Amazingly Broken Read online

  “Whoa, Lance, check out your harem,” Jaxon said, smirking.

  “Very funny, Jax,” Tiffany chided. “You realize some people sleep at night, right?”

  “Sorry, babe, adrenaline does crazy things to me. Besides, I had to come find my date.” He nodded at me and Tiffany shot me a confused look.

  “What is he talking about, Elana? Please, please tell me this is not who you were meeting at the party.” She crossed her arms and started to tap her foot. Since we were little kids, she did that when she wasn’t pleased with me.

  “Well, yes, in a way. I mean, he invited me to a party, but I didn’t realize it was so I could be his cheerleader for the night.” I glared at him. He was still sexy as hell, but I wasn’t drawn to him for any other reason at that moment. I wanted to push him out the door and right off the balcony but that would’ve brought me down to his level.

  “Whoa, hold on there, art girl. I was just trying to introduce you to some people. No reason to get so uppity.”

  “You know her?” Lance asked.

  “Yeah, she was supposed to be my date tonight.”

  “Anything but,” I responded, getting up from the couch and stomping into the kitchen. “I'm just his art partner! There haven’t been and there will be no dates. I swear!”

  I leaned over and pressed my face onto my hands that were resting on the counter. I could hear chatter between the three of them coming from the living room. A couple of minutes later, a hand was rubbing the middle of my back in a circular motion.

  “You okay?” Tiffany asked.

  I looked up at her. “Thank god it's just you,” I sighed. “What’s he doing here?”

  “He’s been Lance’s best friend since they were young, just like you and me.”

  I groaned. “Great. Just great. Is he leaving any time soon?”

  I barely got the question out when Jaxon trudged into the kitchen. “So, you stood me up, and now you’re mad at me. You’ve got some set of balls on you.” He laughed and reached out a hand, “Let’s try again. Friends?”

  I stood up, turned towards him, and took a moment in my mind to question if he was sincere or not. I was too tired and emotionally drained from the racing and fight to argue. I stuck my hand out and shook his. “Friends, but nothing else. I won’t be showing up to be part of your cheer squad anymore.”

  “Who could mistake you for the member of that squad? I’m sorry. Really.”

  “He’s not nearly as awful as he seems,” Lance said. “I’ve known him forever and I only hate him a little.”

  They all laughed. “I’ve only known him for a few months, so I’ll keep my mouth shut,” Tiffany added. She tossed me a sideways look that said, stay away from this one.

  “I seriously had no idea you were the couch surfing friend Lance mentioned. I would have offered you a bed much sooner.”

  No one responded. As we walked back into the living room I tried to think of a comeback and pushed my blanket aside so people could sit.

  “I think your bed has all the occupants it can handle,” I said grinning.

  Bam! Notch one up for me.

  “Probably not,” Lance said. “He never uses his own bed.”

  “Thanks for the help, bro. I’ll remember that.” He looked around the room, eyeing my suitcases shoved in a corner. “Seriously, I have a lot of space compared to this. I’m barely ever home so you can stay there if you want.”

  “I’m sure university housing will find me a dorm room soon. It’s their mistake so they can fix it.”

  “Do you seriously want to listen to those two bump uglies.” Tiffany glared at him. “I’ve been on that couch at night before Elana. Those sounds aren’t pleasant. Until they do, you’re the one paying for it.”

  I laughed. “Shut up!” Tiffany said loudly.

  “Actually, I’m not paying for it. I’m a freeloader. If you’re looking for extra cash, I’m not your girl.”

  He laughed. “Well played, but I don’t need any cash. I’m trying to be nice. I am capable of that you know; Lance knows.”

  “Nicest guy I’ve ever met,” Lance replied. Tiffany kept quiet.

  “Regardless, I’m fine here unless the innkeepers are kicking me out,” I said, glancing over at Tiffany.

  “Not a chance,” said Tiffany, shaking her head side to side.

  “They may not be kicking you out, but I bet you’d like your own bed and a closet for those clothes. Oh, and I’ve lived with Lance. I don’t envy you fighting him for bathroom time. And did I mention the sounds at night?”

