Breaking Even (37 page)

Ignoring the man who is pouring a glass of orange juice, making himself entirely too comfortable in my childhood kitchen, I take a steadying breath before trying to answer.

“My phone messed up again. Lost track of time,” I say through clenched teeth, feeling my body tense all over when Ray slides his arm around Mom’s waist and tugs her back against his front. When she giggles and leans against him before stroking his face, I gag out loud.

“Oh, Wren. Stop it. I’m a grown woman.”

“And he’s a fucking con artist! Last I checked, you’re exactly the sort of woman he targets.”

Ray cocks an eyebrow at me, but doesn’t act offended, which only pisses me off all the more. But Mom... Shit. She looks like she’s ready to beat my ass.

“Wren Prize, I love you, but
you
don’t get to judge people for making mistakes in the past.”

I glare at her when I hear her underlying meaning. “
I
fucked up one night. He fucked up for years. He’s a—”

“A man who served his time and now works for the FBI, a security designer for highly reputable businesses, and a very wealthy man on his own who doesn’t need my money.”

I wasn’t going to say any of those things and she knows it.

“I should probably leave the two of you alone,” Ray says with smile while leaning down to kiss her cheek. “I deserve what he’s saying, dear. I’ll see you upstairs,” he adds.

Bile rises to my throat upon hearing that oversharing tidbit. My eyes are already burning from the images my mind is producing against my will.

Ray walks off, and I immediately start back in. “When the hell did you start...
dating
Ray Drivel?”

“Capperton. He prefers Capperton because of his daughter. And we’re not dating... exactly. We’re just two people who happen to enjoy the physical company of each other.”

I’m going to be sick for days. Did my mother just confess a friends-with-benefits arrangement?

“I have to go,” I groan, darting out of the house even as my mother says something my ears can’t hear. Apparently they’re scarred as much as my eyes are.

It’s not until I get almost to Allie’s house that I realize I never did get the groceries I dropped in the kitchen floor when I saw the con in my mother’s robe.

Not a good day.

Chapter Two

Cancun — Seven Years ago...

ALLIE

“Allie Thrash. I’ll be damned. In Cancun and drinking,” Chris says, assaulting me with his toxic breath when he stands too close.

Only in Mexico and under the influence of a lot of tequila would the captain of the football team suddenly recognize me. Small towns are terrible for having some stupid hierarchy, and I’m sure as hell on the bottom.

“Nice ass, nice tits, nice... share,” he slurs. I think he meant to say hair.

“Thanks,” I grumble, doing what I can to peel myself away from him. I never should have agreed to this stupid senior trip, but I know Bella wanted to come. She hasn’t ever been any more popular than I am, but she sure as hell has blossomed and turned into a girl the guys want. Too bad she no longer wants any of them.

“Hey, Allie. Over here,” Bella calls, waving me over toward two guys who look a little older, and I gratefully skip toward her and away from Chris Peterson.

I stumble to a halt when I see the guys up close, because they’re sure as hell not from here or back home.

“Hey, these guys are from Cali like us. This is Tag Masters and his friend Wren... Um... Sorry, I don’t know your last name.”

“Jacobs,” the guy with dark hair, soft lips, and a delicious smile says as he sticks his hand out for me. Wren Jacobs. I really like that name.

“I’m Allie Thrash,” I mumble shyly, prompting his grin to grow.

“How drunk are you?” Tag asks Wren, though I don’t know why.

Wren grins at me before giving me a wink that makes my heart flutter almost too painfully. No one has ever looked at me like that. I’ve always been the foster girl who lived in Mr. and Mrs. Johnson’s home. My identity has always been as lost as me, but right now, I feel like someone is looking at me for the first time without any judgment, pity, or discomfort. I feel... like a normal person.

“Tequila is my best friend,” Wren tells Tag, prompting the guy to laugh. Tag seems thoroughly interested in Bella, fortunately. Which leaves all of Wren’s attention focused on me.

“Want to grab a drink?” Wren asks me.

This trip finally feels like it’s worth it.

***

ALLIE

“You’re drunk. We shouldn’t do this,” Wren says in forced protest, but his lips continue to stroke mine, just as his tongue returns to explore my mouth. I could kiss him all night, but I want more.

