More Than Once (2 page)

Read More Than Once Online

Authors: Elizabeth Briggs

Tags: #new adult contemporary romance, #rock star, #Romance, #New Adult, #college, #Romantic Comedy, #rocker, #rock band, #tattoos, #reality tv show, #Contemporary, #Geek, #nerd, #bad boy, #Sex, #Christmas, #Holiday, #fake romance, #second chances, #pretend boyfriend

BOOK: More Than Once
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I rubbed the back of my neck and gave her a sheepish smile. “I didn’t realize I was supposed to buy her something until the guy in the cubicle next to me asked me what I’d gotten. I know, I’m an idiot. But cut me some slack, it’s my first office job.”

The woman behind me cleared her throat and inched her stuff forward on the counter. The line was growing longer and longer and I felt bad about holding it up, but I wanted to talk to this girl who had magically appeared back in my life like some kind of holiday miracle.

She looked damn good, too. Her hair was different—still short, but more of a light gold instead of platinum blonde—and I remembered tangling my fingers in it to yank her head back and devour her neck. All the piercings that had run up and down her ears were gone, too, which was a shame. Not that it made her any less sexy.

She rang up the scarf, examining it, letting the silk slide through her fingers. “This is a nice scarf. She’ll like it.”

“Glad you approve.” I took my time pulling out my wallet and flipping through it for some cash. “It’s amazing to see you again. Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t call you or anything—”

“It’s fine,” Becca said, although her voice suggested otherwise. “I didn’t call you either, after all.”

“I was planning on calling you, I swear. I’ve just been really busy and—”

She stared at the register, biting her lower lip. “That’ll be $26.52.”

“Oh. Of course.” I counted out the bills slowly, trying to delay the moment as long as I could. The people behind me were really getting anxious now, sighing, shuffling, and making other annoyed noises. I handed Becca the cash, and my fingers brushed against her slim wrist. Her breath hitched and her eyes met mine again.

A memory flashed: My hands circling her wrists, holding her arms down above her head. Her legs wrapped tight around my ass while I slammed into her. Her voice at my ear, begging for it harder, faster, rougher.

That day had been one of the worst in my life, but that night had been one of the best—all because of her. But when it was over, we’d both walked away without another word. I should have contacted her, but I’d been too broken up after what had happened with Tara. I hadn’t been ready to get involved with another girl back then—and still wasn’t, really.

The longer I’d waited to call Becca, the harder it was to get in touch. I wasn’t sure she really
wanted
me to contact her either. I’d even convinced myself she wouldn’t remember my name.

But she did.

She gave me the slightest hint of a smile. Finally. “It’s good to see you, Andy—er, Andrew.”

“It is. You look…” My gaze ran up and down her body, and the heat between us flared to life, still as intense as it had been five months ago. “You look incredible.”

“No, I don’t, but thanks.”

“You do.” I was itching to touch her again, even for only a second. A piece of her hair was out of place, which seemed like the perfect excuse. I reached forward and smoothed it back slowly while I kept my eyes locked on hers. “Hey, since we ran into each other, would you like to—”

An older woman with big hair pushed her way over to us. “Taking another break, Becca?”

“Shit,” Becca muttered. She turned to face the woman. “Not a break, Marcie. I’m just saying hello to a friend quickly.”

Marcie crossed her arms. “Looks like a lot more than that.”

“Oh, yeah? What does it look like?”

She gave me a sideways glance. “Looks like you’re hitting on one of our customers here.”

Hang on. If anything, I’d been hitting on Becca, not the other way around. “No, I—”

Becca shoved my scarf in a bag and thrust it at me, giving me a fake, sweet smile. “Here you go, sir. Have a nice day.” She turned back to Marcie. “Got a problem with that?”

“You’re damn right I have a problem. You’re holding up the line with your shameless flirting.”

Becca rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry. Next time I’ll throw his bag at him and tell him to get the fuck out of here. That what you want?”

Marcie gasped and glanced behind me at the line, which had gone silent. “Missy, I’m tired of your attitude. Get your stuff and get out of here. Your paycheck will be in the mail.”

Whoa, that escalated quickly. I flashed the woman a friendly smile. “Hey, it’s my fault, really. I was the one talking to her and holding up the line. Don’t take it out on Becca. I’ll leave right now.”

Becca tore her nametag off her shirt and slammed it on the counter. “No, this is good. I was ready to quit this shithole anyway.”

