Fractured Heart: a Fairy Tale Romance (LUV Academy Book 1) Read online

  I feel practically naked as the silk tank top grazes my bare nipples and I’m not wearing panties under the thin shorts. I quickly change into the clothes from last night, uncomfortable lace lingerie and all. I try to ignore the twinges of pain around my ribcage as I dress and the fear in the pit of my stomach as I unlock the door. I make sure my necklace pieces are still in my pocket and give them a squeeze before I exit the safety of the bedroom.

  I’ve learned to sneak past Father’s bedroom on silent feet in the early morning, but the gentle sibilance from the shower easily drowns out my footsteps. I try not to picture Tate lathering up his naked…nope. Not thinking about it.

  I go wake up Charles, but there’s no sign of him on the couch. The blankets are neatly folded on top of the pillow and aside from my lone bottle of painkillers sitting on the coffee table, the apartment looks unlived in.

  I turn back toward the bedroom when a door opens down the hall. JJ!

  I break into a cold sweat. I’ll never make it back to Charles’s room without crashing into his drunk roommate. My only other options are hiding in the kitchen, diving behind the couch, or running out the front door. In my panic, I take a step toward one, then the other, unable to decide, when a voice rings out behind me.

  “Coffee,” Tate mutters, flipping on the living room lights.

  I spin around in relief, but if Tate thinks I’m acting odd, he doesn’t say it. Actually, I don’t think he notices. He’s dressed in sweatpants with the LUV Academy logo on them and a rumpled t-shirt. There’s something adorable about this cozy, comfortable version of Prince Charming that makes my heart melt.

  He lets out a big yawn and tries to rub sleep from his eyes. It doesn’t work. He stumbles toward me like a zombie and I feel a wave of guilt. It’s my fault he’s this tired and the least I can do is get him the coffee he asked for.

  “I’ll make some,” I cry, rushing into the kitchen. There’s a machine that looks like it might be a coffee maker, but I haven’t a clue how to use it. There aren’t any buttons just a tray where the mug is supposed to go. Maybe it’s automatic? I open the nearest cupboard, ignoring the pain in my ribs.

  “Let me.” Tate takes the mug gently out of my hand. He opens a drawer, takes out a coffee pod, and shows me how to start the machine.

  “Do you want me to make you breakfast?” I ask while the coffee maker does its thing.

  Tate shakes his head and inhales deeply as the aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the apartment. “Charles and I have to get to class.”

  “Right…” I nod. I knew that. “I could come with you. I don’t mean to class. I know I can’t go to class! But maybe I’ll…um…go for a walk?”

  Tate glances at the window, where the rain is beating loudly against the window sill. Then turns back to me.

  “You don’t have to go anywhere, Roo Roo,” he says softly. He brushes a strand of my hair behind my ear but when the coffee maker sputters and stops, Tate jerks away from me. He grabs the full mug and takes a large gulp of coffee.

  Then he runs the machine again, presumably for Charles. “I’ll give you my key card.”

  “But you just met me!”

  “I know.” Tate shrugs. “And anyway, JJ will be here.” Like it’s a good thing.

  As if on cue, a door opens down the hall. I can no longer hear the shower running, so I tell myself it must be Charles, but I’m not that lucky.

  JJ wanders out of the hallway, clad in boxers and nothing else. His arms are strong, with defined ridges that curve gently into one another. Across his chest, his wide, round pecs sit proudly. Beneath them, row after row of abdominal muscles stretch and strain against each other with every step he takes. I could watch him walk all day, just gazing upon the hypnotic mass of pure athletic muscle as it moves.

  His strong, square jaw is in desperate need of a shave, but the scruffy look suits him. I barely contain a wistful sigh until he grumbles, and his face contorts into a scowl. He stumbles into the kitchen, clearly tired and even worse—hung over.

  My heart freezes. How could I be admiring his body when he still reeks of beer? And how could I be attracted to him when I made out with both his roommates?

  “I think your girl’s checking me out.” JJ chuckles.

  “I wasn’t. I’m not!” I cry, trying to deny everything all at once.

  My cheeks flush in mortification. It’s bad enough JJ caught me staring. But in front of Tate? What kind of girl does that? Definitely not Tate’s girl. How can I be, after what happened with Charles?

