Down for Her Read online

  His words come off self-deprecating, but his bravado tells a very different story. I’d bet my last precious dollars he never had any intention of asking me out. “You didn’t have to tell me Brett’s a good guy underneath his act. I figured it out for myself.”

  “Not surprised.” He stands. “But do watch yourself. He’s broken more hearts around here than questions on that stupid test.” He holds up a hand in a wave as he walks away.

  I close my laptop and pack up, my stomach growling as I head out. I can’t get Jack’s words out of my head. I don’t want to be that girl who thinks she’s the exception. Sure, Brett and I have had some good conversations, but that doesn’t mean I’m special. He breaks hearts. That’s what he does, good guy or not. The last thing I need right now is more harm to my already damaged heart.

  11

  Kylie

  I make it home…I mean back to Brett’s house, by five thirty. The fumes of disinfectant are replaced by sizzling meats, onions, and peppers. I haven’t had anything to eat today besides a pack of crackers this morning and a candy bar for a consolation prize after I failed the test for the second time. I’m so hungry I could eat my hand.

  I peer into the kitchen to find Brett in there with a spatula. “You cook?” I ask.

  He glances over at me, giving me that cool guy smile. “When I’m hungry.”

  I walk in and pick up a chip from a bowl of them. “Wow, you really can cook. This is a lot,” I say, looking at the tortillas, bowls of shredded cheese, salsa, guacamole, and a pan of pinto beans on the stove.

  “Tori and I try to do a family dinner about once a month. She’ll be over in a minute.”

  “Ah,” I say, feeling a tad dejected, which is silly. It’s not like he’d done this for me…of course.

  “Where have you been today?” he asks, not looking at me.

  “Orientation, online.”

  “I’ve heard that test is rough. Did you pass?” He meets my gaze, and I’m tossed back into last night when he held my hand in the pool, and I find myself looking away, afraid he can read my thoughts.

  “I did, but I had a little help.” I inwardly wince after saying it. I don’t want to get Jack in trouble.

  “Who from?” he asks, looking suspicious.

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  He looks down at the skillet with a snide smile. I guess I’m not nearly as good of an avoider as I thought I was.

  My stomach gives off a loud growl, and he lifts his eyebrow, looking at it.

  “Sorry,” I say, putting a hand over it.

  “We’ll probably eat around seven. Drinks as soon as Tori gets here with the sangria and beer.”

  I give an indifferent nod, though I’m doing cartwheels on the inside. “Great,” I say, and then skedaddle down the hallway to his room.

  I jump in the shower and then dress, putting on just enough makeup to not be able to tell I have any on. I squirt one quick pump of my body spray into the air and walk through it and then let out a sigh, giving myself a last check. More broken hearts than questions on that test. There were fifty questions on the test. That’s a lot of broken hearts.

  When I get back to the kitchen, the small space is packed. Tori holds a pitcher of red liquid with fruit soaking in it, and she pours it into clear plastic cups on the counter. A couple I don’t know flirt over the guacamole. The girl dips a chip and tries to feed it to the guy. “You sure you want me to have onions? Because we’re gonna be doing some making up later on this evening,” he says, snaking his arms around her waist.

  “I’ve got you a toothbrush,” she says.

  “You didn’t throw it out after last week?”

  She gives him a playful grin. “You know I didn’t.”

  “Kylie,” Tori says, getting everyone’s attention, “that sickening display is Janelle and Chris.”

  Janelle has backed into Chris, and he has his arm around her waist. “It’s nice to meet you,” he says with a smile the size of Florida. He’s definitely cute.

  “Hi.” I turn to Janelle. “You’re Tori’s roommate?”

  “I am,” she says, her smile matching his. Yep, major make-up sex happening on this street tonight.

  “Where do you work in the resort?” I ask.

  “I’m in marketing and PR,” Janelle says. “It’s my job to make this place look even better online than it does in person.”

