Bared Souls Page 5

  This idea that my dad has of me getting a degree in business, so I can be COO of Harding Enterprises is idiotic. The COO job is mine whether I get a degree or not. Everyone knows that anything important is learned on the job anyway. My textbooks contain nothing that will be of any use down the line.

  And who decided running a company is what I should be doing for a living? I’m the last person who should be in charge of anything of importance. Besides, Stephen—who would allow himself to be fucked up the ass with a shampoo bottle if it meant he’d earn an extra dollar on a deal—is doing just fine. Greedy fuck. As big of an asshole as Stephen is, he should be in charge of all of my dad’s investments. Not me.

  The one saving grace is that my dad allowed me to pick any college I wanted, so I chose Eastern since my one and only friend was here. Growing up with as much money as I did, it’s hard to make real friendships. I should know since it’s only happened once.

  “I’m going to skip it,” I tell Ethan, keeping my eyes on the large screen.

  “Bro, it’s the first damn week. You’ll be skipping plenty soon enough. Go to class.” He shuts off my Xbox console just as I was downing an enemy.

  “Damn it!” I complain.

  “Go to class,” Ethan repeats.

  “Fine.” I shove my phone into my back pocket and throw my backpack over my shoulder. “Lock up on your way out.”

  “Always do,” Ethan calls out as the front door slams behind me.

  I pull up my schedule to remind myself what class I’m supposed to be heading toward. Right, Econ.

  Then, I see her.

  Fuck.

  I stop moving, and I stare, taking her in.

  She’s sitting on the grass, her back against a tree and a book in her hand. It’s not a textbook. It could be required reading for a Lit class, or she’s one of those people who reads for pleasure. I knew she was a nerd the second I laid eyes on her. A beautiful, innocent, boring, lame-ass nerd.

  And yet I stay in place, incapable of movement as I watch. Her face carries so many expressions, and they change as she reads. What she’s reading now must be humorous because her lips tilt up in a grin, and I can’t turn away. She’s stunning. I can read her face like a book. This one couldn’t keep a secret to save her life, I’m sure of it. The way she wears her emotions so boldly for the world to see is something that I love about her.

  Hold it. Back the fuck up. Love about her? Wrong word choice.

  Let’s try … find intriguing about her.

  On Saturday, she told me everything I needed to know without saying a word. I knew she was into me. It was clear she wanted to kiss me, and I was shocked when I saw the fact that my lips were the first to touch hers written all over her face.

  Knowing that I’m the only person to wrap my tongue with hers and feel those soft lips against my own is a turn-on for sure. I wonder how many firsts she’d give me. Hell, I know she’d give them all to me. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to take them from her, too, but I can’t. As much as I’d enjoy it, I can’t.

  Innocence isn’t something I take.

  I’d break a girl like Alma. I might be an asshole, but I’m not cruel. Even someone like me has limits, and she is clearly mine.

  Yet why can’t I walk away? What is it about her that pulls me in with such intensity? Why am I still staring at her like a fucking creeper?

  As if she can read my thoughts, she raises her gaze and captures me in it.

  The sight of me standing here, staring, definitely startles her. Her breath hitches, but she doesn’t look away, and I can see it on her face that she doesn’t want to.

  Interesting.

  After the way I left things in her dorm room, she should be angry. My intention after all was to make her mad and hate me. She seems almost … expectant.

  I walk toward her.

  Bad choice—here I go again.

  As I close the space between us, she whips her face to each side, as if hoping to find someone next to her, someone else I’m walking toward. Though she knows exactly where I’m heading.

  I stop a foot from her, and she tilts her face up to study mine.

  “Hey,” I grunt.

  “Um, hi.” She frowns.

  “How’s your first week going?” What in the actual hell am I doing right now? Small talk?

  Her face hardens. “Why are you talking to me?”

  And she has a backbone, ladies and gentlemen. Fuck, if that doesn’t turn me on.

