My Favorite Mistake (42 page)

Good God, he has dimples!  I might die!

Right on cue, my cheeks get hot.  Here we go again. 

His grin widens into a smile and he winks at me.  I’m pretty sure my toes are numb.  I watch him turn away.  Before his head completely disappears, I consider what Jenna said.  Maybe I should go and ask for the treat…

I jump when I feel fingers at my neck, brushing my hair back.  “You looking for me?”

I recognize the voice.  It’s Brent.  I sigh.  It’s not right that I should feel a little disappointed.  But I do.  The time for me to be reckless has past.  The door of opportunity has officially been closed.  By Brent.

I turn on my stool.  I smile up into the face of Brent Thomason, my quasi-boyfriend.  

Brent is no slob in the looks department.  His sandy hair has that purposefully messy look and his dark brown eyes have an exotic tilt I’ve always found very appealing.  But even as I stare into them, I’m picturing smoky greenish-gray ones.

“Were you looking for me?” he asks again.

I dodge the question, playfully poking him in the chest.  “You’re late!”

“I can’t be too perfect.  Gotta keep a girl like you on her toes.”  He kisses the tip of my nose and then brushes my lips with his.  

“Did you get the ‘Vette running?” I ask, leaning back.

“No.  That’s why I’m late.  I just talked to the guy that was supposed to take a look at it for me.  Since I couldn’t even get it here, he agreed to look at it tomorrow night instead.  I’ll get it out there even if I have to have it towed,” he growls in determination.

As usual, I find Brent’s passion about his car a little bit of a turn on.  One of my father’s obsessions is vintage cars.  We have a garage full of them and I know enough about them to talk like I’ve got some sense.

“Out where?”

He shrugs.  “Eh, some sort of field thing.  You know how country people are.”

I feel my frown, but can’t stop it.  I know Brent doesn’t really mean anything by the comment, but it still bothers me.  Unlike most of my friends, I know what life without money looks like, feels like.  Granted, it was a long time ago, but some things a girl never forgets.

Sexy eyes drift through my mind…

“I want to get that thing running so I can drive you around and show you off.  I mean, drive it around and show it off.”  He grins at me.  I grin back.  The sad thing is, I think he had it right the first time.

About the author

Chelsea M. Cameron is a YA/NA writer from Maine. Lover of things random and ridiculous, Jane Austen/Charlotte and Emily Bronte Fangirl, red velvet cake enthusiast, obsessive tea drinker, vegetarian, former cheerleader and world's worst video gamer. When not writing, she enjoys watching infomercials, singing in the car and tweeting. She has a degree in journalism from the University of Maine, Orono that she promptly abandoned to write about the people in her own head. More often than not, these people turn out to be just as weird as she is.

Monday morning I woke up a little excited. It was my first day at the library in the afternoon, and I was nervous, but happy to be having some money coming in. I would cut off my hand before asking my mother to spot me some. She had enough worries without me being a mooch.

I took out my retainer and glanced over at Hunter. He was on his back, one arm thrown over his eyes, as if he was blocking them from the sun. His other arm was slung over the side of his bed. Somehow his sheets always managed to cover what they needed to cover. Except...

I shoved my face under the covers. I did not just see that. I peeked out again. Yup. Hunter Jr. was awake and standing at attention. Oh. My. God. I faced the wall, unable to look at it anymore. He moaned, rolling over. I stayed as still as I could, but suddenly, I got a fit of the giggles. I stuffed my blanket in my mouth, but it didn't help. Hunter sighed and moved again. I really, really didn't want him to wake up.

The giggling continued. I was in deep and there was no end in sight.

“What's so funny?” His voice made me jump, killing all hope I had of pretending I was asleep. I froze anyway, hoping he'd think I was having a nightmare or something.

“I can still hear you laughing,” he said, and I heard him grabbing his boxers. How could he get them on over...

“Why don't you come over here and give me a hand instead of giggling like a twelve-year-old,” he said, somehow getting the boxers on.

“Why don't you just take care of it yourself? That's probably what you usually do.”

“That's what you think.”

He walked out of the room and shut the door. The giggles finally took over and I was lost. Something about man bits was just hilarious. My fit continued until I had tears on my face. I lay in bed after it was over, gasping and trying to regain my composure.

It was only seven, but there was no way I was going to be able to sleep. I might as well get up and do some homework. I needed to wash my face and brush my teeth, but I wasn't going near the bathroom once I knew Hunter was out of it.

I parked myself in the living room with my textbooks, a bowl of cereal and a cup of black coffee. I heard the shower turn off and glued my eyes to my book.

“Shower's free,” he said, behind me.

I made a noncommittal sound and pretended I was absolutely fascinated with my French textbook. I heard him walking closer and I kept my head facing away. “You come any closer with that and I'll break it off. Got it?”

“You're feisty this early in the morning. I like it. Watcha reading?” He leaned over my shoulder, his damp skin inches from my face.

“Go away, Hunter. Seriously.”

“Fine, fine.” He shuffled back to the bedroom, and I went back to my homework.

