grin took to my mouth as I quickly replied.

  Me: You also said that about the five-inch heels you tried to get me to wear out last weekend. We all know how that turned out.

  It had ended with a faceplant and a bloody nose and a promise to myself to never leave the house again.

  So yeah. I was a clutz. As awkward as they came, and even nerdier than that. Luckily, Vanessa still loved me for it.

  Vanessa: You sell yourself short. And we miss you. A lot. It’s no fun without you here.

  She and our other two best friends had gone on a girls’ trip. Vanessa had tried to convince me to go. She should have known me well enough to know I would have tried to sneak away to the hotel room while they were slinking off to clubs, anyway. That I felt much more comfortable in the shadows rather than traipsing around all night under the neon lights.

  Me: I’m as happy as pie. Don’t worry about me.

  Vanessa: What flavor of pie? And just how happy is pie?

  Laughter popped out. She really was crazy.

  Vanessa: Seriously, I love and miss you. I wish you didn’t feel the need to hide. You’re way too amazing for that.

  A wave of loneliness crested through my being. Sometimes I wished for that, too. That it was easier for me to step out. I was trying, but some steps were just too big, like spending a weekend out on the strip.

  Bang. Bang. Bang.

  At the sudden pounding at the door, my head snapped up from my phone and a high-pitched squeak escaped.

  My attention flew to the open screen of my computer before it went darting around the living room as if I had gotten caught red-handed in the most salacious of acts.

  I slammed down the lid in a bid to hide the evidence, set it aside, and pushed to my feet.

  I tugged down my oversized sweater a little farther and fumbled across the living room, doing my best to still my rattled nerves.

  For real—it was ridiculous that I reacted this way. That one single thing out of order, out of the expected, and anxiousness was making a play to ruin my day.

  I was working on that. Embracing who I was and improving upon her, at the same time.

  Chances were, it was someone making a delivery or trying to sell something, anyway. I didn’t need to get spun up over a little knocking.

  With all the confidence I had, I popped up to peek through the peephole.

  Oh, and there my confidence went. Bursting like a balloon cuddling up with a barbed-wire fence.

  At the fuzzy sight, my heart sputtered, my knees went weak, and a whole sea of sweat gathered on the nape of my neck.

  Oh my God.

  Oh no.

  Pulse racing, I tried to control my breaths that had started to come short and choppy.

  I was gonna have a panic attack.

  I sank back down onto my heels, attention darting from side-to-side, searching for an escape, only to jump about ten feet in the air when another round of battering took to the door. Only this time it was accompanied by a rough, “Open up.”

  Silky and hard.

  Was that even possible?

  Okay, I had more important things to do than ponder the sexy tenor of his voice. Like figuring out how in the world I was going to get out of this.

  “If you’re trying to go covert, you’re failing. I can hear you. Open up.”

  Crap.

  All the craps.

  Fisting my hands, I attempted to even out my breathing, play it cool (yeah right), and I bit down on my bottom lip. Shaking out of control, I reached out to turn the lock.

  Warily, I cracked the door open an inch, only wide enough to peer out with one eye.

  A big hand lifted and nudged the door open farther, sending me stumbling back.

  Remember those weak knees? They just about fully gave up on me.

  Blood drained fr
om my head in favor of going for a stampede through my body, head rushed with a bout of dizziness and stupidity, spiraling me into that fantasy world where I liked to live before I could stop it.

  It was all mixed up with the anxiety that raced and sped, hitting my limbs at full blast. It was a reaction I always had when I got nervous, tripping all over myself, nothing but a fidgeting, clumsy mess.

  My mouth went completely dry, and I was pretty sure every brain cell I had blanked out.

  Well, all but the ones that were taking him in as if he were a storm rising over a drought-parched desert.

  Coming at full force.

  “W-w-hat are you doing here?” I stuttered.

  Kyle Love was standing in my doorway.

  My best friend’s big brother.

  In the flesh.

  In all the glorious, gorgeous flesh that made up that six-foot-two body. All lean, sinewy muscle and easy arrogance that made his masculine face almost appear cute.

  Dark eyes swept me. Head to toe. Way slower than seemed necessary. Chills of distress and attraction crawled across my flesh, as if all those feelings I’d tried to keep contained were climbing out from the recesses.

  Oh God, I was going to pass out.

  “Well, if it isn’t Kenna Myer. All grown up.” He said my name like a tease, smooth and soft and mocking.

  I hadn’t seen him in two years. Not since mine and Vanessa’s college graduation. He’d come to our hometown for the ceremony and party afterward.

  That was where I had my last memory of him.

  This guy who’d been my first crush.

  There was a reason they called it that, you know? When you got crushed for the first time, you got completely obliterated. Smashed. Demolished in a way you never could have anticipated.

  Since then, I’d avoided him at all costs. It’d become my superpower. Only I hadn’t seen this encounter coming, and I was left without backups.

  A smirk ticked up at the corner of his mouth.

  “You look surprised. Weren’t expecting me?”

  I could feel my own lips parting in response, dropping open as I thought about what it might be like to experience those lips against mine.

  I bet they tasted as good as they looked.

  Heat flashed and something heavy rolled around in my belly.

  Damn it. Get yourself together, Kenna. You aren’t ever gonna know how that mouth tastes.

  Because I was Kenna Myer and he was Kyle-Freaking-Love.

  Because he was so out of my league that it caused me physical pain to look at him.

  Regret and want twisted through my insides, and I shifted uneasily on my feet, fiddling with my hands, not sure what to do with them.

  I needed to get him out of here and fast.

  “Kyle. What are you doing here?” This time, I managed to make it come out like a demand.