  How can I be anyone’s girl when I can’t even keep my eyes on one man?

  “You’re not Tate’s girl?” JJ asks, his eyes roving pointedly down my body. “Or you weren’t checking me out?”

  I tremble under his gaze and my nipples tighten. I shouldn’t be having this reaction to JJ with Tate right next to me, and the room suddenly feels a whole lot warmer.

  “JJ, just let her be, man.” Tate wraps a protective arm around me and pulls me into his side.

  The contact sends another wave of heat through me and wetness pools between my legs. JJ grins knowingly, almost like he can tell. I squirm. He takes a step toward me and I suddenly can’t breathe. My eyes widen. Is stuff like this normal here?

  I know we’re on a college campus, where parties and hookups are the norm. It’s not that much of a stretch to assume people here have threesomes. Is that why Tate and Charles didn’t bat an eye at what happened last night?

  “I just need to get to the fridge.” JJ chuckles. His eyes twinkle with amusement, almost like he knows exactly what I was thinking.

  I scramble out from under Tate’s arm and move aside so JJ can grab a protein shake from the fridge. His biceps bulge as he pumps his arm, mixing the magical concoction that will bring him back to life. The bottle is transparent, the liquid inside an odd shade of blue. I’ve known Father to cure a hangover with more booze, which makes me wonder…Is there alcohol in there?

  “So, who is she?” he asks, turning to Tate. Halfway through his question, he refocuses on me. “Who are you?”

  His tone is gruff, and I suddenly remember his anger from last night. The way he swore when he crashed into the coffee table, and how it was all my fault. He probably doesn’t even remember, since he doesn’t seem to recall ever meeting me. But what if he does?

  My breath catches in my throat and I reach for my collarbone only to graze bare skin. My heart lurches, and I feel the fractured pieces in my pocket through the fabric of my jeans.

  “Well?” JJ raises a questioning eyebrow at Tate.

  “That’s Roonie. She’s crashing here for a while,” Tate says.

  JJ runs a hand through his hair as he considers Tate’s words for a moment, chewing his lip. “Cool,” he finally says. He sets down the protein shake without taking a drink and smiles.

  In an instant, everything changes. Maybe I’m under his spell or maybe there’s something contagious about his grin. Either way, the tension seeps out of me. I even smile back. I know this doesn’t mean I can trust JJ, especially not when he’s drunk, but for the moment, I feel safe.

  “JJ Campbell,” he introduces himself, holding out his hand.

  “Roonie Hill.” I slide my hand into his.

  He slides his hand over mine gently, his fingers grazing the pulse point on my wrist. My skin prickles and I stare at him, transfixed. Then, he gives my hand a shake and my ribs protest. I try to hide my pained grimace but don’t quite manage it.

  JJ pales. “I fell on you last night. Did I hurt you?”

  Chapter 20

  “I’m fine,” I tell JJ, but he doesn’t seem to hear me.

  “Fuck! I didn’t know you were on the couch. Shit!” He pulls away from me, a look of genuine horror on his face.

  “You didn’t hurt me, JJ!”

  “You screamed.” He shakes his head and his eyes widen. “I fell on you and you screamed.”

  “She was just scared,” Tate says. Then he turns to me, his eyes widening too. “
He didn’t hurt you, did he Roonie? How are your ribs? Are you in pain?”

  “Her ribs?” JJ pales further.

  “I’m fine! I just slipped in the forest.” I try to keep my tone casual like it’s no big deal. “Tate took me to see a doctor and I have painkillers.”

  “Did you take them this morning?” Tate asks.

  I shake my head and he rushes to grab them for me. I try to protest and tell him I can do it. Tate doesn’t listen. He grabs me a bottle of water from the fridge and even goes so far as to open it. He waits until I’ve swallowed both pills and then guides me to the kitchen counter.

  “Sit. I’ll grab you something to eat. You shouldn’t have those on an empty stomach.”

  “I can do it…” I try to protest, but Tate guides me to the bar stool and gives me a stern look. I sit down.

  “I’ll make breakfast,” JJ says. “You’ll be late for class, Tate, and it’s the least I can do.”

  “You don’t have to do that!” I cry. “You guys are letting me stay here. I should be the one making breakfast.”