  “Why wouldn’t I?” is the best I can come up with.

  She closes her novel and slides it into her backpack before standing up. She rounds her shoulders, her back straight. She can’t be much over five feet two, so I’m still looking down on her.

  “ ‘Stay the fuck away from me. If you see me on campus, turn and run the other way,’ ” she repeats the words I spoke to her after our kiss. “So, let me ask you again. Why are you talking to me?”

  I shrug, my face unbothered. “Because I can.”

  “I gotta go,” she says hastily before taking a quick step around me.

  I grab her arm. “Wait.”

  She squints and glares at the spot where my fingers are wrapped around her arm.

  I quickly release my grasp and hold my palms out in apology. “Sorry. Can you wait just a minute?”

  “Why?” she snaps.

  “Because …” I pause to gather my thoughts. “I wanted to ask you if you’ve tried the world’s best chili-cheese fries.”

  She raises an eyebrow. “What?”

  I hitch my thumb in the direction of the main street that runs past campus. “There’s this place, Coney Island, just a couple of blocks down, and my man, Luca, makes the best chili-cheese fries. So, I just think you should try them … maybe now. With me.”

  “You want to go grab some food? Together?”

  She seems confused, and I don’t blame her. I have no idea what’s going on.

  “You have to eat, right?”

  She looks toward the large brick building to the right that houses the campus cafeteria. “I was just going to grab something with my meal plan.”

  “Seriously, nothing in there will hold a candle to Luca’s fries. It’s my treat for being an asshole on Saturday and all other times to come.”

  “So, it’s an apology for Saturday and future times when you’ll be an ass?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why don’t you just not be a dick?” she questions, holding back a smile.

  My lips form a slight pucker. “I can’t help it. It’s what I do, but I’m admitting that what I said Saturday was wrong, and I’d like to apologize over a plate full of fries … and who knows? Perhaps, we can be friends.”

  “Friends?”

  “Yeah. Why not?”

  “Okay,” she answers quietly with a shake of her head, as if she can barely believe she’s agreed to hang out with the guy who screamed at her a few nights ago.

  I can’t believe she’s agreed to come with me either.

  We’ve taken a few steps toward the road when regret starts to surface. It’s only a matter of time before it will scream within. This isn’t a good idea, and I’m fully aware of that fact. However, I’m incapable of stopping it. I need to see her, to be by her.

  Maybe I could do the friend thing with her.

  As much as I want it, I know it’s a lie.

  NINE

  Alma

  Leo is silent as we walk toward the restaurant. There’s a nervous energy encircling us. It’s like we’re surrounded by one of those glass plasma globes that you see at science museums. There are strands of electric currents shooting out from us in all directions, and everyone around us is immune to it. However, if I were to reach my arm out or step out of place, I’d be shocked with a volt of electricity that would bring me to my knees. I just know it.

  “So, you were coming from class?” I ask an obvious question. Smooth, Alma.

  He hesitates. “Uh, yeah, Econ.”

  I nod. “I was just
reading. Nothing for school, just a romantic comedy. I’m done with classes for the day.” Word vomit spills from my mouth, and I hate myself.

  Leo doesn’t respond.

  We reach the diner, and he opens up the door. I step in, and a man greets us from behind the counter.

  “Leo, my boy! My favorite customer!” the man shouts with a large grin.

  “Please, old man. You say that to all the kids.” Leo waves him off and takes a seat.

  The gentleman places two red plastic cups of water down in front of us a second after we sit. He pulls two menus out from under his arm and sets them before us. “Just in case you want something different,” he says to Leo. “This is the first time you’ve brought a lady friend.”

  “Stop being creepy, Luca, and just bring us two plates of chili-cheese fries and two Cokes.” He hands his menu back to Luca with a small grin before turning his attention to me. “Do you want anything else or something else to drink?” He tilts his head toward each shoulder, stretching his neck. “I’m sorry. That was rude.”