  Chris reaches down to her ear. “They just need to post pictures of you on the website and they’d have this place at capacity year-round.” He’s right about that. She’s got big, beautiful eyes like Issa Rae. He bites her earlobe, and she wiggles away from him with a grin. Their chemistry together is so hot I think I might need another shower…a cold one.

  “You must work with Bailey,” I say to Janelle.

  “Yep. Partners in PR crime.”

  I smile and turn to Chris. “What do you do?”

  He takes a chip. “I don’t work here. I’m at the hospital.”

  “Nice. What do you do there?”

  “Accounting.”

  “Who wants sangria?” Tori asks, passing cups out. Chris and Janelle both take one. Tori picks up two more cups and hands one to Brett, proffering the other toward me. I feel guilty for not contributing to the evening. Back home, I would have brought a pricey bottle of wine. But I don’t even have the money for a low-dollar bottle at this point. “Kylie?” Tori asks, nodding at the drink.

  “Thanks,” I say, taking it, swallowing my guilt and humility. At times like this I feel like a fraud…like if these people saw where I moved here from and the extravagant habits I left behind, they wouldn’t be so accommodating.

  Tori picks up the final cup and holds it up to the group. “To fajita night.”

  “To fajita night,” we all say in unison and then sip our drinks.

  I’m aware of the front door opening, and then Val appears in the kitchen with a twelve-pack of imported beer. “Pardon me, pretty ladies.”

  “Who are you calling a lady?” Chris asks.

  Val puckers up and makes a smooching sound in Chris’s direction, and he ducks away from him. Val puts the beer up and then faces me. “I owe you. This place looks fantastic.”

  “She takes Venmo,” Janelle says.

  “Oh, shit, sure,” Val says, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

  I open my mouth to protest, but the idea of actually receiving some money is too tantalizing.

  Brett hands me some bills. “Here. I got this when I went to the store earlier today. Thanks for cleaning.”

  I shake my head, eyeing the cash like it’s a glass of ice water in the middle of the Sahara.

  “Girl, take that money,” Janelle says. “You earned it if you cleaned this nasty-ass pit.”

  Brett slides the cash into my pocket, and I’m too mesmerized by his eye contact to argue.

  Tori picks up the bowl of chips. “Let’s move this into the dining room. We’re gonna all get pregnant if we get any closer in this kitchen.”

  “Let’s have a drink before we eat,” Val says. “It’ll be too hard to catch a buzz otherwise.”

  “True,” Chris says, taking a long drink of his sangria.

  I follow the group into the living room, and as Brett comes in, he looks at me with that grin that hides so much.

  “I didn’t know you could be so domesticated,” I say.

  He chuckles. “That’s the last word anyone’s ever used to describe me.”

  “Seriously, look at you. You’re throwing a dinner party.”

  “It’s not a dinner party. It’s me making dinner and all you people eating it.”

  I point at him, squinting. “I think that might be a dinner party.” I hold my cup up to his. We knock them together and then take drinks, both keeping an eye on one another.

  Someone has turned on music, which seeps from a speaker positioned next to the television, and Janelle and Chris dance like we’re in a club. Tori looks like she’s feeling good, moving to the music and sipping her drink while
Val moves up to her.

  I look at Brett, because we’re the only two idiots not dancing, but I’m absolutely rotten at it. I’ve never felt the music in my bones to the point of moving my body, not since I was a toddler and didn’t care what anyone thought. I’ve never felt like a sexpot a day in my life, and today is no exception.

  Brett takes my hand and twirls me slowly, and I like that I don’t have to duck. Joshua was a little shorter than me, which I never minded, but it’s nice to be face-to-face with a guy who’s a little taller than me.

  The song ends, and everyone breaks apart for a moment, but the next song that starts is this Sofi Tukker song that I love, and I jump with excitement, splashing a little sangria out of my cup. “Oh, crap!”