Marcie huffed, while everyone else in the store watched it all go down and another Christmas song started playing in the background. “We don’t need girls like you working in our store,” she said. “You’re just like the last one we fired. Your type is always trouble.”

“My
type
?” Becca asked, standing up straighter. “What type is that?”

“Trashy,” Marcie said under her breath, her eyes narrowing.

“What did you call me?” Becca’s face turned bright red, and she strode toward Marcie with her hands clenched in fists. I didn’t know what she would do next, but it couldn’t be good. Even if the woman deserved it for calling her that.

I blocked Becca’s path and looped my arm through hers. “C’mon. Let’s get out of here.”

Becca growled, but she let me direct her away while Marcie apologized to the people in line behind me. A security guard followed us while we took a detour into the employee lounge for Becca to grab her leather jacket, then headed for the exit through an aisle in the women’s department. With all the clothes strewn about the floor, it looked like it had been hit by a tornado. No wonder she was ready to quit.

Once we got to the parking lot, Becca kept going without a word, through the falling snow that had picked up since I’d gone inside. She stopped in front of an older Buick and let out a frustrated yell that echoed through the cold air.

I shoved my hands in my pockets, feeling like a complete asshole. “I’m so sorry I got you fired.”

“It’s not your fault. My manager’s had it out for me from the beginning. Trust me, it’s not the first time I’ve been fired. And knowing me, it won’t be the last either.” She reached around in her jacket like she was looking for something. She stopped and kicked the car’s tire with one of her beat-up combat boots. “God dammit!”

I flinched at the sharpness in her voice, guilt tearing me up inside. We hadn’t spoken in months because I’d been too stupid to call her, and now I’d gotten her fired. On Christmas Eve. “No, this isn’t right. I’m going back in there to talk to your boss. Once I explain that I was holding up the line, not you, she’ll have to give you your job back.”

“Thanks, but don’t bother. I hated that job and it didn’t pay for shit anyway. The real problem is now I have to tell my parents I got fired
and
dumped by my boyfriend on Christmas Eve. Not that they’ll be surprised. They’re used to me being a total screw-up all the time.”

She leaned against the car and closed her eyes. For a second, her tough-girl mask slipped and her face showed only vulnerability and pain. She was having a terrible day and a huge part of that was my fault. I felt horrible about it but, at the same time, I was hit with some perverse pleasure hearing she was single. I immediately crushed it down.

“Sorry about your boyfriend, but any guy who would break up with a girl on Christmas Eve isn’t worth your time,” I said. “And you’re not a screw-up. You’ve just had a rough day. Happens to all of us.”

She snorted at that. “Somehow I doubt my parents will see it that way. We’re having a family dinner tonight at my sister’s place and I was hoping I could show them I was finally turning my life around, but guess that’s not going to happen.”

“They’re your family. They’ll understand that sometimes things don’t work out the way you want.” I knew that all too well after what had happened with Tara. One second I’d thought my future was all planned out. The next, I was snapping a ring box shut and walking away with my heart ripped to shreds.

“Yeah, sure.”

She had to be cold, wearing only a black leather jacket over her clothes, but she didn’t show it. I shrugged out of my coat and stepped close, draping it over her shoulders, even though I’d be freezing in a few minutes in only my suit. Her eyes fluttered open, and she gave me a faint smile. “Thanks.”

I nodded, my throat tightening at the sight of that smile. She wore the sexy, bright red lipstick I remembered from before, and I had the strongest urge to kiss it right off her. God, this girl was dangerous. I’d spent the last few months completely dead inside, yet somehow she’d jolted me back to life in a matter of minutes. Problem was, I wasn’t sure I was ready to be resurrected yet.

She pulled the jacket tighter around herself and took a deep breath. “What about you? Any big plans for Christmas?”

“No plans.” I looked away so she couldn’t see what it cost me to admit that. “I just started at this job a few months ago and I’m trying to make a good impression, so I didn’t want to ask for any vacation time to visit my parents back in Michigan.”

“That’s rough. What about friends here? A nice guy like you must have made some by now.”

“Nope…it’s just me this year.” Friends? Ha. I shrugged it off, rubbing my hands together for warmth. “It’s all right. I have a lot of work to do, and the office will be nice and quiet. I’ll even get paid time-and-a-half if I come in on Christmas Day.” The excuse sounded pathetic even to my ears.