I refuse to leave here without doing this. For me. I need to feel wanted. Wren’s hands feel like medicine on burned skin, and his lips taste like heaven saving me from hell. I’m tired of being old before my time, and I want to be as free and wild as everyone else my age for a change.

“Please,” I whisper. “You’re drunk too. I swear I’m sober enough.”

Never thought I’d have to beg.

He gives me a lopsided grin while leaning back, his fingers toying with the strings on my bikini top until he pulls them free, exposing me to his hungry eyes. I’ve never felt so good about myself.

“Baby, if you really want this, I won’t refuse, but you don’t have to,” he says again, nibbling my bottom lip while grabbing my hips a little rougher.

A whimper escapes me, and my heart grows heavy in my chest, pounding as though it might escape at any moment. This is more exciting, more passionate, and far more desired than my first time where I stupidly trusted the wrong idiot with my virginity.

I’ve only known Wren for one night, but I’ve never had anyone look at me the way he is. It’s as though I’ve gotten a redo here. A fresh start. He doesn’t know me or my baggage, and he just wants
me.

“I really want to do this,” I whisper against his lips.

His grin returns, and he stands with me strapped around his waist, staggering lightly and snickering when he catches his balance. When he drops me to my hotel room bed, my grin only grows. A drunken night in Mexico. Just what the doctor ordered.

Wren doesn’t waste time shedding his clothes, and I follow his lead. Instead of going with any foreplay, he pushes me up on the bed and settles between my legs.

“I’ve wanted to do this all night. Last chance to back out,” he says as he produces a condom from the pocket of his shorts that are discarded beside us on the bed, his body swaying off balance when he tries to sit back on his haunches.

I shake my head, licking my lips when I see his body fully naked and poised to take mine. Unable to look away, I watch as the rubber sheathe rolls down the hard flesh that is making me flush from head to toe.

“I want to do this,” I say in a rasp whisper.

He grins as he drops back down, putting a hand on either side of my head, and he pushes in, slowly sinking into me with a burning, stretching feel. This feels so much better than last time.

“Damn,” he murmur softly. “So good.”

I reach up to touch him just as he pulls back and thrusts forward a little harder, eliciting a moan or a whimper from me. Not sure which. I want to kiss him, but his head is back as he thrusts in harder and harder, building something inside of me like I wasn’t expecting.

I’ve had orgasms—most self-induced. But this... Something powerful is building inside me, claiming me with a power that promises I’m going to be in pain when it explodes. It takes me a minute to realize those terrible sounds are coming from me, but I can’t stop them any more than I can stop the powerful eruption that rolls through me, shocking me, my scalp tingling all the way down to my curled toes.

Wren grunts loudly before thrusting in once more, and I lay there panting as he slowly pulls out, smiling as he unsheathes himself from the rubber he’s wearing. He tosses it in the trashcan without a backwards glance and moves to put on his shorts again.

“What are you doing?” I ask breathlessly, wondering if my legs are ever going to stop shaking. I feel... boneless. Incredible.

“I have to go find Tag. I’ve been missing for a while. I’ll catch up with you some time.”

My heart sinks like a sickened rock, and I move to sit up, sure that I heard him wrong.

“You’re leaving?”

He staggers sideways, barely catching himself on the wall, proving he’s much drunker than I am.

“Yeah. Bye, Allie.”

The door shuts and a tear falls from my eyes without my consent. How could I seriously be this stupid? I knew better. Fucking knew better than to expect more, but after spending all day together, I at least expected a damn kiss after the deed was done. Or during.

Feeling used and exposed, I stand, only to feel something that only makes me sicker. My thighs are much too wet, and I rush to the trashcan to retrieve the discarded condom. To my horror, my fears are confirmed. The end is broken, meaning...

Shit. Shit. Shit.

It takes me ten minutes to calm the hell down, but I finally convince myself that there’s no way I’m pregnant. No one gets pregnant after just one time. I’ll be fine. No worries. It was just a mistake that will
never
happen again.

Wren Jacobs will forever be my cautionary tale when I want to trust a guy too soon or do something as spontaneous and stupid as this. He won’t be the son of bitch that ruins my life.