Beautifully Broken Page 5

  I shake my head. Rex grabs a bottle of Zephyrhills for himself then closes the door. He twists the cap off and takes a sip. Once satisfied, he puts the cap back on and sets the bottle on the counter. Such a normal act looks inhumanly hot when he does it. Life’s not fair. I clear my throat and avert my eyes to the island, running my hands over the smooth marble.

  “Come on” He leads me out of the kitchen and through what feels like a maze of rooms.

  I take in each breathtaking feature, mesmerized by the beauty of his house. Rose colored Spanish tiles with paw prints embedded in them. Framed oil paintings. Perfect, flawless, dustless armoires and fresh flower displays on end tables. A Victorian style table carved from cherry wood, large enough to seat twenty with leather high back throne-like chairs to match. Each room we pass is connected by a doorway to the next, all seemingly serving the same purpose: sit or stand but let me entertain you. Let me welcome you into my home.

  I stop in the hallway to look at the collage of pictures on the wall. Rex as a baby. Rex and his family in the hospital together. A few of Rex throughout the years. A handful of his parents on luxurious vacations, but only one of the three of them together. Strange. “This place is beautiful.”

  “It’s a house,” he says with zero enthusiasm. His hand settles on my lower back. To my surprise and excitement, I’m okay. The only thing I feel is the fluttering of my heart and the spinning of my head, which is worse than all of my anxiety attacks combined. I don’t want to feel this. I don’t want to like Rex.

  He guides me deeper into the mini mansion. “Come on. You haven't reached the best part yet.”

  We pass the front door and a set of stairs then finally make it to the living room. Of all the rooms we’ve crossed through, this one is the simplest. A large leather sectional with not two but six reclining seats is the focal point of the room. There are two end tables, a coffee table and a bookshelf filled with DVDs, but no TV.

  “You’re gonna love that,” Rex says his gaze dancing to the couch. He opens the drawer in the coffee table nearest the door and pulls out a remote. He pushes a button and the wood paneling wall in front of us slides open, revealing a hidden, monstrous flat screen TV. He then switches remotes, clicks the screen on, then hands me the one that controls the TV. “Find something you’d like to watch. I’ll be right back.”

  I walk to the furthest end of the couch and sit. The leather is soft, swallowing me in cloud-like cushions. I bring my legs up, and the back of the seat reclines. Comfy. I push the red Netflix button and let the default profile load. I haven’t watched Netflix since I moved out of the Harris house my freshman year. Bio-mom couldn’t afford it and I haven’t felt much like watching TV lately. My jaw falls open once the profile loads, there are so many options! New movies. Old movies. Netflix Originals. TV shows. How does anyone choose?

  Five minutes later, Rex comes into the room with a large bowl of popcorn and two waters. He sets the waters on the end table then sits himself at one corner of the couch, leaving enough space to fit a family of five between us. The buttery, salty smell of popcorn makes my stomach growl.

  I scoot closer, noticing a cheeky grin on Rex’s face. I like his smile. It’s playful and sweet with just enough of a smirk that he always looks like his mind is in the gutter. He extends his arm with the bowl so I can grab a handful of kernels, but I’m too far away. I scoot even closer, past the center of the sectional.

  Sneaky bastard’s tricking me into sitting next to him.

  I reach into the bowl and grab a fistful of popcorn, then retract my hand back to my lap. I pick up one kernel and plop it into my mouth. I close my eyes, savoring the salty-sweetness. I can’t remember the last time I had popcorn. When I open my eyes again for another piece Rex is staring at me. I plop another kernel into my mouth. “What?”

  “If those are the noises you make eating popcorn, I can’t imagine—” he cuts himself off, grins, and shakes his head. “Never mind.”

  Rex kept all body parts to himself throughout our movie. He hasn’t made an attempt to put his arm around me or hold my hand. To kiss me or cuddle close. But every now and then I catch him unabashedly watching me instead of the TV.

  “Stop,” I mumble, my smile growing harder to contain. There’s a playful energy building between us, one I wish he’d act on.

  The corner of Rex’s lips twitch as he tries to hold a straight face. “Stop what?”

