Bared Souls Page 4

  Do I want him to kiss me?

  The truth is there under my tongue, but I’m too scared to set it free.

  Leo cradles my face in his hands. “Open your eyes. Look at me.” His demands are quiet and needy.

  So, I do.

  His deep blue eyes are so close and beautiful as they search mine. “Do you know what I thought when I first saw you in that restaurant today?”

  I can’t speak.

  “I thought that you were the most beautiful, sexiest woman I’d ever seen. Do you know that about yourself? Do you understand how insanely gorgeous you are?”

  I’m having a hard time processing the words leaving his mouth and the sincerity in them. I shake my head.

  I can’t think.

  He continues, “And then I find out that not only is your appearance perfection, but you’re also smart and innocent and kind—well, at least to others.” His lips tilt up in the smallest grin.

  My chest hurts, and my body hums with want for this man standing before me. I feel like my insides are melting with burning need.

  I can’t move.

  “Can I kiss you?” he asks.

  This time, I find the courage to answer, “Yes.” It’s barely audible, but it’s there.

  His hands slide from my cheeks to my hair. He runs his fingers through my wet locks and grasps the strands as he pulls me closer. His tongue traces my lips, so soft. A whimper escapes my mouth, and I gasp, embarrassed of the sound. There isn’t time to think on that, for the second my lips part, Leo enters.

  I can’t breathe.

  My mouth moves against his, and I allow my tongue the freedom to dance with his. It’s intimate and raw, warm and sweet, and hot and desperate, all at once. Standing on my tiptoes, I circle my arms around his neck and pull him closer. I need him closer.

  I can’t get enough.

  The kiss is demanding, and I give it all I have. He sucks my bottom lip and catches my moans in his mouth. I could spend the rest of my days kissing Leo. My fingers caress the nape of his neck, and I push my body against his, knowing that if he asks, I’ll give him everything.

  Leo pulls away and drops his hands from my head. I ache at the loss.

  “Was that your first kiss?” he asks.

  I nod.

  “I thought so.” His voice is labored.

  I take a step toward him, and he extends his arm, halting me. Rounding his shoulders, he stands tall. The air in the room changes, growing colder somehow. I cross my arms over my chest, confused.

  This time, when Leo speaks, all desire is absent from his voice. “You see, Alma, I am such a bad guy after all. Stay the fuck away from me. If you see me on campus, turn and run the other way. Are we clear?”

  I open my mouth to respond, but no words come, and I close it, pressing my lips together, willing myself not to cry—not yet.

  Leo rolls his eyes with a shake of his head and turns to leave.

  “Predictable.” He chuckles dryly, and then he’s gone.

  SIX

  Leo

  “Damn it.” I thread my fingers around the nape of my neck and groan into the night sky. “What the fuck!”

  An empty Mountain Dew can sits atop the pavement, and I kick it.

  What was I thinking?

  I’ve lost my ever-loving mind tonight. I would fucking destroy a girl as sweet as Alma.

  I need to hit something. I need to hurt someone. I need to fuck someone.

  I know what I need.

  I meant what I said to her about being the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. She is. God, she does something to me I can’t explain. I would love to take her tight, little body and fuck her so hard.

  Her ass.

  That long brunette hair with auburn highlights, so thick and soft. Visions of waking up with it splayed across my chest come to mind, but I shake them off.

  No.

  Everything about Alma is perfection—from her flawless tan skin to her round doe eyes to the dimple on her right cheek. I knew from the second I saw her that I needed to hate her. It’s the only option. It’s the only way that works for her. A prick I might be, but I can’t bring myself to ruin her, and I would. God, I would. It would be easy too.

  I’m not sure what Alma’s been through, but it’s something. She has a different air about her than other girls. Her eyes hold determination and pride. I’m not going to break her for fun because it wouldn’t be. For maybe the first time, I don’t care about the challenge. Hell, not that I’d have much of one, given her eagerness tonight.

  I don’t know Alma enough to care about her, but I do. The warning bells that come along with that fact are louder than the rest. I can’t develop feelings for her, and she definitely can’t catch any feelings for me.