An hour later Darah stumbled toward the coffeepot.

“What are you doing up so early?” she said.

“Couldn't sleep.”

“Was that you laughing like a psycho earlier?”

“Yeah, sorry. I didn't wake you up, did I?”

“Meh,” she said, gripping the coffee cup and taking a deep sip. “I wake up if Renee breathes too loudly. Not your fault. So,” she said, shoving some of my books aside so she could sit next to me, “what was all the giggling about?”

“It's nothing,” I said, the giggles threatening to come up again. “Just something I was thinking about.”

“Or someone?” She poked my shoulder.

“No.”

“Yeah, that was very convincing, Taylor. There is something going on between you and Hunter. Everyone else seems to see it but you.”

“The only thing that's going on is that he drives me up a wall and I want him to get hit by a bus.”

“Right, sure.”

“I'm serious!”

“Okay, Taylor. Whatever you say.” She gave me a look and went back to her coffee, and I went back to whatever the hell I was working on and not thinking about Hunter.

 

I headed for my first day at the library with nerves and excitement. I punched my old-fashioned timecard and walked back to the office.

“Hello, Taylor, it's nice to see you again,” Tom said, shaking my hand. There were a few other people who worked in the department, and I was introduced to Nancy, Mary and Jeff.

“And this is the student worker section. We usually only have two workers at a time. The other student who shares your shift should be here any moment.”

I was a little early. He showed me to a desk that was split into two workstations facing each other with two ancient desktops, lots of stamp pads and pens.

“Oh, here he is,” Tom said, turning around. I turned my head and saw my coworker.

“Fancy seeing you here, Missy. Small world.” Hunter Zaccadelli, we meet again.

“You have got to be kidding.”

“Do you two know each other?” Tom looked both confused and uncomfortable.

“We're roommates,” I said.

“Well, it is a small world. That's not going to be a problem, is it?”

“No, not at all,” I said. There was no way I was giving up this job.

“Agreed,” Hunter said.

Tom gave us a look, but took our word for it. “Okay, then. For today I just need you to complete a few workplace safety tests. It's a pain you have to do them, but they're required for all new employees.”

Hunter sat down directly across from me and booted up the computer. I did the same as Tom told us how to log in to the website and what the test would entail. Didn’t seem too difficult.

“You sure this is okay? I know how hard it can be to work with someone you live with. My wife used to work in this department.” He smiled and we both reiterated that it would be fine. At least for now. We’d only been there for a few minutes, and I was still reeling. I didn’t believe in luck, but I seemed to be having a lot of the bad kind lately.

Hunter and I got to work on a stupid safety multiple-choice test. I had to keep moving my feet because he kept invading my space.

“Will you stop that?” I said after he stretched his feet out under my chair for the millionth time.

“Why? I like pissing you off. It's the best part of my day.”

I wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, but instead I turned my attention back to my computer screen. Seconds later, my email made a pinging sound to tell me I had a new message. I'd pulled it up in case any of my professors sent a message that I needed to read right away. I didn't need more than one guess to know who the ping was from.

Subject: You're totally picturing me naked right now

Missy,

So how about you and I head up to the stacks to do some “shelving”?

I glared at the message before hitting reply.

Subject: This is a work environment and this is harassment

Mr. Zaccadelli,

I am writing to inform you that your proposition has been rejected. Due to both the fact that we are coworkers, as well as roommates, I would find it inappropriate to “visit the stacks” with you. I will reject all further offers at this time. If, in the future, I decide to entertain such an offer, I will inform you via correspondence.

Respectfully (not) yours,

Miss Taylor Caldwell

P.S. Stop fucking emailing me.

I watched his eyes skim the message and a smirk cross his face. He looked straight into my eyes as he typed away, never glancing at the keyboard.

He banged the enter key with a little nod.

Ping.

Subject: Not a chance

Missy,

I accept your challenge, and may I remind you, that if you want me to leave you alone, there is that little bet we have going. Win it, and I'm gone.

Impatiently (and nakedly) yours,

Mr. Hunter Aaron Zaccadelli, esquire.

P.S. Bring it on. 

Oh, he was not getting the last word. I turned the volume down on my computer and did a quick visual sweep of the room to make sure we weren't going to get busted. Everyone else was absorbed in what they were doing.

Subject: Challenge accepted

Mr. Zaccadelli,

If you keep this up, I'm going to report you to the workplace hotline for harassment. They don't take kindly to tattooed, guitar-playing dudes making advances toward sweet, innocent girls. Game ON.

Sincerely,

The Girl You Will Never Have

P.S. Esquire? You are so full of shit

I heard a muffled laugh from Hunter's side of the desk, but I kept my eyes glued to the computer screen. Ladders. Safety precautions when working with ladders...

Ping.

I glared at the computer in irritation. Guess you couldn't turn the sound off.

Subject: Get back to work

Missy,

You're distracting me from the very important topic of workplace safety. How would you feel if I improperly climbed a ladder due to not learning the proper procedure and then fell to my death?