  “No, fries and a Coke are fine.” I give my menu back to Luca as well.

  “You got it,” Luca says before heading off.

  “You come here a lot then?” I ask Leo.

  He nods. “Yeah. Honestly, the food is great, and Luca’s a good guy. He lost his wife and only son in a car accident my freshman year. It’s sad. So, if you know any single middle-aged women, send them in. I think he’s lonely.”

  Leo’s words are so surprising. The conversation is almost normal and shows a side of him I never imagined.

  “So, you’re a matchmaker in your free time?”

  “I have many talents.” His words are suddenly deeper, and I take a quick drink of my water.

  Luca comes back with our drinks and food. “Enjoy, friends.”

  “Thank you,” I tell him as he retreats back behind the counter.

  “So, each fry needs some chili, cheese, ranch, and ketchup.” Leo loads up a French fry with all of the fixings on his fork and takes a bite.

  “Ranch and ketchup too? Isn’t the point of these fries the chili and cheese?” I eye him skeptically.

  “No.” He shakes his head. “Trust me, you need the ranch and ketchup.”

  “Okay.” I load up my fork in the same manner as Leo and try a bite. “So good.” I stifle a moan as a burst of flavor fills my mouth.

  Leo full-on smiles, and it’s a devastating event. Sullen Leo is the most handsome man I’ve ever seen, but happy Leo is more than my heart can take.

  “I told you,” he says with a modest shrug.

  We chat about our majors. I tell Leo that I want to be a teacher, and he tells me that he’s going to help his dad run all of his pet projects. It sounds like Mr. Harding buys businesses like some women buy shoes. He tells me that he chose Eastern because his best friend goes here, which makes sense. I’d have attended U of M to be with Amos if I could’ve afforded it. The meal is … normal—well, as normal as time spent with Leo Harding can be.

  I can tell he’s on his best behavior, and yet there’s still an edge to him, a darkness that keeps parts of him hidden. I’m still not sure why I agreed to this in the first place.

  Does Leo really want to be friends? More importantly, do I?

  I eat as many fries as I can manage but have more than half the plate left when I’m finished. Leo cleans his plate.

  “Do you want some of mine?” I grin.

  “Nah, I’m good.”

  “You sure?” I shoot him a smirk.

  “Hey, this is the first thing I’ve eaten all day. Stop judging.”

  “I’m not judging. I was just kidding. And it’s six o’clock. Why haven’t you eaten anything today?”

  “Busy,” is his only response.

  He holds his wallet under the table and pulls out a bill. Folding it, he slips it under his plate. He was trying to be sneaky about it, but I caught sight of the hundred-dollar bill before it was concealed under the dish.

  “Let’s go,” he says, standing abruptly from the table.

  “Leo,” Luca calls out when the bell above the door chimes as we open it.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, old man,” Leo says playfully as we exit.

  On instinct, I walk in the direction of my dorm room. Leo doesn’t offer much in the way of conversation. There were parts of this … date that were normal, fun even. Yet the moment’s pregnant with silence with distinct reminders of the inherent awkwardness between the two of us. There’s some connection between us—I can’t deny that—but where does it go from here?

  Leo follows me up the stairs of my dorm and to my door, a sickening sense of déjà vu present. I open the door to find the space empty. Quinn’s probably at the dining hall for dinner.

  I drop my backpack on the floor and turn to address Leo standing in the doorframe. “Thank you for dinner. I appreciate it, and apology accepted.”

  “What?” Leo lowers his gaze toward me.

  “You said dinner was an apology for Saturday.” Uncertainty fills my thoughts.

  Leo pulls in a breath. “Right.”

  “So, I guess I’ll see you around,” I say softly.

  “Yeah, okay,” Leo answers and extends a hand toward my face before tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

  The movement is so foreign and intimate and out of place. Or maybe it’s not out of place at all in this weird back and forth that Leo and I have going.