  The party is still going strong when I return to the frat house.

  “Hey, man. You okay?” my best friend—only real friend—Ethan asks when I get back.

  “Yeah, just looking for someone,” I answer.

  “You sure?”

  “I’m sure.” I offer him my fist, and he pounds it.

  “All right, man. Let me know if you need anything,” he says as a drunk girl hiccups and wraps her arms around him.

  He shrugs with a knowing smirk, and I shake my head.

  “I’m going back to my place.”

  “Sounds good. See you later,” he tells me before allowing the chick to lead him somewhere.

  I make my way back to the room where we were playing that idiotic drinking game before. Alma’s roommate is way too giggly, and I spot Mike eyeing her.

  “Hey.” I get her attention.

  “Hi,” she says cheerfully.

  “You and your friends need to leave.”

  “What?” She looks to me in question.

  “You need to head back to the dorms. Grab your friends and go.”

  “Why? Is something wrong with Alma?”

  She sounds legitimately concerned, and my suspicions are verified. She’s not some whore like half the girls here. She’s good, like Alma—which is why she needs to leave. I’m not leaving her here with vile creatures like Mike.

  “Get the fuck out. Now.” I raise my voice, staring her and her friends in the eyes.

  “Jeez, okay,” the girl next to Alma’s roommate says. “Let’s go, Quinn. I’m tired anyway.”

  “Okay, me too,” she agrees.

  Her eyes keep darting up to me, as if she’s waiting for me to do something else. I could make a scene if I wanted. I excel at wreaking havoc, but as long as Quinn leaves, there will be no scene.

  I face the back couch, and Sasha eyes me with a heated expression. She makes a show of licking her sucker, which I know is a drug-spiked lollipop. I close the distance between us.

  I snatch the sucker from her hand and put it in my mouth. She pouts.

  “I came back here to get you. Want to head to my place?”

  Her mouth curves into a smile. “Yes, please.”

  “Let’s go.” I hand her sucker back and walk out with Sasha on my heels.

  I live in a house across the street from the frat house. I could’ve stayed in one of the rooms at the fraternity, but it’s not my style. I hang out there often because Ethan’s there and girls like Sasha can always be found in abundance, but I need my own place.

  I don’t need the entire three thousand square feet of space the Victorian house my father bought and renovated for me has, but it is what it is. My house used to belong to a sorority years ago. Now renovated, it’s a kick-ass bachelor pad I don’t deserve.

  “I’ll meet you in my bedroom,” I tell Sasha once we’re inside the house.

  “Okay,” she agrees and flitters off.

  In the kitchen, I open one of the drawers and retrieve a pill bottle, shaking out a couple of the white tablets into my hand. I toss them into my mouth and rinse them down with a swig of whiskey.

  Sasha is naked and ready on my bed when I enter the room. This isn’t her first rodeo.

  SEVEN

&nb
sp; Alma

  I lie in bed, facing the wall for what seems like forever. The sun has been up for hours, but I have no reason to get out of bed yet. Quinn is still sleeping. I can hear her soft breathing. She stumbled in not too long after Leo left last night, but I pretended to be asleep. I didn’t feel like talking.

  I’m still so confused about last night and the kiss. For a minute, he was amazing and sweet, and then the next second, he was back to being an ass. If he’s just a jerk, fine, but why did he have to kiss me and play mind games like that? How did I go from hating him as he glared at me before embarrassing me during the drinking game to wanting him to kiss me? And I did want it. Just as he’d told me I would.

  It was just a kiss, and I can even rationalize it by telling myself that it didn’t mean anything. I’m positive that’s the case for Leo, but it was my first kiss, and I wasted it on someone like him.

  His question made me feel ill.

  “Was that your first kiss?”

  Why did he ask me that? How did he know? Maybe I sucked. I wouldn’t know if I did. I have nothing to compare it to. It’d be horrible if I turned out to be a pitiful kisser.

  I can’t believe my first kiss was given to such an ass.