  “Looking at me. It’s weird.” My heart hammers in my chest, beating against my flesh like a caged animal desperate to get out. I lick my lips. Why? I don’t know. Apparently, my tongue has a mind of its own and wants his attention. Rex’s gaze flickers down to it for a full second then finds my eyes again. He shifts, turning his body towards me, leaning an inch closer.

  I can do this. If he can touch me, he can kiss me. What’s the worst that can happen? I don’t know, a debilitating panic attack where you seize up and die? Meh, I’ll risk it.

  “I can’t help it,” Rex says breaking eye contact to take a sip of his water. “You’re beautiful.”

  Butterflies swarm in my stomach. I don’t know how he’s doing this to me. I feel alive again. Maybe this is why Death didn’t take me. Maybe she knew Life had a plan and something good was coming. Rex could be that something good. I roll my eyes, a nervous laugh escaping me. “Yeah. Okay.”

  Rex leans back against the arm of the couch, his brows knitting together. “Can I ask you something?”

  Oh gosh, this is it. He’s going to ask to kiss me like a true gentleman. Yes! The answer is yes! “Maybe.”

  He chuckles, and the sound sends the butterflies into overdrive. So much flipping and thumping inside me. I can’t take the anticipation anymore. I’m ready.

  “If you could be anything, no worrying about salary or location, what would you be?

  My stomach drops, every butterfly inside dies and falls into a bottomless pit. I fake smile and say, “That’s easy. A librarian.”

  Rex crosses his leg over his knee, hands going behind his head. “No shit. Why?”

  “I don’t know, because I love to read.” I do. The Kindle app on my phone and Amazon’s free books have been a godsend, but I’ll never tell Ms. Cherrybroom that. Falling into someone else’s life, where no matter what they get their happily ever after, usually with a jaw-droppingly hot guy. Yeah, sign me up.

  Rex raises his brows and gives me a pointed look. “I’ve never seen you with a book that wasn’t school related.”

  “Have you been watching me, Mr. Montgomery?”

  He freezes, like a kid caught with his hand in the candy jar. “No. I...uh...I’m just saying. When I see you around campus you never have a book. I mean you always have schoolbooks, but not like fun books. I guess I never pegged you for the reading type.”

  “And what exactly does the reading type look like?”

  6

  Rex

  Foot. Meet. Mouth. If I could facepalm myself right now I would, but then I’d look even more lame than I feel.

  What does the reading type look like?

  Is there even a right way to answer this? I scratch the back of my neck. “Uh… well… umm.... shit. There’s nothing I could say right now that wouldn’t make me sound like a total dick. Is there?”

  Piper smirks. “Nope.”

  Netflix pauses, giving us their famous “Are you there” screen. Piper half-chuckles, apparently finding its question funny, then crosses her long legs under her. “I started reading because my bio-mom said girls like me didn’t need to be smart. All I needed was a pretty mouth and a thin body. Then guys would pay to make my life easy. Being the brat I was, I read as many books as I could just to spite her.”

  Seriously? Who tells their daughter that? Little girls should be raised to believe they’re princesses. They should be spoiled rotten with impeccable manners and taught that they are capable of anything. Reminded everyday of their self-worth. My future daughter will be given the world one day. “Your mother sounds like a piece of work.”r />
  Piper snort-laughs, a shadow falling across her face as she looks down at her hands. “You don’t know the half of it.”

  I nudge her shoulder with mine. “Well, I think you’ll make the cutest librarian.”

  She smirks. Her smiles while brief are like opals—beautiful, rare, and worth cherishing. I don’t know why, but I’m excited that I keep causing them. “I can see you now with a messy bun surrounded by books. You’d be just like Belle only more hardcore.”

  “Who?”

  Piper’s joking. She has to be. I can’t think of I girl I know who hasn’t seen Beauty and the Beast, especially since they made that live action one a few summers ago. “Belle? From Beauty and the Beast.”

  Piper shakes her head. “Wait, wasn’t that the movie the chick who played Hermione Granger was in a few years ago? Emma something?”

