When We Met Page 2

  And I stood in awed welcome of the day.

  Winter would be here soon enough, ushering in the cold. This beautiful day was a stark reminder that I couldn’t allow Hunter to steal the best of life from me. Hiding in my room just meant I was again allowing him to take another piece of myself by giving in to the worry and questions.

  I pulled the deepest breath into the well of my lungs. Clean, crisp air filled me up like a soothing balm that could be inhaled, a tangible solace that could be tucked somewhere deep inside myself, becoming a vital piece of who I was.

  Something I hadn’t felt in so long stirred in my heart. A swirl of joy blossomed in my belly, sending a swell of appreciation right along with it. A feeling that everything might just be okay quietly slipped through my body on a hushed wave.

  “I can do this,” I whispered again, only this time I uttered it aloud, the encouragement ringing through my ears to give a boost of confidence to my downtrodden spirit.

  This time I believed it.

  Slowly my eyes blinked open to the bright blue canopy above, and I shook myself off, skipped down the steps. I headed down the walkway leading away from the house, my face downturned and focused on my white canvas shoes.

  Awareness prickled along my spine, lifting the hairs at the nape of my neck. On its own accord, my head drifted to the side where the upheaval of energy radiated, barreling into every last one of my senses.

  I slowed to a stop.

  It was doubtful anything in this world could have forced me to keep walking.

  My lips parted in surprise, and a little “Oh” dropped from my mouth. My heart stuttered and all the heat of the sun landed square on my face, my cheeks flaming so hot I felt it burn somewhere in my stomach.

  In the driveway next door sat a car I’d never seen before, one I didn’t recognize, one there was no question I would have remembered had it ever appeared in my sight. It was completely blacked out . . . all of it . . . the windows and the wheels and the body. It looked fast and dangerous and set off all kinds of bells in my head, every last one of them screaming a blaring warning.

  Trouble.

  But the car wasn’t what had me trapped. It was the guy tucked under the hood, hovering over the powerful engine, who had frozen me to the spot. The guy braced the wide span of his arms over the entirety of it, holding himself up and craning his head to the side as he stared across the short distance at me. The shaggy thatch of dark brown hair that flopped over his forehead did nothing to obstruct the unsettling intensity of his hazel eyes. Even in the space between us, I knew they were mostly green, but the sun caught flecks of gold that made them seem to glimmer with mischief.

  He was wearing nothing but a pair of snug-fitting jeans, his strong chest and arms bare, the sheen of sweat covering it glistening in the sun, just enough to accentuate every ripple of muscle he had exposed.

  Oh. My. God.

  I chewed at my lip and attempted to look away, but my gaze was all tangled with his, locked up and wrenched tight with the eyes that seemed to be holding all of my functions hostage—eyes that were narrowed and burning with curiosity.

  A lump grew in my throat.

  Did he recognize me?

  Shame scorched me all the way to my core.

  Still I couldn’t look away.

  Without taking his gaze from me, he pulled himself from under the hood. He grabbed a rag as he propped his hip up on the edge of his car, meticulous as he began to wipe the grease from his hands.

  Seconds passed, or maybe hours, I wasn’t sure, everything a blur as my body waged a war with my mind, every rational thought I had sent to slay the fearful fascination this stranger sent speeding through my veins. Just looking at him had set the million butterflies that had lain dormant in my stomach scattering. They fluttered fast, teasing me with the unwanted attraction my traitor body was giving in to with just a glimpse of a cute boy.

  Cute boy.

  Ha.

  This guy . . . man . . . whatever you wanted to call him . . . wasn’t cute.

  He looked like some sort of avenging angel. Too beautiful to be real. Maybe he was here to collect my soul, to make me pay for the sins Hunter had led me into.

  Those butterflies dipped and dove when he spoke, his voice deep and rough, no doubt created for the sole purpose of enticing guileless girls into temptation. “So, are you just going to stand there and stare at me all day, or are you going to introduce yourself?”