  “You did… Bathroom time has been a bit of a hassle,” I sighed. “Still, I don’t even know you Jaxon.”

  “Well, I promise not to try anything if that helps. Lance will vouch for me.”

  I looked at Tiff and Lance. They would never say it, but it was probably just as hard for them to share one bathroom with me as it was for me to share it with them. The couch wasn’t even close to comfortable. And the constant sounds of two college students in love were uncomfortably distracting. Jaxon was right about that.

  “She’s considering it,” Jaxon prodded. “Look, you’re practically my sister-in-law or something with the way these two have been going. I’ll be on my best behavior. Scout’s fucking honor,” he said, raising his hand, “and I’m just down the block. You can call these two any time you need to be rescued.”

  “Just leave her alone, Jaxon!” Tiffany scolded. “You're a total player. Lance knows it; I know it. I don't need you trying to pollinate my innocent Iowan flower.”

  She tried to smile, but you could see the mama bear protectiveness in her eyes. Jaxon needed to hear it. I needed to hear it. My desire to push him off the balcony was wearing off and I started to think about pushing him onto the couch instead. Why was it so easy to be attracted to the smooth talking and cocky bad boys? Maybe it was because he was giving me attention. Something I had never received from any guy so… hot.

  I hated watching him - or anyone - race, let alone fight, but behind the disgust, I could feel lust stirring. It was annoying. First, I was the fawning coed, and now I was the girl turned on by the bad boy. This night was one cliché after another.

  He threw his hands in the air. “I'm not going to try anything, Tiffany, geez. If I mess with her, you’ll be seriously pissed at me. If you’re pissed at me, you won’t let Lance come out to play. I know how relationships work; I’ve seen them on TV.” He laughed and Lance couldn’t help but chuckle, too.

  “It’s Elana’s choice, guys. But I trust Jaxon. He wouldn’t hurt anyone that I care about,” Lance said. Looking directly at Jaxon, he added, “And I care about anyone Tiffany cares about, got it?”

  “Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. I could give you back your privacy and get some real sleep.”

  Tiffany stood up and pulled me after her, “Kitchen. Now.”

  As I followed Tiffany into the kitchen I looked over my shoulder at Jaxon. He raised his eyebrows. When I turned my head towards Tiffany she was leaning against the counter and crossing her arms.

  “Look, you’ve been through a lot,” she said. “I don’t think you need this kind of drama. He’s just a huge player…”

  “I'm on my guard Tiff. After seeing him race I have no intention of letting anything happen. I’ve seen the type of girls he hooks up with. Besides, I’m taking school seriously. This is my Get Out of Hell Free card after the last five years. I’m not going to get mixed up with some tattooed, bad boy, sex addict. But that doesn’t mean that I can’t take advantage of his barely used apartment for a few days. I really need some sleep to keep up with schoolwork and find a job.”

  Tiffany looked skeptical. Her eyebrows were raised and her eyes were intense. “Don’t you think at least some of those girls tried to resist him? It’s like he’s genetically engineered to make you take off your panties. Hell, I love Lance more than your average rom-com character, but even I get a little flustered around Jaxon. And I KNOW better!”

  “I’ve had to survive worse things
than a strong libido.”

  We laughed. “I know you have. I’m sorry. I just want to protect you.”

  “That’s fine. You can still protect me when I’m staying there.”

  “Yeah, from everything but him.”

  Jaxon stepped into the doorway with his hands in his pockets. “So, what’s the decision, ladies?” he asked.

  “You promise not to try anything?” Tiffany said.

  “Of course, cross my heart, what’s left of it,” he grinned at me.

  Some of his lame lines made it a little easier to resist his other charming qualities.

  “And you promise I won’t catch anything from your high traffic bed?” I asked, voicing one of my major concerns.

  “I told you, I rarely use it. When I do, I’m always alone. Think of it as my Fortress of Solitude.”

  “Alright, I’ll grab my stuff so we can go.”

