Pretty Broken Hearts: A Pretty Broken Standalone Read online

  “You’re not crazy.” Her scowl softened into sympathy. “You’re human like the rest of us. I’m the one who’s sorry. Sometimes I forget how hard things can be for you.” She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and squeezed. “I love you bunches, pickle. Don’t forget that.”

  “I love you, too.” Her hug eased my anxiety. “I don’t like that girl.”

  “Me neither, but you can’t be mean to the customers. You don’t have to like them, just take their orders and then their money. Especially their money.” She grinned and shoved my shoulder.

  “I feel like an ass. I’m not cut out for this.” Days like this made me long for the solitude of my laboratory. As much as I wanted to help Jo and Dad, I couldn’t wait to get back. I shook my head. “Rhett probably thinks I’m a total bitch.”

  Her eyes sparkled with something I couldn’t quite define. “Oh, I think Rhett is fine with it.”

  Chapter Four

  Rhett

  “Well, the help is certainly rude here.” Hayden took a sniff of her tea then crinkled her nose. “And this is disgusting.” She pushed the cup and saucer to the side. “Let’s go somewhere else.”

  Hayden had been a lot more agreeable when she was naked and underneath me. Now, in the light of day with the edges of a hangover creeping into my head, she was less of a seductress and more of a pain in the ass. The sex had been average, and afterward, I’d felt lonelier than I had in the beginning. Then there was the feeling that I’d been unfaithful to Amy. I could hardly look at Hayden without guilt. I’d wanted to leave her house the second we’d finished fucking, but it had seemed wrong to walk out like that, so I’d invited her to breakfast.

  “I know a great place on Third Street. Let’s go there,” Hayden said. When I didn’t respond right away, she snapped her fingers in front of my face. “Hey. Earth to Rhett.”

  The swinging doors to the kitchen opened, and Bronte followed her sister into the breakfast area. Her eyes met mine. She looked down at the floor then back up at me. I didn’t know this girl, but I felt more of a connection with her than the one I’d had my dick in for half the night.

  “No.” I cleared my throat. “I mean, I’m listening. Let me finish my coffee, and I’ll take you somewhere else.”

  “Why don’t you get it to go?” Hayden followed my gaze to Bronte. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t keep my attention from wandering in her direction. “Is there something going on between you and that waitress?”

  “What?” I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable and embarrassed at being caught.

  Hayden’s expression tightened. She dropped a hand to my arm. “Look. You and I are obviously on different pages. I’m just going to go.” Her face fell like she was going to cry. Guilt washed over me. I had no idea how to deal with the situation. I’d been with Amy since college then married the rest of my adulthood. If this was the single life, I wanted nothing to do with it.

  “Hold up.” I slid across the bench to follow her. “The least I can do is get you a cab.”

  “It’s fine.” She turned and shook her head. “This isn’t your fault. I got taken in by your bedroom eyes and sad story. I’m such a sucker,” she muttered. “You’re obviously not over your wife yet.”

  At the mention of Amy, a sharp pain sliced through my heart. Even after two years, her loss still hurt. The six patrons of the bistro turned to watch the exhibition with mouths opened and eyebrows raised. What would Amy make of this mess? I had a feeling she’d laugh and shake her head and make me smile with one of her wisecracks.

  Hayden tried to pull the door open although the sign clearly read push. After a few seconds of clanging, I pushed the door for her. We walked to the curb in silence. I lifted a hand, waving down the first available taxi. I helped her inside and gave the driver a twenty. She stared straight ahead, arms crossed over her chest. My chest felt heavy, filled with lead, burdened by the ghosts of my past.

  When I returned to the shop, the booth was cleared and my coffee had been transferred to my usual table. Bronte came out from the kitchen and made a straight line toward me. “I owe you and your girlfriend an apology. I’m so sorry,” she said. Without a stitch of makeup, her clear skin glowed in the mid-morning light. “Everything I think just comes right out of my mouth before I can stop it. I don’t have—what do you call it?” She scrunched her forehead before snapping her fingers. “A verbal filter. Mine’s missing.”

