Bad Impressions (Revive Me #1) (2 page)

***

“Hey.”

My entire body jolted to attention at that one word.

That deep, gravelly rasp of a voice.

I’d know it anywhere.

Shit.
Brad Marsh was standing right behind me.

“Soph?” he tried again when I failed to respond.

The sound of my name on his lips sent a delicious tingle through me.
Urgh. Stop it. You’re not some flighty adolescent with a school girl crush anymore. Pull yourself together.

There was no way I was going to let Brad see that he still affected me; that our one night together had never left my thoughts. He was arrogant enough as it was and I wasn’t about to further inflate his already massive ego. He was a complete bastard and I was damn well going to remember that this time.

Drawing in a calming breath, I forced myself to turn around.

Oh no!
I’d forgotten how hot he was.

The memory of him had faded over the last year, with a lot of effort on my part.

At six-foot-five, he was a towering wall of domineering muscle. Wearing his signature black leather jacket and jeans, he looked like he’d just stepped out of a Calvin Klein commercial. His thick dark brown hair had grown out since the last time I’d seen him. It was wild now. He definitely had that whole
bed head
thing going on. But the thing that stumped me the most were those eyes. Striking hazel pools of intensity. I’d never known a man with eyes as incredible as his.

“Bradley,” I managed.

I watched him flinch at my impersonal tone and my purposeful use of his full name. No one called him by that. It was always
Brad
to everyone that knew him. I was making a point and erecting a firm wall between us, letting him know how it was going to be.

He looked pissed. His jaw set in a stiff line and he ground out, “Welcome home.”

“Thanks.”

He shifted his weight uncomfortably and folded his arms across his chest. His biceps strained against the leather of his jacket and a whisper of desire shot through me. I hated myself for it. He didn’t deserve any of my attention. Not after what he’d done. Not after how he’d left things between us. Like I said, a real bastard through and through. I had to keep reminding myself of that. He was the most distracting man I had ever met. My head knew to run for the hills whenever he was around, but my body? That was a whole other story. It always betrayed me when he was near. It always had. And because I’d had a taste of what he had to offer, it was even worse.

“Ollie says you’re back for good. That true?”

I shoved my hands into the pockets of my navy hoodie. “Maybe.”

He scoffed and shook his head.

How dare he?
“What?” I demanded.

“You got out, Soph!” he hissed, taking a step closer to me. “Why would you come back here?”

I couldn’t believe it. Brad Marsh was lecturing me? Where the hell did he get off?

“It’s not your business.”

“Just asking a question. I’ve never known you to get your back up so easily.”

“You don’t know anything about my life this last year.”

His eyes bore into mine intensely as he said, “I know
you
.”

It caught me off guard.

I was painfully aware that he was standing right in front of me now. There was barely any space between us. I could smell his distinctive scent; that whisper of cologne mixed with sandalwood. All man.

“What…what does that mean?” I shot back, hating the flustered waver in my voice.

“You’re better than this,” he growled. He gestured wildly behind us at the town square. “Better than this dead-end town.”

“Why do you care?”

He leaned into me then. I failed to stifle a gasp as I felt his warm breath against my ear. “I’ve always cared, darlin’.”

Heat radiated through me. I couldn’t breathe for a few seconds. Couldn’t think. But, as he pulled back, breaking the spell he’d cast over me, my common-sense returned.

“Cared? Is that what you call it?” I snapped, harshly. He always did this to me. He always brought out my inner bitch.

“Yeah,” he said, standing firm.

I couldn’t hold it in.

I knew I should. I didn’t want him to know he’d got to me. I didn’t want him to know he’d hurt me.

But I couldn’t hold back and I ended up yelling, “You could have called!”

I watched his eyes flicker with something then…regret? I wasn’t sure and it was gone as quickly as it’d appeared. “I did what I had to do.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

He didn’t answer. He just stared at me. Well
through
me.

He was trying to figure me out, like he always had. He was good at it. We’d been close growing up, on account of him spending more time at my house with my brother, than at his own. He’d been the one person who had always been able to figure me out.

But I knew he wouldn’t be able to anymore.

I’d erected a lot of protective walls in the last year since I’d seen him. Not really because of him. More so, because of my ex.

His brow furrowed with confusion when he realized he couldn’t figure me out.

“What happened?”

Talk about coming out of left field.
“What?”

“Why are you like this?”

“Like what?”

“So…guarded. This isn’t the Sophie I know.”

“The Sophie you know? You mean the Sophie that you fucked and chucked?”

He recoiled at my words and stepped back. “That’s not what happened.”

“It felt a hell of a lot like it to me. You could’ve just told me the truth. You could’ve just admitted it was only sex to you and you didn’t want anything else. You didn’t have to blow me off like that.”

His eyes narrowed.

I saw the flicker of that infamous temper of his.

And then he fired it at me. “Weren’t you dating someone when you begged me to fuck you?”

“I—”

He moved closer again and glowered down at me, heatedly. “Yeah, I believe you were,” he rumbled. “Yet, you came to me.
You
came to me, Soph, not the other way around. You spread your legs for me and begged me to fuck that sweet pussy. And you loved every moment of it, everything I did to you.” He leaned in and whispered, “Remember? Remember how you were trembling in my arms, screaming my name, out of your mind with the pleasure I gave you?”