  “Oh my god. You’ve got to be kidding me. You’ve never seen it? Tell me you’ve seen it.”

  She shrugs, a smile playing on her lips.

  “It’s a Disney classic. Have you seen any of the princess movies?”

  “You obviously have.”

  Piper has no idea. I’ve seen everything Disney’s made, even the black and white movies that weren’t animated. Can’t say I liked those as much, but I’ve still seen them. “My nanny growing up, Gretchen, was obsessed with all things Disney. Every Halloween when she took me trick or treating, she’d dress up as one of the princesses. Pretty sure I can quote every line Aladdin says in the first movie.” Probably the second one too, but she doesn’t need to know how much of a closet nerd I am.

  “Gretchen sounds amazing.”

  There’s a longing in her voice I can relate to. Piper’s relationship with her mom sounds just as fucked up as mine. People think because my Dad’s famous that I have this perfect life. More money than God. Two doting parents. Vacations on yachts and exotic islands. They couldn’t be more wrong.

  “She is, but she wasn’t my mom. For years I hated Gretchen. I thought if I made her life a living hell she’d quit and Mom would come home. But she never did. Gretchen was too stubborn and Mom was too busy with Dad and his career.”

  I’d made Gretchen’s life unnecessarily hard, but like a true mother she stuck it out. Showed me that no matter what she would love me and be there, unlike my real mother. Even now she still calls me once a week, just to see how I’m doing. My Mom texts me about once a month. Boring. Stupid GIFs. They are as impersonal as an emailed birthday card.

  And yes, Mother has sent me those too.

  Piper grows quiet and stares at the TV. She looks lost, struggling with a faraway thought deep in her mind. I rub my finger down her nose, light as a feather, earning yet another small smile. “What’s going through that pretty little mind of yours?”

  Piper shakes her head. “Nothing really. I guess I was just thinking that we have something in common. Your mother was never around. She abandoned you in the literal sense of the word, whereas mine was there for a decent portion of my childhood but never gave a crap about me. And then she went to jail.” She giggles and holds a hand up. “High five for mommy issues.”

  Our hands slap together. I’m not sure why we’re celebrating our shitty childhoods, but Piper’s laughing again. She slips her bottom lip between her teeth. I watch it slide out, a thin trail of saliva glistening in the light. She has to be doing it on purpose. There’s no way she doesn’t realize that it turns me on, making me want to suck on that lip and kiss her. I know I said I wouldn’t touch her, but fuck it.

  I lean in too quickly. Or perhaps I bobbed and she weaved. Whatever the case our foreheads slam together in the most awkward, uncoordinated, non-kiss in the history of kissing.

  “Ouch,” she whispers, her hand rubbing the sore spot.

  I’m beyond embarrassed. I wasn’t even this lame when I was twelve. I need to get Piper to think about something other than that failed attempt at a kiss. I stand and walk to the armoire by the window.

  “Where are you going?” she asks, a hint of fear in her eyes.

  I open the wooden doors and search our DVD collection. We have hundreds of them. All arranged alphabetically, so finding the one I’m looking for is easy. I could load the Disney+ app, but there’s something satisfying about holding a DVD. I grab it and walk over to the TV; it has a built-in disc reader. I open the case and slide the disc in. “We are going to watch the original Beauty and the Beast and then maybe the live action. If you’re up for it.”

  “Shut up,” she says, her lips curving in playful irritation.

  “Get ready to have your mind blown, my little librarian.”

  Piper reaches beside her and chucks a decorative pillow at me. I instinctively block and it falls at my feet. “You’re gonna wish you had that to drown out my awful singing.”

  Thirty minutes into the first movie Piper’s fallen asleep. She’s not in my lap, but her pillow touches my leg. A small win for such a guarded girl. I get up, careful not to disturb her, and go outside to check on the party. It’s dead. The music’s stopped. Keg’s empty. Trash is overflowing with plastic cups. Everyone’s gone except for a couple guys passed out on the lounge chairs.

  I look at the clock on the wall by the outdoor shower on the side of the pool house. One-thirty. It was only eleven when Piper and I went inside. Where did the time go? I yawn, the night finally catching up to me.