  “Alma, I’m sorry.” Leo takes a step toward me, and I retreat backward, the dorm door closing behind him.

  I swallow. “I know. You said that. It’s fine. Water under the bridge.”

  Leo closes the distance between us and takes my hands in his. “I’m sorry for taking your first kiss and then ending it that way. I’m not a good person, but that’s not an excuse. You deserved better.”

  “It’s …” I start to say before Leo raises his finger to my lips.

  He shakes his head. “It’s not okay.”

  My heart thrums in my chest, a desperate, intoxicating rhythm. I’m finding it hard to inhale enough air. Leo’s finger scalds my lips. They ache and demand more.

  His hungry blue eyes speak to me, and I understand because they mirror my own.

  The desire that I feel for Leo right now is visceral. It’s all around me. It burns in my lungs with every breath I take. It pulses in my heart with each beat. It rolls around in my gut, where electric shocks pulse, shooting waves of lust to my groin. I feel dirty and wrong. Close to insanity. Wanting Leo’s touch doesn’t make sense, and my mind knows this, but my head is no longer in control. My body wants him, if only for a kiss. Damn the consequences.

  My tongue peeks out of my mouth, and I lick the tip of Leo’s finger. I want to hide in shame at the movement until Leo’s eyes go wide, and his lips part, his breath heavy. A sense of power comes over me.

  I flick my tongue against the pad of his finger again and suck. He releases a heady groan.

  “Alma”—his voice is husky and raw—“you don’t want to do that.”

  I bite the tip of his finger.

  He rips his finger from my mouth and roughly cradles my face between his hands. He turns me around and walks us backward until I’m against the door before crashing his lips against mine. This kiss is different than before. It’s needy. It’s desperate. Just more. And I love it.

  My lips move against Leo’s like they’ve done it a thousand times. My tongue meets his stroke for stroke. His groans echo mine. He threads his fingers through my hair, and mine attempt to grab any part of him that will keep me on earth, for I’m floating away on a high like never before.

  The firmness of Leo’s need for me pushes against my stomach as his pelvis thrusts against me, riding on a wave of lust. I swallow his moan. Searing my skin with his touch, he splays his hand across my belly and pushes it under my shirt before cupping my breast.

  I hiss, and a whimper escapes. The skin beneath his palm has never been touched by anyone before. He pulls my nipple
between his fingers, and my body hums in pleasure.

  Leo removes his lips from mine and takes the bottom hem of my shirt in his hands. “Can I?” he asks breathlessly.

  I’m not sure what he’s asking, but I nod. Whatever it is, the answer is yes.

  He lifts my shirt and bra, and without warning, his tongue flickers against my puckered nipple. I shudder, and my entire body tingles as his hot, wet mouth circles and sucks with sweet abandon.

  I cry out, my head hitting the door. Leo licks, kisses, and sucks my breasts until I’m so turned on that my body fills with molten lava. Then, he pulls away and drops my shirt. He leans his forehead against mine, and our breaths dance as our breathing calms.

  “I alone have your kisses, and now, I’ve taken second base,” his lips whisper against mine before he steps back.

  Grabbing my hand, he pulls me from the door and opens it wide enough to step out.

  The door closes behind him, and he’s gone, leaving me alone in my room, wondering, What in the hell just happened?

  TEN

  Alma

  The next two days dragged by. I found myself scanning my surroundings every time I was on campus, hoping to see Leo.

  I haven’t heard from him since he left my room after Coney Island. There’s a part of me that’s happy he didn’t go storming off after kissing me, telling me to leave him the fuck alone. There’s another part of me that’s wondering where to go from here.

  We never exchanged numbers, so I’m not surprised he hasn’t called, but he obviously knows where I live. I’m trying not to be upset that he hasn’t stopped by, but I’ve never done any of this before. I’m guessing to guys like Leo, second base isn’t that special but just a casual boob-sucking.