  “No, you shouldn’t,” JJ and Tate say at the same time.

  “JJ’s a great cook,” Tate adds. “Wait till you try one of his omelets.”

  I want to argue, but the way JJ grins at the mention of his cooking makes me stop. He grabs the mug from the coffeemaker and slides it across the counter. “Here, Roonie. Your coffee’s ready.”

  I shake my head. “Tate made that for Charles.”

  “What did Tate make for me?” Charles crosses the living room to join us.

  “Coffee,” Tate says, then bursts out laughing at Charles’s look of disgust.

  The beast is dressed all in black again this morning: a stylish black dress shirt, a black silk tie, black slacks, and shining black dress shoes. His hair is neatly combed and his beard is meticulously styled; he looks like he’s ready for a formal event, or maybe a funeral. He definitely doesn’t look like he’s going to class with the adorably rumpled, sweatpants and t-shirt Tate.

  “Roonie,” Charles greets me. He stares at me intently for a few seconds, then he seems to forget all about me as he turns to Tate. “Let’s go. I want to stop at Nigel’s on the way.”

  Tate rolls his eyes. “We don’t need to detour all the way to Nigel’s, Charles. There is a coffee shop literally right outside the studio.”

  Charles holds up a dismissive hand. “They won’t steep my tea at precisely two hundred and ten degrees.”

  Sighing, Tate follows Charles to the door. “Have a good day, Roo Roo.” He smiles at me.

  “Oh, um, you too,” I blush and Tate grins. Charles doesn’t say anything, not even a goodbye.

  “Help yourself to anything in the fridge,” Tate adds. “Oh, and here’s my key card.” He reaches into his pocket and tosses it onto the coffee table. “We’ve got rehearsal at two. I’ll text you with the details.”

  “I don’t have a phone.”

  “What?” Tate’s eyes widen. Charles stares at me intently, silently judging me.

  “I…um…dropped it in the forest,” I lie.

  “Oh, Roonie,” Tate says sympathetically. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll sort it out.”

  I flush, hoping he doesn’t plan to search for my nonexistent phone.

  “We’re going to be late,” Charles grumbles. His eyes meet mine, boring into me and suddenly making it hard to breathe. “Bye, Roonie.”

  “Bye.”

  “See you later, Roo Roo,” Tate adds, and then they’re both gone.

  I turn around to face JJ and realize he’s staring at me intently. The kitchen island separates us, but other than that it’s just me and him alone in the apartment. For a second, my body heats, but the feeling is quickly replaced by fear. I know JJ has no reason to hurt me—he hardly even knows me—but then again, I hardly know him.

  “Roonie.” His tone is serious and holds a note of warning.

  “You want me to leave, don’t you?” I try to keep the quiver out of my voice as I stand. “I’ll just go pack my stuff and…” I trail off. I don’t even have any stuff, just the silk pajamas, and those aren’t really mine. If I’m being honest, neither are the clothes on my back. I literally own nothing. Just Mom’s fractured necklace and a twenty-dollar bill.

  “That wasn’t what I was going to say.” JJ rounds the counter, intercepting me.

  “It wasn’t?” I take a nervous step back and JJ quickly backs away, too.

  “I was going to apologize. For last night.”

  “You were?” My eyes widen. “You really don’t have to. This is your apartment. I just—”

  “You’re a guest,” JJ says with finality. His acceptance of me and my staying here floors me. “And I really didn’t know you were sleeping on the couch. That’s not how I usually wake girls up.”

  His suggestive tone makes me wonder how he might want to wake me up. Which of course makes me think of Sleeping Beauty.

  Tonight, a prince awakened me

  With much more than a kiss

  I only get half a verse out before I realize I’m singing. My hand flies to my mouth, like I can somehow stuff those words back in, and a flush creeps across my cheeks.

  “Much more, huh?” JJ winks. His eyes dance. “So, you’ll let me make it up to you? Once you have some of my omelet, you’ll have to forgive me.”

  “It’s okay. I can make breakfast for us.” I jump to my feet.

  “I got this.” JJ grins. “How else am I going to impress you?”

  “Why would you want to impress me?” I ask, eyes wide.