  “It’s okay.” My appetite had disappeared. “She’s not my girlfriend.” A dull throbbing formed between my temples. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “It’s not okay. I’m a shitty waitress.” She sank into the chair opposite me and tucked her order pad into the pocket of her apron. “Jo would have fired me a long time ago if I wasn’t her sister.”

  “I doubt that.” The need to comfort her overwhelmed me. Instead, I fought to remain impassive. I didn’t want to feel anything but numb. “How much do I owe you?”

  “Twelve-fifty.” She bit her bottom lip with even, white teeth while I fished in my wallet for some cash. “You make me nervous.”

  “Me? Why?” I pressed the money into her hand, startled by her confession.

  “You’re hot.” A crimson flush raced up her neck. She groaned and closed her eyes. “See? There I go again. I just can’t stop myself.”

  Despite the throbbing between my temples and the fiasco of Hayden, I felt a chuckle rattle my chest. “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

  “You’ll have to excuse me. I’m going to go die now.” She fled through the swinging doors.

  I watched her backside disappear before heading out to the street. Warm sunshine flooded the sidewalk. It was the time of year where the nights were freezing cold and the days pleasantly hot. I shoved both hands into my pants pockets and rattled the coins there. After a minute of indecision, I decided to walk back to my apartment. Fresh air and exercise always made me feel better. Before I reached the end of the street, my phone rang with a call from Carter.

  “What’s up?” Having been friends for so long, we skipped the normal pleasantries and went straight to the important stuff.

  “I got laid last night. Best fuck I’ve ever had.” Carter liked to brag about his conquests, especially in light of my celibacy. “Legs like a giraffe. Tits the size of grapefruit. How about you?”

  “Fuck off.” I paused at the crosswalk long enough to let a car turn the corner then proceeded down Turner Avenue.

  “Well? Did you or did you not shag that waitress?” Carter’s voice teemed with impatience. I grinned, enjoying his irritation. “If you blew her off, I will hunt you down and kick your ass.”

  “Simmer down. Mission accomplished.” He hooted in the background. I shook my head at his enthusiasm. “We went for breakfast. I just put her in a cab. And for the record, it didn’t end well. I blame you.”

  “Oh, Jesus. Breakfast?” I heard his eyes rolling through the phone. “Haven’t you learned anything from me? No breakfast. No phone call the next day. No promises. You should have set ground rules right upfront. Just do the deed and go your separate ways.”

  “I’m no good at this.” The earlier feeling of unease began to creep back. The thought of fucking a woman and walking away made my insides shrivel. Unlike Carter, I wasn’t built that way. Not anymore. Not after Amy.

  “We’ll try again. There’s a band playing at The Doorknob on Plum Street.”

  “No. I’ve got shit to do tonight.” It was a total lie, but I needed time to process what I’d done.

  “Hey, don’t overanalyze it.” His tone turned sympathetic. “The important thing here is that you got off the bench and onto the playing field. It’ll get easier. I promise.”

  I didn’t believe him. As I stood in the middle of my apartment, everything reminded me of Amy. When I moved to Laurel Falls three months ago, I’d brought her with me, like she was still alive and living here. She’d chosen the furniture after our wedding, and I’d kept it, painting the apartment walls her favorite sh
ade of blue. Her clothes filled half the closet. Perfume and cosmetics littered the vanity in our bedroom. The last grocery list she’d written was stuck to the refrigerator with a flower magnet, her magnet. She was everywhere.

  Framed photos of us hung on the walls. I stared at our wedding photo into Amy’s eyes. “Don’t judge,” I muttered to the photo. “This is your fault. You left me here, and I have no idea how to deal with this shit.”

  I couldn’t keep living like this. I had one foot in the past, one foot in the present. The dichotomy was tearing me apart, but I didn’t know how to move on. I wasn’t sure I wanted to.