  Brett chuckles. “I doubt that’s the worst that’s been on this floor.” He sets my cup down on the dining room table along with his, then takes my hands in his and pulls me into an open space in the living room. Someone turns the music up, and before I know it, we’re full-on dancing together like Tori and Val and Janelle and Chris. Well, not exactly like Janelle and Chris. They may be headed toward an R rating. But we are dancing, and I’m letting loose and moving like I’m a totally normal person who has been dancing in the clubs for years and not spending weekends at posh restaurant openings and snooty wine bars. Brett and I have our fingers threaded together, and we move close then pull away and tease and taunt, and it’s so freaking fun.

  A knock sounds at the door, and Val opens it. Some people from last night, including Bailey and Simone, come in. We hug like it’s been years since we’ve connected. They make a sandwich out of me before I even know what’s happening. I have never been a girl who’s danced like this with other girls, but something about this is okay with me. If my circle of friends back home could only see me now, they’d all be clutching their pearls.

  I don’t know how many songs I’ve danced to or how many people I’ve danced with, but this has become a full-on party. At some point, Brett handed me my drink, which I drank. At another point, someone handed me a shot, which I did, and now I’m just fluffy enough that I either need to eat or pass out somewhere. I’m not a lightweight, but the lack of food is definitely a problem.

  I glance around for Brett and find him right behind me. I tug on his shirt, and he leans in toward me. “I’ve got to eat or pass out.”

  “Come on,” he says, and I follow him into the kitchen.

  He opens a drawer and pulls out two forks, and then he picks up one of the pans. “Grab those,” he says, motioning to the flour tortillas.

  I take them and follow him as he maneuvers through the crowd to his bedroom and shuts and locks the door behind us. We collapse onto the bed, and he pulls the lid off the pan.

  “Oh, my God. Cold meat has never looked so amazing,” I say.

  He hands me a fork, and we dig in like savages. I eat what feels like half the pan before I pull a tortilla out of the bag. “I haven’t unabashedly eaten carbs without analysis and justification in at least half a decade.” I offer the bag to him. “You want one?”

  “Mmm-hmm,” he says and takes it from me and rips it in half with his teeth like a dog. We both crack up so hard that we’re doubled over when someone bangs on the door. “Brett, are you in there?” some guy shouts.

  “Fuck off. I’m trying to get laid,” Brett shouts back, which has us laughing even harder. We both hold our fingers over our mouths, instructing the other one to “Shhhhhhhh.”

  We fall on our backs from laughter and full bellies. He moves the pan to the floor and then lies back with his hands behind his head. “That was fun.”

  “Mmm-hmm,” I utter. “I haven’t eaten like that in years…maybe since college.”

  He eyes me, looking so freaking sexy with the muscles in his triceps bulging. “Where do you come from?” he asks.

  I look at him over my shoulder. “Oklahoma.”

  “I don’t mean where in the country. Who were your people? What was your world like before this?”

  I exhale a deep breath and lie back on the bed, resting my head in my hand. “You don’t wanna know. It’s super boring.”

  “I’m interested. You seem like a fish out of water here.”

  “Why do you say that?” I ask, though it could be one of many things, including my BMW that I expect to disappear any day now when my dad figures out where I am and that I’m not coming back, or my dance moves, which scream of my lack of clubbing experience.

  “Things like eating a tortilla seem like a new experience for you.”

  “Ah. The tortilla gave me away, huh?”

  He rolls over onto his side, facing me, sliding his arm under his pillow. “Not just the tortilla. You seemed to really enjoy yourself tonight…like maybe you haven’t in a while.”

  I can’t help a smile. “I’m having a ball. My circle of friends doesn’t cut loose like this.”

  “This is the same group who didn’t tell you your fiancé was cheating on you?”

  “Those are the ones. If we went clubbing, it was to some VIP lounge somewhere. And no one dared to dance…not like that, at least.”

  “What did you do with your days in this other life?”

  I hide my face in the pillow. “I was hoping to avoid that question.”

  “How come?”

  “Because it’s embarrassing,” I say, rolling onto my side.

  He just stares at me, willing me to speak like he’s controlling my mind with his hotness.

  “I didn’t really have an official job. I mean, I worked for my dad’s company, in a way. I planned all their parties, fundraisers, retirement celebrations. I did do charity work, but not enough.”