  Flustered, I shook my head, blinking as I took a stumbling step away from him, my mouth dropping open just a little more.

  I spent a dumbfounded moment trying to process his words.

  Did he really just say what I think he did?

  What an arrogant jerk.

  “I think you have a little something . . . right here,” he continued. With his index finger, he tapped at the cocky, curled-up edge of his lips, teasing me as he wiped the imaginary drool from the corner of his mouth. His taunting touch left behind a smudge of grease on his gorgeous face.

  Dirty.

  That thought ratcheted up my confusion a thousandfold, just like that wrench he’d been wielding against the bolt in the engine of his car. I was pretty sure this guy could twist me so tight he’d strip me bare.

  I’d been screwed enough. Not again.

  “Y-y-you were looking first,” I stammered over the lame defense, my voice strained and sounding a little too much like a petulant child’s.

  Damn it! He had me hot and bothered in places I didn’t even know existed.

  His head tipped to the side, tossing locks of his dark brown hair around his face. Then he shrugged. There was nothing I could do to stop my eyes from traveling to the defined planes of his chest.

  I swallowed hard and tried to get my bearings.

  Oh man, oh man, oh man. Not good.

  It was like the bait that lured prey to the sharp teeth of a trap, too tempting to resist. Everything about the movement was predatory.

  I could almost smell him, all man and grease and sex.

  “So what if I was?” he asked, nonchalant, that rough voice tossing the contention out without the slightest hint of shame. He cocked an eyebrow as his eyes made a slow pass down my body.

  I almost gasped in relief when he released me from the chains of his stare. Of course, he just dragged his attention right back up, and those searing eyes made me their prisoner again.

  “You did look at yourself in the mirror this morning, didn’t you? You can hardly blame me.”

  Redness bloomed hot and fast, and I let my hair fall in my face, obstructing the reaction I had to this boy.

  Er . . . man or god or whatever he was.

  Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

  I refused to take his grimy come-on as a compliment.

  I wanted to stomp my foot and tell him so. Instead I just stood there with my mouth still hanging open like some kind of blubbering fool.

  He pushed himself from his car.

  Panic thudded my pulse.

  I wasn’t sure I could handle this guy getting any closer than he already was.

  His expression shifted again, his head steadily drifting to the side as he approached, like he was doing his best to dig around in my thoughts.

  I wasn’t letting him go there. Instead I dug around in myself for courage, lifting my trembling chin as if I were brave instead of the shivering coward I felt like.

  “Do you really need an introduction?” I asked with almost a sneer. “Figured you’d already know who I am.” Spitting out those words took up the last of my pride, and I was suddenly feeling like a fraud, saying things like someone I was not. My eyes flew to the ground, and I studied a weed growing up through a crack in the pathway as I said a silent prayer that he didn’t know. Obviously I didn’t want anyone to know, this blight something I wished I could obliterate from history.

  But him?

  Something inside me twisted. I would do anything to be spared that humiliation.

  I peeked up through the veil of my hai
r when I noticed him gesture behind me. That mischief was back in his eyes, only this time it was lighter, like their potency was no longer a threat. He grinned. “I’m no genius, but based on the fact that you just came out of that house wearing a backpack on the first day of classes, I’m going to go out on a limb and say you’re one of my new neighbors.”

  He’d turned casual, which was about the last thing I was feeling.

  “But do you know my name?” I demanded, my hand curling into a fist at my side.

  Do you know my face? was what I was really asking, almost begging him to relieve me of the burden.

  “Well, let’s see . . . Kier filled me in on all the neighbors.” He lifted his gaze to the sky, as if he were thinking back to their conversation.

  Kier was one of the guys who lived next door, quiet, nice. I’d always liked him. I was close to feeling relieved, because I felt almost positive he wouldn’t divulge my secret.