  Tiffany was still staring at him. “Elana, text me when you get there. I want to know that you are safe and sound before I go to sleep. Jaxon, don’t do anything. I’m warning you.”

  “Tiff, its college. There’s a whole lotta ass that doesn’t come with an angry momma bear attached. I’ll leave your cub alone.”

  “Nice to know Jax.”

  After I grabbed my bags I strode to the open door behind Jaxon. Before I could step outside Tiffany grabbed my shoulder.

  "Just remember he has issues," she sighed.

  "Tiffany, I have plenty of issues myself. Maybe we can relate to each other and can help each other through our issues. Together. You don't have to worry about me with him."

  "But I do. I worry about you with any guy."

  "I know you do and that's why you're my best friend. I'll make sure to check in with you so you know nothing is wrong."

  "Okay, but if I don't hear from you I will march over there and find you. Deal?" she said loudly.

  "It's a deal…"

  Chapter 5

  “Looks like a nice place,” I said as we pulled into the parking lot of a brand-new building. We were only about a block away from Tiffany and Lance’s apartment, but everything looked different. The sign said University Beach apartments, but the beach was almost an hour away.

  Jaxon carried my bags. After a week of uncomfortable, unsatisfying sleep, I had no energy to mount a protest. My body was too tired to even drag the wheeled suitcase and it was the least he could do after inviting me to cheer for him at the party.

  “Thanks, I could afford better, but I'd have to move all my crap. I'm not in the mood for that,” he said, dragging my bag onto the elevator.

  “Anything with an actual bed sounds great to me.”

  I had no idea what to expect from a single guy’s apartment but imagined the scene of some college comedy, beer bottles on the floor, old pizza boxes stacked in a corner. I was almost afraid to look, let alone smell. Stepping inside, I was overwhelmed by how neat and fresh it seemed. His apartment had the building version of new-car smell.

  I loved it.

  “This place is a lot better than Lance and Tiffany's,” I said, dropping my purse on the floor next to the leather couch.

  The living room was a rectangle and the leather couch was up against the wall right in the middle. In front of it was a flat screen television mounted to the wall. Where a dining table might go, he had a desk and chair forming a makeshift office. There was a low coffee table in front of the couch and leather and iron bar stools at the kitchen counter. There was a lot of unused space, and he didn’t have a single picture on the walls. It wasn’t the dirty frat house of my imagination, but it wasn’t cozy.

  “I tried to get them to get a two bedroom apartment and room with me, but they wanted to live alone,” he said. “They wanted privacy more than comfort. That’s part of why I offered to let you stay here. Those two can barely keep their hands off each other long enough to eat dinner. I’m sure it wasn’t all that comfortable for you living with them or for them to have you on the other side of their bedroom wall.”

  “Their place isn’t bad, but that bedroom wall must be made out of empty cereal boxes or something.”

  “Welcome to the high life,” he said, flashing his annoyingly sexy grin.

  I rolled my eyes at him and walked into the kitchen. It had marble countertops, stainless steel appliances, dark wood floors, and a television in the corner above the toaster. It was a lot more polished than I expected. Between the tattoos and the desperate girls, I expected something tackier - with beer signs and swimsuit calendars.

  “Help yourself to anything in the fridge or my pants.”

  “What?” I shouted.

  My heart sped up.

  “I’m kidding about my pants Toots,” he said smiling. “But anything you can find to eat or drink is yours. Do you want something?”

  “Not right now, thanks.

  He was just joking.

  He was just joking.

  He… was… just… joking…

  My heart slowed.

  “And Toots? Where’d that come from?”

  “Well, you’re my Toots now that you’re living with me.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Damn right,” he said pausing, but when I didn’t say anything he continued, “The sheets and comforter on the bed are all clean. I haven't slept in it since I washed them,” he said, leaning against the wood trim on the kitchen doorway.

  “Okay,” I replied, wondering how long it had been.

  “I'm usually not here at night but if I am,” he raised his eyebrows twice and winked at me.

  Subtlety was not his strong suit, and two come-on’s in two minutes wasn’t a great start.