  “Walk me through a typical day. You wake up and…”

  I close my eyes. “This is so embarrassing.”

  “It was your life. You shouldn’t be ashamed of it.”

  “But I am, at least around you and your friends. You’re all hardworking, respectable people. I’ve been floating through life with oblivious abandon. Look where it got me.”

  He just stares at me, his gaze focused on me, giving me his full attention. I can’t remember the last time Joshua really listened to me about anything.

  “I would wake up and get dressed and go get a juice or something. Then I’d go to Pilates or yoga. I always got that out of the way early.”

  “What’s early?”

  I wince. “Like, ten?”

  He just nods.

  “Then I’d shower, and if I didn’t have an appointment for my hair or nails or a spa treatment of some kind or lunch scheduled with a friend, I’d stop in at my dad’s office and sort of do the rounds.”

  He smiles. “What were the rounds?”

  I flick him in the chest. “You’re judging me.”

  “I’m not. Go on.”

  Even though revealing the details about the life I just left sucks, it does feel a bit like coming clean. “I would get platters of cookies from the bakery and leave them in the different departments, or I would see if anyone needed anything for their office…picture frame for their kid’s new school photo, vase of fresh flowers for the conference room. Sometimes I’d get coffee orders for a certain department that I knew was working on a big project...that sort of thing.”

  “Sounds like a generous way to spend your time.”

  I scratch my eyebrow, my stomach sizzling a little. “Well, to be fair, it wasn’t my money. I had a corporate card.”

  “Still. It sounds like you enjoyed taking care of people.”

  I shrug. “I guess I did. I do. But now all of you are taking care of me. It’s…humbling.” I bite back the urge to tear up.

  “I assume you don’t have that corporate card anymore?”

  I shake my head, falling onto my back. “I don’t have any of my credit cards anymore. It was a whole thing.”

  “What kind of thing?”

  “When I found out about Joshua cheating, I told my dad, thinking he’d be outraged on my behalf. But he handled me like I was overr
eacting. I knew my dad had cheated on my mom. That was no secret. But I didn’t think he’d be okay with me being treated that way.”

  “What happened?”

  “I told him the wedding was off and that I was breaking up with Joshua. At first, he was kind and understanding about it, saying I just needed to cool off. But after a few weeks, when I still wouldn’t see Joshua, he had this talk with me about it. I told him I was done, and he asked me to reconsider. When I said no, he got forceful with me.”

  “Like threatening?” Brett asks, looking concerned.

  “Not physically, of course. But he made it clear he would cut me off if I didn’t take Joshua back.” The sting of my dad’s betrayal numbs me once again.

  “Why?”

  “You’ve got to understand my dad. Joshua and he are thick as thieves. He’s been grooming Joshua for years, ever since he and I started dating. My dad’s invested in him—both time and money. Joshua went to grad school on the company’s dime. My dad’s plan was for me to marry Joshua and him to run the business in a few years when my dad’s ready to retire. My breaking up our relationship tosses a huge kink in his plans.”

  “So your dad’s just okay with you being with a guy who cheats on you?”

  “Like I said, he cheated on my mom, constantly. To him, that’s just what men do.”

  “Yeah, but to cut you off is a big deal, isn’t it?”

  “To me, of course, but I’m sure he thought just the threat of cutting me off would be enough to make me change my mind. I think I’ve rattled him, forcing him to make good on his threat.”

  He quirks a smile at me. “That’s kind of badass.”

  I shrug, accepting the win, no matter how small.

  “Do you think he’ll give in?” he asks.

  “You don’t know my dad. He’s never given in a day in his life. Everyone’s always talked about how ruthless he is in business. I never thought I’d be on the other end of his gun, but here I am.” The hole in my chest deepens.

  “You’ve never crossed him before?”

  “Not really. Not where it counted. There’s a lot at play here. He wants to avoid the scandal of it all. Everyone was super involved in our relationship…always asking why we hadn’t gotten married already so we could start pumping out babies right away.”