  “I can think of a lot of reasons.” JJ crosses the distance between us. I remember the way Charles grabbed me each time we kissed—the way Tate pulled me into him and teased me with his lips—and I swallow hard. “Let me cook for you, Roonie?”

  His words hardly register but I nod anyway. I would agree to anything JJ asks at this point.

  JJ grins and rounds the counter, leaving me staring at his retreating back. It takes a few seconds for my breathing to return to normal and by the time I slide back onto the bar stool, JJ’s got the entire countertop colonized with a glorious mess of ingredients.

  JJ snatches two eggs from the carton and juggles them for my benefit. I would be terrified of dropping them, but JJ doesn’t seem concerned. It’s clearly all for show because he sets them right back down and turns to the vegetables. Using a knife that is unnecessarily large for the job, JJ expertly slices them, his hands a blur. Isn’t he going to cut himself moving that fast?

  Miraculously, JJ doesn't spill any blood—or any ingredients. He cracks and beats the eggs at breakneck speed. When he dumps everything into the pan and it sizzles, he takes a bow, and I applaud. JJ wasn’t just cooking; he was putting on a performance.

  When he’s done, he plates a dish that rivals both Chez Caviar and Pizza al Volo. He sets it down in front of me with a flourish and reaches for a strand of my hair. I expect him to tuck it behind my ear, the way Charles and Tate did last night, but he gives the strand a gentle tug instead. My stomach does a somersault.

  “What do you think, Roonie?” he asks, his tone seductive. “Did I earn your forgiveness?”

  I nod, mesmerized, as he takes a seat next to me. It’s the same barstool that was occupied by Charles during our first kiss.

  “You’re not going to have any?” I ask, realizing JJ didn’t take a plate of food for himself.

  “Nope. Not hungry.” He gives me a lopsided grin. “I made it for you.”

  His words should warm me, but they make me nervous. I’m sure he’s sobered up enough not to need breakfast, but I’d prefer it if he ate. Instead, he watches me, waiting expectantly for me to try his creation.

  I nervously swallow a forkful. I’m amazed. The eggs are soft and fluffy. Savory juices from the vegetables linger with a perfect balance of salt and spice. It tastes delicious, but what really floors me is that he went to all that effort, just for me.

  “This is amazing, JJ.”

  “Told yo
u it would be.” JJ smirks knowingly. “I know how to please a girl.”

  My cheeks flush at his words, but then he reaches for the protein shake and I feel a wave of fear. What if it's laced with booze?

  With one smooth, fluid motion, JJ pops open the cap and raises the bottle to his lips. I pale. He takes a huge sip, his Adam's apple bobbing, and swallows. A careless blue drop slips from his lips like poison. It trickles down his face and splashes onto his naked chest. With disgust, I watch it slide down one of his pecs.

  When he wipes it away, I tremble, but with fear, not desire. If there’s alcohol in there, I’m in serious trouble. I’m all alone with him in the apartment and I have to get out of here.

  “Are you alright, Roonie?” JJ leans toward me.

  “Fine,” I squeak, suddenly unable to move. I pretend to be enthralled with my breakfast even though each forkful suddenly tastes like sawdust.

  “Want me to get you more coffee?” JJ reaches for my cup and I instinctively jerk away.

  He frowns. For a split second, he watches me, before rounding the counter. As he digs for a coffee pod, I realize that he’s left his shaker next to me without the lid on.

  Quickly, before JJ notices, I grab it and give it a sniff.

  “You can have some if you want,” JJ says. I nearly spill the contents of the drink.

  “No thanks.” I quickly set it down, eyes wide. It smells so odd that I have no way of knowing what’s actually in it. It could have been alcohol, but it could just as easily have been something else.

  JJ joins me at the bar. He reaches for the shake, but he must see something in my expression because he stops. “What?”

  “N-nothing.” I pale further, my gaze glued to his drink.

  “It’s just a protein shake.”

  “Right.” I nod, but I can’t help staring at it like it’s poison.

  “What going on, Roonie?” JJ asks, suddenly all too serious.

  A few minutes pass when neither of us says anything. At first, the sound of the coffee maker fills the room, but even that sputters and stops. The silence grows thick and I get more and more uncomfortable with each passing second.