  “You'll be sleeping on the couch because we're just roommates,” I said. “We had that all worked out before we hauled my stuff over here.”

  “Admit it; you’d be sad if I didn’t even try.” Looking off in the distance, he said, “All joking aside, I can sleep here every night if you need me to.”

  Was he seriously concerned about me?

  I didn't know.

  But it was nice to have someone other than Tiffany act like they cared about my well-being, even if he was coming on to me.

  “It doesn't matter,” I lied. Part of me wished he would curl up every night on the couch like a faithful dog. I hated to be home alone. There were times after my dad started to drink when being alone was safer, but it still made me uneasy.

  Most nights, I got my homework done early, so I could sprint to my bed, pretending to be asleep when I heard the garage door. He usually passed out in his chair with my mom’s picture on the table beside him. On bad nights, he’d sit there, staring at the wall, listening to a tape of her covering sappy love songs. Listening to her sing made me sad and depressed, but it made him sad and angry. Those were the nights when alone was safer than together.

  Until that moment, I hadn’t thought about how safe it felt being on that old couch with Tiffany and Lance in the next room. It made me feel uneasy. I hoped this choice didn’t come back to bite me.

  “How about I make sure you're okay for the first week. Wouldn't want anything to happen to you,” he said, yanking his shirt over his head and chucking it in the hallway hamper.

  That’s the moment when I learned how many muscles make up the torso. It would be impressive in a magazine, but in real life, it was positively magnificent. He had full sleeve tattoos on both of his arms that merged into a large tribal tattoo on his back and chest. Every muscle was perfectly sculpted; an artist could not have created anything more beautiful.

  I tried to stop myself from looking.

  I couldn't.

  I stared.

  He had the body of an Adonis and the ink only enhanced it. I always had a secret attraction to tattoos, but most of the tattooed guys I met in Iowa had beer bellies and chewed tobacco. On their best days, they weren’t even a fraction as hot. I did not want to be attracted to him. He was an egotistical womanizer according to Tiffany, but my mind wasn’t in full control of my libido.
<
br />   I melted.

  “You okay?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow. “I’m still waiting for an answer.”

  “No. No, it's fine,” I muttered. It’s all I could say because of distraction that stood in front of me.

  “Okay, you’re on your own, Toots. If you change your mind, let me know. I'm going out for a drink,” he said, pulling his jeans to his ankles and kicking them into the hamper. “Don’t wait up, unless you want more than a peek.”

  I stared at him only in his boxers. I wanted to look away and knew I should. It wasn’t possible. “Didn't you drink earlier at the party?” I asked, concerned.

  “Life’s a party, Toots.” he dropped his boxers to the floor and strode to the bathroom.

  Bare ass…Bare ass…

  The door slammed shut.

  I collapsed onto the couch and stared at the blank TV screen, thinking about what I just saw. Obviously, modesty was not an issue for him. Then again, if I looked that good, I’d probably be naked every second of every day. Before he closed the door, I had a perfect view of his backside.

  And what an ass it was.

  If he had turned around and given me a full view, I might have forgotten all about my no boys, no drama rule. It was difficult not to picture him in the shower—naked, with warm water streaming over every inch of his skin, muscles flexing as he rubbed soap across his chest. I thought about knocking on the door and asking if he needed a hand washing his back.

  The sound of the shower turning off put an end to my daydream. I heard the bathroom door open and thumps down the hall that stopped when he was in the bedroom. He reappeared in the living room moments later wearing a fitted white V-neck, well-worn boot cut jeans, and brown work boots that matched his belt. Seeing that he looked as good in clothes as he did naked did not strengthen my resolve.

  I started to judge those one-night stand girls a little less harshly.

  He came over and wrapped his arm around me.

  “It's going to be great having you here, Toots.”

  A mixture of cologne, body wash, shampoo, and deodorant filled my nostrils, and I couldn't help pushing my face into his shoulder, inhaling deeply. His scent was intoxicating and guys who smell great are one of my weaknesses—right up there with sculpted biceps and body art.