“No shit?” She let out a short, harsh laugh. “That is the saddest thing I’ve ever heard. You can’t be alone at Christmas!”

“It’s not that big a deal, really…”

She suddenly straightened up, her eyes widening. “I have the perfect idea.”

“You do?”

“It’s the best solution to both our problems. You come with me to my family’s holiday dinner tonight and pretend to be my boyfriend. You’re definitely the kind of guy who will impress my parents, and that way you won’t have to spend Christmas Eve alone.”

“Pretend to be your boyfriend?” A wave of panic swept over me at the thought. I wasn’t ready to be anyone’s boyfriend—fake or otherwise. “I’m not sure that’s such a great idea. Couldn’t you just tell your parents what happened?”

“Ugh, of course you would say that. Fine, forget it. It was a stupid idea anyway.” She pushed off the car and unlocked the door with her key.

“Hang on,” I said, taking her arm and turning her back to face me. If she got in that car, I’d probably never see her again, and I couldn’t let her go just yet. Not until I fixed things between us somehow. “What kind of food are we talking here?”

A slight grin touched her lips. “My mom always makes enough food to feed the entire neighborhood. Turkey and ham, stuffing, mashed potatoes, yams with marshmallows, green bean casserole, five kinds of pies… I could keep going, but you probably get the idea.”

“Hmm, that
is
very tempting. But are you sure they’d be okay with me showing up unexpectedly?”

“They expect me to bring the perfect boyfriend I’ve been telling them about for weeks. You’ll fit the bill.” She tilted her head and considered. “That reminds me, you’ll have to go by the name Brett, too.”

“Brett?” She was kidding, right? One look at her face told me she wasn’t. I had zero desire to pretend to be some other guy on Christmas Eve, but after getting her fired, how could I possibly say no? I owed her this favor at the very least. “Anything else I should know?”

“Nah, I never told them that much. Just that I was dating a nice, handsome guy.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Hmm, not sure I fit that description.”

“You know you do, pretty boy.” She met my gaze head-on. “Look, after tonight you don’t have to see me again. Once the holidays are over, I’ll tell them we broke up, and we can pretend it never happened. So are you in or out?”

The smart thing to do was to say goodnight and high-tail it back to my car. I wasn’t ready to get involved with any girl, let alone one who turned my insides out with a single look or the slightest touch. But there was something about her that I couldn’t walk away from, not this time.

“All right, I’ll pretend to be your boyfriend tonight…but only if you agree to go on a real date with me later.”

CHAPTER THREE
BECCA

“A
date?” I asked, certain I’d heard him wrong.

“Yes, one date,” Andrew said. “Just you and me and a nice, quiet restaurant with great food. If you don’t enjoy yourself, you never have to go out with me again.”

“Why the hell would you want that?”

Andrew lightly touched my cheek, making my breath catch. “Because since that night, I’ve never stopped thinking about you.”

His touch sent a rush of primal heat through me, but I couldn’t meet his eyes. “You have a funny way of showing it.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I wanted to call you, but after Tara… I just needed some time to get my head straight. And you could have called me, too.”

He had me there. But I’d known from the beginning that Andrew and I weren’t meant to be. Guys like him didn’t go out with girls like me. And if they did, they always ended it soon after. Brett was the perfect example of that.

Andrew had been the same. He’d said he would call me after we hooked up, but he never had. As the months passed without a word, it became obvious I was a brief mistake he wanted to quickly move on from. Why would it be any different this time?

“Look Andrew, you’re a ni—”

“Wait.” He held up his other hand. “Just stop right there.”

I blinked. “What?”

“You’re about to say I’m a nice guy, but you think we should just be friends, right? Believe me, I’ve heard that line more times than I can count.”

Shit, that was exactly what I was going to say. “Um…”

Without hesitation, he pressed me against the side of my car, his fingers sliding to the back of my neck and into my short hair. I gasped and heat flared between us, so hot I was sure it was melting every inch of snow in the entire parking lot.

“You didn’t think I was ‘nice’ that night, did you?” he asked, his voice low, his eyes locked on mine.

“No,” I whispered. Memories of that night still haunted me in the best way. I’d lie in bed when I couldn’t sleep and slide my hand between my legs, remembering the way he’d pounded into me, the way he’d held me down, the way he’d been rough and demanding and completely in control. We’d given each other exactly what we’d both needed, but I never imagined he would want anything to do with me after that. Because in the morning, we’d both gone back to who we were: the good guy and the bad girl.

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