“Stop!” I said, thrusting my hands into his chest and pushing him back.

He held up his hands angrily. “Happy to, darlin’.” He turned his back and started stomping away. “Welcome back,” he muttered over his shoulder.

Chapter 2

~Brad~

“Mom! Where do you want these last two?” I called out through the bookstore as I carried the last two boxes through the front door.

It was the first Wednesday of the month, which meant
delivery day
for
The Avid Reader
.

The assholes always showed up before the crack of dawn and just dumped the hefty boxes of books on the goddamn doorstep. Lazy fucks. It’d been that way ever since Mom had opened the bookstore a year ago. I’d tried to persuade her countless times to give me their number and let
me
sort it out, but she’d refused. She wanted to handle it without my help. She was stubborn and proud. I guess that’s where I got it from.

I’d held back on that issue, but I sure as hell wasn’t about to let my own mother cart in a shitload of boxes of books by herself. And so, I made sure I was always here this time of the month to take care of it for her. Each time she voiced her objections and each time I ignored her.

“Mom?” I repeated.

A mumble of words came from the far left corner in the
Classics
section, but I couldn’t make it out.

“You’re mumbling again.”

She stepped out of the stacks and approached me. She scanned the print on the two boxes I held in my arms. “Science Fiction section. Second floor. Far back.”

I nodded and headed on up the four steps leading up to the second floor. I passed by a seating area complete with oversized burgundy armchairs. The entire place was as cozy as that little area. She wanted people to feel comfortable, to enjoy the entire experience of being inside a bookstore, rather than just using it as a place to run a quick errand to pick up a book or two.

And it had worked. The store wasn’t due to open for another couple of hours at 8am, but when it was open to the public, it was always packed. I had never stepped inside to find it empty.

She’d done really well with the place.

And she deserved the success more than anyone.

She’d been through a lot. It had taken a long time for her to get back on her feet after all the shit with my dad. This last year, she’d finally managed it. She was finally smiling again. She was happy. She had the store. She was socializing with her friends. It was all good at long last.

I lowered the boxes to the floor. I was about to start opening them and putting the books away when I felt her hand on my shoulder.

“I’ve got it, sweetheart.”

“It’s no trouble, Mom.”

She fixed me with that stare of hers, the one that told me
it was her way or the highway.
I chuckled and stood back up, holding up my hands in surrender. “You’ve got it. I hear you.”

“That’s better,” she said, pulling me to her for a quick hug.

She flicked her long gray hair over her shoulder and started to brush down her floor-length skirt that had dust from the book boxes all over it.

“Where does it all come from?” she muttered.

“Come on. Let’s get a coffee, before it’s time to open,” I said, leading the way.

“Brad,” she called, stopping me in my tracks.

Oh fuck.
My body tensed automatically. I knew that tone. And I knew what she was going to say.

My back to her, I shook my head. “Don’t, Mom.”

She laid her hand on my lower arm. It was as high as she could reach without stretching. She was a petite woman. I had over a foot and a half on her. People often found it odd, but I didn’t get my height from my mom. No, that was all Asshole.

“It’s time,” she told me. “I’m fine now. You’ve done enough.”

“Mom—”

“No, Brad. I’m serious. You need to live
your
life now. It’s time, sweetheart. That bar is not for you. I want you to go back to college.”

“Mom, I—”

My words caught in my throat as the bell chimed and someone walked on in.

My breath hitched as I saw that it was none other than Soph.
What’s she doing here at 6am in the fucking morning? Unbelievable.

I turned to my mom. “Looks like you have a confused customer.”

She looked past me and her eyes lit up when she caught sight of Soph.
Oh, hell.
I’d forgotten how she felt about her.

“Are you sure she’s not here to see
you
?”

I scoffed. “Believe me, she’s not.”

“Lover’s tiff?”

“Mom, lay off.”

She laughed and brushed past me to make her way down the steps towards Soph who was wandering around the first floor, her expressive blue eyes wide with wonder as she took in the store.

Shit
. The look on her face did things to me. She was so excited, so full of life in that moment. It was what had been missing in her last night.

But, then again, Soph had always been in her element around books.

I watched her greet Mom with a long, drawn-out hug.

That was when I noticed she was dressed…differently. Like a city girl.

She was wearing a business suit—a black skirt and matching blazer. Both hugged her tight little body just right.
Hot damn.

The rest was…off. Not like the Soph I remembered. Her calves were hidden beneath a pair of knee-high leather boots. The length of her skirt barely left any skin uncovered—it fell just above her knees. Even her white blouse was buttoned up right to her neck. Her soft golden hair was swept up into a high ponytail.

But even then, weirdly covered up, she still had the ability to wake my dick up from just one fucking glance. She looked like a sexy-as-fuck librarian. If only that skirt was hitched up a little higher…those buttons on her shirt undone.
Stop it! Get a grip, asshole!

Christ.
That woman did things to me. Even our brief conversation the other night had been a strenuous exercise in torture. I’d almost slipped when I’d gotten too close to her. If she hadn’t pushed me back and then pissed me off so much, I honestly don’t know what I would’ve done. She’d been home barely a couple of days and already I was struggling to control myself around her.