  That smirk ticked up higher, and he leaned against the door jamb as if he owned the place.

  Oh, that’s right, he did.

  Vanessa and I were only leasing the apartment from him while he was out of the country.

  And there he was, filling up the doorway with those wide shoulders and massive presence.

  He arched a cocky brow. “What, you act like you aren’t happy to see me?”

  Oh, was that ever a loaded question.

  I fumbled back a step, needing to get free of the force that surrounded him.

  Magnetic.

  The man so compelling it felt impossible to look away, every loaded second drawing me in, my entire being attracted to his essence.

  A couple seconds more, and he’d have to pry me off. I bet he’d love that.

  “Um . . . well . . . Vanessa isn’t here,” I stammered. “She’s gone for the weekend. You’ll have to come back on Monday.”

  A grin cracked his face, and his expression lifted in a challenge. “I’m afraid that’s going to be a problem.”

  He glanced at the big bag he’d dropped on the ground at his feet, then returned the force of his gaze to me. Again, those brown eyes were taking a path over my body, gliding from my head and traipsing down.

  It felt like a slow-slide of interrogation.

  What in the world was he doing?

  Redness clawed over every inch of my skin, and I was just then noting that I wasn’t wearing a bra, one of the shoulders of my sweatshirt draped off one side, my shorts so short under it that I bet it looked like I wasn’t wearing any at all.

  My hair was ratted up in a messy twist high up on top of my head, a clump of toothpaste dried on the zit on my forehead.

  Kill me now.

  Clumsy, clueless, Kenna.

  It’s what he’d call me every time I’d come stumbling into their kitchen, getting all out of sorts when I’d find him sitting at their high bar, shirtless, eating cereal like a rockstar.

  Did rockstars eat cereal?

  If they didn’t, they should.

  He was the one who’d been clueless. Clueless that he was responsible for it all, evoking that reaction. Making me nervous and needy and ruffled and flustered.

  Liable to trip.

  Wishing when I landed, it’d be right into his big, capable hands. At least, I’d imagined a million times just how capable those hands would be.

  Dropping my head, I tried to inconspicuously rub the toothpaste from my face.

  No chance he would notice, right?

  I was pretty sure the only thing I managed to do was smear it.

  A rough chuckle rumbled around in his chest. “Oh, Kenna . . . how I’ve missed you.”

  I was pretty sure I got whiplash when he said it with the way my head snapped up, eyes going wide with his words. Then it was me who was taking in all his glory.

  “Missed me?” It was a confused murmur that escaped my tongue without my permission.

  “Oh, yeah.” There he went teasing me again, and there went my gaze taking him in.

  Tight faded tee stretched across his broad chest and his jeans fitting him oh so right. Face chiseled and his jaw wide, stubble coating every inch.

  Dark hair a mess and falling over his right eye.

  Trouble to the Nth degree.

  He was the definition of word porn, and it was spelled h-o-t.

  One of those careless smirks that had driven me out of my mind for half my life slid onto his ridiculously gorgeous face. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” It was a pained whisper, and crap, I didn’t even mean to speak it, the words breaking free without my permission.

  Thing was, I really couldn’t imagine him walking through this door, plopping himself on my couch, and putting his feet up and making himself at home.

  Or maybe I just had imagined it too many times, and it felt too surreal and impossible and perfect at the exact same time.

  And there went my mind, racing into that fantasy world.

  A haggard breath sucked into my lungs, and another round of redness was flushing my cheeks as embarrassment streaked through my being.

  It was stupid he was the only person in the world I’d wanted to be different for. I’d tried—tried to catch his eye—but the one time I’d conjured the courage on our graduation day, he’d smashed it in a one-second blow that I was pretty sure he didn’t even know he’d cast.

  Light laughter tumbled from his full lips, and he set his hand on the door and pushed it open a little farther.

  “Considering you’re sleeping in my house, I would think that would be nice of you.” Only he clearly wasn’t asking.

  “What are you doing back already? Shouldn’t you still be overseas?” It was a last-ditch effort.

  He wasn’t supposed to be back for two months. The man had been off taking over the world, his start-up booming, extending to the office he’d opened in Japan. Maybe I could encourage him to go back and finish his business.

  That or convince him to come back on Monday when Vanessa returned. I’d heard the Spartan down the street had really great
rooms. No doubt, he’d have no trouble finding someone to share the big, comfy bed.

  Hell, I’d even be willing to foot the bill.

  By then, I’d have plenty of time to pack my things so I could run for safety. Because I couldn’t possibly stay in the same house as the boy I’d loved since third grade. The fact he would never look at me that way just hurt too bad.

  “Deal was done. I had no reason to stay, and I was missing home. Found myself on the next flight. And here I am.”

  He grinned a wicked grin before glancing around the apartment.

  Sunlight poured in through the big windows, reflecting on the soft pink and white accents Vanessa and I had decorated the living room and kitchen in, everything cozy and bright.

  He visibly cringed. “Looks like you and my sister did a number on the place.”

  A frown pulled to my face. “I . . . well . . . we didn’t think you’d mind. We did sign a lease for two years.”

  He couldn’t have possibly thought we would leave all his stuff out? The last thing I’d wanted was a constant reminder of him. A tease of what I couldn’t have and wanted more than I ever should.

  Reaching down, he plucked his bag from the ground.

  “Don’t mind. All the pink might have caught me off guard, but a real man can deal. And you’re right. You do have the lease for two years. Don’t worry, Kenna, I always keep my promises.”

  Why was he looking at me that way?

  Intense and deep. Energy flashing through the air. Making it hard to breathe. Like maybe he wanted to reach out and touch me. Feel me the way I’d always wanted to feel him.