  Chapter Five

  Bronte

  The next day, I worked my final shift at Joe’s Java Junction. My leave of absence had ended. I needed to get back to my job at Vale Chemical. Although I enjoyed spending time with Dad and Jo, they treated me like I was ten years old instead of twenty-eight. Being around them triggered all the bad habits I’d managed to overcome by living on my own. I was no longer the chubby, borderline autistic child of the past. I had a career, a nice place to live, a bright future, and I was eager to return to my life.

  On Sundays, the shop was only open from eight to noon. We hadn’t had a customer since ten o’clock, so I busied myself with polishing the counters and tabletops. At about eleven-thirty, Jo nudged my elbow and nodded to the display window. “What do you think he’s doing?”

  Rhett stood on the sidewalk. Sunlight sparked in his hair, firing the red highlights. A frown marred his brow. He started to walk through the door then turned and strode away out of sight. Ten seconds later he returned. Our eyes met through the window. One corner of his mouth turned up in a sheepish grin. I waved.

  “He’s a little weird, isn’t he?” I asked.

  “A little, but who cares? Any guy that hot can be as weird as he wants.” Jo returned her attention to cleaning the cappuccino machine. “Don’t look now, but I think he’s coming in.”

  My heart skipped a beat when the bell rang over the door, and Rhett stepped inside. The shop was empty except for us. Rhett wiped his palms over the thighs of his jeans and cleared his throat. Jo disappeared into the kitchen, leaving me alone with my crush.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “Hello.” I didn’t know what else to say, so I stared back at him.

  “I was just passing by and saw you were open.” The tip of his tongue slid over the fullness of his lower lip. “You aren’t going to yell at me for coming here on the wrong day, are you?”

  A smile stretched across my face. “Well, no. I’ll let it slide this time.” Knowing this was my last day eased some of my anxiety, allowing me to relax. “You haven’t been very good at following the rules lately.”

  “I’m not sure what the rules are anymore.” His smile slipped a little. “Anyway, I’m not going to ask you out again, because honestly, I don’t think I can take the rejection. But I was hoping maybe we could be friends.”

  Normal friendships had evaded me for my entire life. I’d given up on them long ago, turning to my studies and work for entertainment. Whenever I saw a group of girls heading to one of the clubs or shopping together, I felt a pang of envy. The idea of a man for a friend was so out of the realm of possibility that it had never even entered my thoughts.

  “Say yes.” Jo’s voice floated out from the kitchen.

  Embarrassment flooded my cheeks with heat. “Okay.” I laid the polishing rag on the counter and wiped my hands with a corner of my apron. “I guess we can.”

  “Great.” Some of the tension in his shoulders ebbed away. “Maybe we could do lunch?”

  “Sure. I’d like that.” The thought of spending time with him, one on one, made my insides quake. I looked up, into his eyes. They were soft, more gray than blue, and filled with uncertainty. What had happened to undermine his self-confidence? By the cut of his clothes and his body language, he was used to being in command, but today he seemed tentative. I resisted the urge to brush his hair away from his forehead, to comfort him. I understood insecurity. I’d fought with it my entire life.

  “Okay. Well, I’ll let you get to work.” He backed toward the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “No,” I replied without thinking about how it sounded.

  He stopped, eyebrows lifting. “No?”

  “I mean, no, you won’t see me tomorrow. This is my last day here. I’m going back to my real job.” I grabbed a pen and scribbled my phone number and address on one of the shop business cards. “But we can still do lunch. Don’t call me. Send a text. Here.”

  The tips of his fingers grazed mine as he took the card. A pulse of energy zipped up my arm, pebbling my skin along the way. He stared at the print and turned the card over a couple of times before sliding it into his back pocket. “Excellent,” he said, and with a nod, disappeared through the door.

  Chapter Six

  Rhett

  Outside the Vale Chemical building, I stared at the business card in my hand. Under my opposite arm, I carried a bag of takeout—burgers, fries, and two milkshakes from my favorite joint. The address of the nondescript, four-story limestone matched the information she’d scribbled in a precise slanting script. It was only a block from my office. I’d passed it every day on my way to and from work, never giving it more than a cursory glance. I’d been making the trek across town to see her when she’d been next door all along.