  New guy raised his hand and lifted his index finger. “Chloe.” He held up a second. “Indy.” He continued on, checking off all of us girls. “Misha and Courtney.” A smirk twisted up one side of his mouth. “Guess I’d feel pretty confident betting on the fact that you belong to one of those names.”

  Discomfort shifted my feet, and I finally forced my name around the lump this guy had seemed to permanently wedge at the base of my throat. “M-M-Misha.” I tucked an errant curl blowing around in my face behind my ear, my nod shy and unsure. “I’m M-M-Misha. Misha Crosse.”

  His eyes narrowed again, studying. Then he shook his head, raking his plump bottom lip between his teeth. He freed it with an easy smile.

  Dear Lord.

  “Darryn. Darryn Wild.” He stuck his hand out between us. I eyed it warily. Those bells were ringing. Don’t touch. Off-limits. Danger.

  But he was smiling this cute smile, and my hand tingled, twitching toward his. What could a handshake hurt?

  “Oh, come on, Misha, I know you want to touch me.” This time, he didn’t touch the corner of his mouth but reached out to touch mine.

  Shivers raced down my spine and sent something tumbling around in my stomach that I didn’t want to recognize, and I prayed another prayer that the drool he lifted from my face was imaginary, too.

  At this point, I wasn’t so sure.

  Fantastic. The guys next door had just traded one asshole for another. And to think for a second I’d almost been duped into thinking he was nice.

  I didn’t like it, didn’t like thinking this jerk was sleeping in Hunter’s room, didn’t like his things there or his thoughts there or his ripped, muscled body stretched out like Satan’s seduction across that bed.

  And I really couldn’t stand the cocky grin that was playing all over one side of his perfect mouth.

  But mostly I just hated that he managed to make me feel this way.

  One of these days I was going to learn to trust my instincts. I’d had them that night with Hunter, this feeling sparking inside me, alerting me that something was off.

  No day like the present.

  “You wish,” I spat at him, doing my best to sound intimidating and not like some scared little creature who wanted to find a rock to hide behind.

  My eyes made a pass over the yard, wishing that overnight a huge boulder had miraculously been dropped into our yard.

  Nope.

  No such luck.

  He laughed, the sound thick and throaty and arrogant. Part of me wanted to smack him, while the other part wanted to beg him to do it again.

  Damn it!

  Damn him.

  “I wish, huh?” He eyed me up and down. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

  I huffed, and he chuckled again.

  Refusing to submit myself to his torture any longer, I turned and stomped away, scolding myself under my breath. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” I ranted, my lips moving silently as I pounded down the sidewalk toward campus. Mounds of curls bounced angrily around my face as I left Darryn Wild staring behind me. “I hate boys,” I muttered hard. “Jerks. Every last one of them.”

  I was so angry he’d managed to make me stutter and stumble all over myself.

  It didn’t matter if he was the prettiest thing I’d ever seen.

  No way, not a chance.

  I’d been there before.

  And I wasn’t about to go there again.

  chapter three

  Darryn

  I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face as I watched her storm away. Thick, heavy black curls bounced all around her shoulders and down her back, her little hands twisted up in the tightest fists at her sides.

  Like a feisty little kitten with a cute button nose and wide curious eyes, skittish and scared and completely naive.

  Pretty sure I could have said boo and she would have run.

  I chewed at my lip, fighting the grin.

  Yeah, I knew her.

  Knew her face and her name and that fucking incredible body, all curvy and full and just about the most damned perfect thing I’d ever seen.

  Why I lied when she’d asked me such a pointed question, I didn’t know. I knew exactly what she’d been referring to, that video I’d been trying to get off my mind for the last month. But it was like she’d been pleading with those huge, hopeful eyes—brown eyes so dark they were nearly as black as her hair—to spare her, like a lie would be so much easier than the truth.

  Or maybe it was because she was nothing like I expected. I expected some raving hot bitch, all sass and sex and mile-long legs, with pouty full lips and vacant black eyes.