  I toss a towel over Logan, one of the guys passed out on the patio, and jump when the pool house door creeps open. I look over my shoulder to see Cooper and Sarah sneaking out. They freeze like a deer in headlights when they realize they aren’t alone.

  Looks like her ego’s all better.

  Cooper rubs the back of his neck, probably embarrassed to be caught mid walk of shame. “Sorry, man, I guess we fell asleep in there.”

  Sarah gives Cooper a quick kiss on the cheek then waves goodbye. We both watch as she stumbles around the sleeping drunks and out the gate. She probably shouldn’t be driving but I’m not about to invite her to stay lest it sends mixed signals.

  “No problem.” I tell Cooper. “You can crash here for the night if you want.”

  “Nah, my mom will kill me. I’m supposed to be the good kid,” he says with a sad smile. “Have you seen Piper?”

  “Yeah.” I hitch my thumb behind me. “She’s asleep on the couch. Want me to get her?”

  Cooper’s eyes widen. “No shit? Can I see?” He follows me back into the house and to the living room. Piper’s still asleep, softly snoring right where I left her. It’s not a big deal, but the way Cooper’s looking at her, all wide eyed and proud like a new dad, something’s up. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

  I cross my arms, peeking around him to see what’s wrong. Everything’s fine. Piper’s out cold, her chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. “What?”

  “She almost never sleeps.”

  “You’re joking, right?”

  He shakes his head. “Nah. She’ll close her eyes when she thinks I’m watching, but I can always tell when she’s faking it. I think I’ve caught Piper really sleeping once in the last six months. Most nights her alarms go off every twenty minutes because she’s afraid to dream.”

  I can’t begin to imagine what insomnia must be like, even if it is by choice. I love sleeping. I’d sleep until noon everyday if my body would let me. Unfortunately, my training schedule has me up around five, even on the days when I don’t have school or practice. “How do you know all this?”

  “We share a bed at home. When she doesn’t sleep, I don’t sleep.” Cooper studies my face. Lord only knows what he sees. Confusion? Worry? Frustration? Jealousy? He raises a brow and chuckles. “We’re just friends, dude.”

  Fuck. Am I that obvious? I need to get myself in check. I like Piper, a lot. But I don’t need her or anyone else thinking I’m a jealous prick. Even though I am…jealous. “Why doesn’t she sleep?”

  Cooper crosses the room and grabs a blanket out of the basket in the corner, then lays it over Piper. �
�Night terrors. She would get them when we were kids, but they’ve gotten worse this year.”

  “Any idea why?”

  “Mmm…” Cooper pauses, a frown falling on his face. “That’s her story to tell, not mine.” He shifts on his feet. “Can she crash here tonight? I don’t want to wake her and Logan’s asleep outside anyway.”

  “Of course.”

  “Thanks, man. Just give me a call in the morning whenever Piper wakes up. I’ll come get her.”

  That won’t be necessary, but I smile and nod just the same. I’m gonna spend the day with Piper, show her a good time and work on breaking down her walls. The fact that she’s got a troubled past draws me to her even more.

  She’s real.

  She’s broken.

  She’s just like me.

  I wake with a start to a high-pitched shriek. I jump out of bed and run downstairs to see what’s going on. In hindsight, I probably should have thrown a pair of shorts over my boxers, but I wasn’t thinking about how Piper might react to seeing me almost naked. My only thought was to get downstairs as fast as possible and murder whoever was hurting her.

  Piper tosses and turns on the living room couch. She’s still asleep, screaming at someone in her dream “No! Stop! Please!’

  I run over and kneel beside her. If this is what Piper goes through every time she closes her eyes, I’d fight sleep too. I only hope this is some terrible nightmare and not a memory coming back to haunt her. I set my hand on her shoulder. She’s burning up, sweat clinging to her long sleeved shirt. “Hey. Hey, it’s okay.”

  Piper opens her eyes. She looks around, her gaze bouncing from one thing to the next until finally settling on my face. When she doesn’t say anything, I ask, “Do you want a glass of water?”