  “She’s expecting you,” the security guard said when I gave him my name. He handed me a lanyard with a guest pass hanging at the end. “Down the hall to the elevators, second floor, third door on the right.” He pressed a button to open the security door. The glass doors slid open with a quiet whoosh.

  The leather soles of my shoes squeaked on the spotless white linoleum as I walked the hallway. My heart pounded in my chest throughout the short elevator ride. The car stopped on the second floor. I brushed sweating palms over my thighs. Although this wasn’t a date, it felt like one.

  The plaque above the third door on the right read Dr. Bronte Hollander. Doctor? I drew in a deep breath before knocking.

  “Come in,” Bronte called from the other side.

  I opened the door and had to blink twice to comprehend what I was seeing. She stood in the center of a large room, dressed in a white lab coat. The windowless room was spotless and organized, without a scrap of paper out of place. Stainless-steel counters held glass beakers and Bunsen burners. Mathematical formulas were scrawled across an enormous whiteboard.

  Bronte held a test tube up to one of the fluorescent overhead lights, squinting at the contents. It took my brain a few seconds to wrap around the sight of her in such a different environment, but it was definitely Bronte. Her long, red hair was piled on top her head in a messy bun. Black-rimmed librarian glasses perched on the tip of her upturned nose. I’d always thought her attractive, but she was sexy as fuck in that getup.

  “Hi.” Her eyes seemed brighter than usual. “You found the address okay?”

  “I did. My office is just down the street.” I set the food on the desk and walked toward her. Beneath her lab coat, she wore a faded gray Metallica concert T-shirt. Bare skin peeked through the ripped knees of her jeans. I swallowed, wanting to run my tongue over those slivers of pale flesh.

  “Really? Where do you work?” She stripped off her latex gloves and tossed them into a stainless-steel receptacle. “I don’t know what you do.”

  “I’m Vice President of Accounting for Ascension Corporation,” I said.

  Her eyes widened. “You like numbers. I knew it.”

  “I never really thought of it like that, but yeah, I guess I do.”

  “Me too. Numbers are awesome. They’re safe, predictable.”

  “And that’s important to you?” I studied her heart-shaped face, searching for clues into her mind.

  “Yes. I don’t like surprises. I like knowing what’s going to happen before it happens. Numbers always act the same way. Every time.”

  “And when I showed up at the coffee shop
with Hayden, that was unpredictable, wasn’t it?”

  A flush brightened her cheeks, endearing her to me even more. I found her inability to hide her feelings refreshing. “Yes, but it’s okay. I don’t know why I overreacted like that. I think being back at home with Dad and Jo caused me to relapse a little.” At my questioning gaze, she shrugged. “I have anxieties.”

  “Like what?” The deepening color of her blush indicated her growing embarrassment. Without thinking, I dropped an arm around her shoulders and tucked her into my side. She fit perfectly there. The scent of her shampoo teased my nose; she smelled amazing. The warmth of her body heated mine.

  “Oh, all kinds of things. Most of the time I can control them, but whenever I’m nervous or out of my element, it’s more difficult. The coffee shop seems to bring it out of me.” She shifted away from me, and I dropped my arm. “I think it’s because Dad and Jo treat me like I’m still a kid.”

  “But you’re a doctor?” I kept pressing for more information, my curiosity growing with each passing minute.

  “Yes. I’ve got a doctorate in chemical engineering and mathematical science. It sounds more impressive than it is.”

  She paused at the sink to wash her hands. I set the food on a table near the door. Something was different about her, something I couldn’t quite put a finger on. She seemed relaxed, at home in her environment. Her confidence opened a new door between us. Would she be that confident in bed? To ease the pressure inside my slacks, I tried to think about something other than her perky tits underneath that surprising T-shirt. Distracting myself, I followed her lead and washed my hands. When I turned around, she’d spread our lunch across her desk, each item perfectly parallel and perpendicular to its neighbor.

  “I hope I got your order right. A bacon cheeseburger with the ketchup on the top bun, mustard on the bottom. No pickle or onion.” She’d been very explicit in her order.