  Deciding I can’t possibly lie here for another second, I quietly roll out of bed and make my way to the bathroom. I throw on some shorts and a T-shirt and brush my teeth.

  Tomorrow, classes start.

  That’s why I’m here, I remind myself, not for some douche bag of a boy. I run a brush through my hair and pull it back into a ponytail before exiting the bathroom.

  Quinn is sitting up in bed, her back against the wall. She’s looking down, a grimace evident on her face.

  “Good morning,” I say.

  “Do you have to yell?” she grumbles, looking up with a pained grin.

  “That bad?” I shoot her a sympathetic smile.

  “Worse.”

  Thankfully, I feel fine today. Quinn surely drank more after I left and probably didn’t hydrate.

  “I’m sorry. Can I get you anything? A water?” I offer.

  “Yeah, I should probably drink some,” she answers, and I snag a bottle of water from the fridge and hand it to her. “Can you get me some Tylenol? My head is pounding.”

  “Sure.” I walk back to the bathroom and search through the cupboard for the Tylenol. Bringing back two pills, I drop them in her hand.

  “How was your walk back with Leo?” she asks, and I freeze before reminding myself to chill.

  “Eh, fine.”

  Call me a coward, but I don’t want anyone to know about the kiss. It’s just so humiliating.

  “Did anything weird happen?” she questions.

  I feign looking for something over by my dresser. “No. Why?”

  “It’s just … when he got back to the frat house, he was such a jerk. He seemed angry, and he yelled at me to leave.”

  “He yelled at you and made you leave?” I look at Quinn, my eyes wide.

  “Yeah, it was strange.” She takes a sip from the water bottle.

  “Well, the impression I got is that he’s a jerk. So, I wouldn’t take it personally.”

  “You’re right.”

  “How was the party after I left?”

  “It was fun. I wish you could’ve stayed a little longer, but I had a good time with the girls.”

  “Good, I’m glad.”

  A knock sounds at the door, and I look to Quinn. “Are you expecting anyone?”

  She shakes her head. “No.”

  My heart races as I step toward the door, and I’m ashamed to admit why. A familiar smile greets me.

  “Amos?” I shriek, and I wrap my arms around his body, hugging him tight. His hands are full of various bags, so his hug is awkward. “What are you doing here?” I grin and take a step back.

  The sight of my best friend fills my soul with a contentment that’s been lacking since a broody boy’s lips stole my kiss hours ago.

  He raises the bags in his grasp. “I come bearing gifts, and I missed you.”

  “I missed you too,” I say as I step to the side to allow him entrance. “What’s in the bags?”

  He steps inside and places the bags on my bed. “Well, my roommate was telling me about this amazing Chinese restaurant by our campus. It got me thinking about the last time we ordered Chinese. You remember?”

  “The day I got the letter from Eastern, saying everything would be covered for me for the next four years, and you surprised me with a picnic in the park with all of my favorite Chinese dishes? Yeah, I definitely remember.” I grin like a fool.

  That day will always be on the highlight reel as one of the best days of my life because, in that moment, I knew that I was free. On my own, I had made it. I would get a degree, be someone great, and make a difference in this world. All regrets that I’d had about my childhood no longer mattered because I knew that as soon as I stepped foot on this campus, life would be different. My journey would be on my terms, and my parents couldn’t sabotage anything ever again. That letter was my golden ticket, and that picnic was the best celebration.

  “I needed to see you.” His voice is full of emotion. “We celebrated the future of this place together, and now, we need to celebrate your arrival in the same fashion.”

  “You’re too good to me,” I say.

  “Where should we have this picnic?” he asks.

  “Well, Quinn is feeling under the weather, and with her headache, the sun might push her over the edge.”

  “It’s true.” Quinn grins weakly.

  “So, let’s just have it here,” I suggest.

  “Works for me.” Amos removes a blanket from one of the bags and fans it out on the floor between the two beds. He removes the white takeout containers and places them in the center of the blanket along with some plates and sets of plastic silverware.

  “I have grape or red.” He holds up two six-packs of Fanta pop.

  “Ooh, grape, please,” I say.