  What I wasn’t expecting was a girl who blushed so red I was pretty sure she was going to incinerate with just the slightest hint of attention. Didn’t expect a girl who stuttered over her own damned name.

  God, I’d just spent the last five minutes being a total ass to her, egging her on, but I couldn’t help it. Every time she blushed, my dick stirred to life and my heart pounded a little too hard, this girl some kind of sweet contradiction, all sexy and shy and so damned adorable I wanted to wrap her up in my arms and never let her go. Couldn’t tell if I wanted to haul her off to snuggle up on the couch or tear all her clothes from her and teach her every dirty trick I knew.

  But it became clear really fast.

  This girl didn’t do dirty.

  For a fleeting second, my eyes shot up to the room I’d rented out when Hunter was canned. Yeah. I knew him, too.

  Anger spiked deep in my gut, and I sucked in a breath as I turned back to the curly mane of black stalking away from me, no doubt still cursing my name.

  Hunter.

  I was hit with the intense need to take the asshole out.

  He needed to pay for treating a girl as sweet as Misha the way he had.

  Guilt reared its ugly head, sneering at me, reminding me I was just as bad as the rest of them.

  How many times had I fantasized about kissing the hell out of that pouty mouth? About my hands palming her hips while she rode me, her hair falling over her shoulders, just brushing over her full tits as I looked up at her while she drove me right out of my mind with pleasure?

  Misha peeked back at me, her eyes going wide when she caught me still standing there ogling her as she walked away. For a second I saw her little kitty claws come out, like she was about to make a valiant attempt to protect her sweet little self, before she gave herself over to all the insecurities swimming so visibly in her eyes. But then she just ducked her head and rushed to turn the corner.

  I shook my head, tossed my rag back to the engine of my car, and chuckled aloud. Thought I’d had a finger on her. Wasn’t even close.

  But one thing hadn’t changed.

  I still wanted to kiss the hell out of that pouty mouth.

  chapter four

  Misha

  My phone vibrated in my back pocket. I pulled it out and squinted at the screen as I navigated through the drove of students who were spilling out of the lecture hall.

  A small smile pulled at my mouth when I read the needy message from
Indy.

  COFFEE?!?!

  I tapped out a quick reply.

  Be there in two :)

  Changing course, I pushed through the throbbing herd of bodies, heading for Common Grounds, the little coffee shop Indy and I had made a habit of frequenting between classes last year. School had started last week. Indy was still having a really rough time after her breakup with Dean, and I was doing my best to spend as much time with my friend as I could, hoping my presence would ease her mind in some way. She’d worried me this last weekend, coming home so blitzed out I didn’t think she even knew her own name.

  My days?

  I risked peeking up at the faces that blazed by me without a care. There was no hint of recognition, not a soul who paid me any mind. Relief slipped through me, just under the surface of my skin, a buzzing gratitude flooding me as I gave thanks for the mercy I’d somehow been granted. I’d settled into some kind of routine, keeping my head down and my focus entirely on school and my internship. Each day that passed with no one saying anything to me just gave me another boost of confidence¸ an affirmation that I really belonged here.

  Seeing my kids yesterday was confirmation.

  I’d walked into that building and all of them had run up to me, calling my name as they laughed and smiled and hugged my legs.

  Being with them was worth any amount of discomfort I might suffer here. Those kids . . . they were where I belonged.

  I swung open the glass door and stepped into the bustling coffee shop. I inhaled deeply, hit with the overwhelming scent of coffee, warmth infiltrating my chest.

  Yum.

  The small space overflowed with people. Students clamored to get their caffeine fix as they rushed to get to the next place they needed to be. I popped up on my toes, craning my neck as I looked for the shock of red hair that could only belong to my friend.

  “Hi.” It was uttered right next to my ear.

  “Ah!” I jumped and spun around, finding Indy standing there grinning at me.

  “Oh.” I flattened my hand on my chest. “You scared me.”