  “I’ll take a red,” Quinn says and slides off of her bed onto the blanket.

  Amos and I follow suit and sit cross-legged on the soft material across from Quinn. We start serving ourselves.

  “So, how was your first night?” Amos asks.

  “It was good. We went to a frat party,” I tell him.

  “You did?” He sounds surprised. Then, he looks to Quinn in understanding. “Ah, hence the pounding headache.”

  “Yes, exactly,” she says.

  “Did you drink?” he asks me. His tone isn’t accusing, only curious.

  “Some, not as much as Quinn,” I tease. “The party was okay. There were lots of people and loud music. We played a drinking game, and I left early.”

  “You walked back by yourself?” he asks.

  “No, a friend walked back with me.” That is the loosest use of the word friend imaginable. “What did you do?”

  “I went to Pinball Pete’s, this cool vintage arcade place, with Matt and some other guys. Then, we ordered pizza. Pretty chill,” he says.

  “Oh, nice. So, Matt’s getting better?”

  “I think so. I don’t know. The verdict is still out on him.” Amos lets out a dry chuckle.

  “Well, not everyone can have as cool of a roommate as me.” I toss a piece of a crab rangoon in my mouth and wink at Quinn.

  “I wasn’t very cool last night. I drank too much and let you leave without me. And worse yet, I sent you home with the rudest guy on campus. I’ll get better though.” She grins.

  “You went home with a guy last night?” Amos asks.

  “No.” I shake my head. “This guy at the party, Leo, heard that I wanted to go home. Quinn didn’t want me to walk alone. So, he offered to escort me. He walked me back the three blocks and left. It wasn’t a big deal.”

  “Just be careful. Not everyone’s intentions are good,” he warns.

  “I know. It was fine. I promise,” I reassure him because I know he worries about me.

  The three of us
chat about random stuff, and Quinn starts to come back to life with some food in her belly. Seeing Amos today is just what I needed. It reminds me of who I am and why I’m here.

  Worrying about what some guy thought about a kiss isn’t even on my scale of importance. By the time Amos leaves, I’m centered. I feel good and ready to start school tomorrow. As usual, Amos gave me a gift that I hadn’t even known I needed.

  EIGHT

  Leo

  Abandoned buildings with shattered windows take up the eighty-two-inch TV screen. As I sit on the couch, elbows resting on my knees, my thumbs and index fingers push the buttons on my controller at a rapid speed.

  “Okay, Leo, right there. We’re making a run for it,” Ethan yells.

  My avatar follows his across the screen.

  “Oh my God. Holy shit. Look at my health.”

  “Dude, I have no more fucking shields,” I groan. “You know they’re probably going to be waiting for us, right?”

  “They know where we are,” Ethan says.

  Our avatars are hiding in a hollowed-out building.

  “What are we going to do, just sit here? We could just hide out for five minutes to inevitably die,” I say.

  “Shit, dude. Don’t you have class?” Ethan asks.

  I spare a glance at my phone to see the time. “Yeah,” I grumble.

  Truth be told, I don’t know if I’m going to be able to make it two more years until I get my business degree. Freshman and sophomore year almost killed me—or I should say, I almost killed myself—multiple times. My close calls can only be blamed on myself and my inability to make good choices.

  My mother’s voice—like a nagging, high-pitched parrot—rings in my ears. “Make good choices. Make good choices.”

  What does she know about good choices?

  Fuck good choices.

  In the history of my life, what has doing the right thing ever gotten me? More shit. Whether I do what I’m supposed to or the opposite of it, I’m constantly deflecting buckets full of shit. My existence is shit, and this whole get your business degree facade I have going here is a joke.

  I have enough money in my trust fund to live comfortably for the rest of my life. I don’t need my father to provide me with a career. I have zero passion to aid him in anything, let alone align with him in business. My father, retired heartthrob of an actor Victor Harding, decided purchasing a dozen local businesses—from restaurants to golf courses to manufacturing plants—was what he should be doing in retirement. Harding Enterprises is to be run by his two sons. One of whom is capable and one of whom is me.