Wrecked Read online

  He squinted. “I don’t see anything. There’s nothing there.”

  God. This guy might have a stunning face and a great body but his eyesight is terrible.

  Groaning in frustration, I shook my finger at the cat. “Look again. It’s right next to that bush.” As soon as I finished my sentence, the cat hopped into the bush and disappeared along with any evidence proving that I wasn’t a crazy person who saw imaginary cats. That little bastard.

  “You’re crazy. You know that?” he yelled. “Crazy.” Those accusatory gray eyes pierced deep into mine, sending an unwelcome flutter through my belly.

  “I’m not crazy,” I cried. “I know what I saw. I swear it was right there. And don’t call me crazy.”

  He shook his head. “You almost got us both killed, flailing around like some kind of idiot. That was probably the least helpful thing you could’ve done. Did you want us to die?”

  A wave of embarrassment and annoyance washed over me as I threw my hands up. “I was drowning, dude. What did you expect?”

  Tattoos and Muscles sucked in a deep breath, his chest rising. The intensity in his eyes seemed to dissipate. “Do you know how dangerous it is to be out here alone? Do you know how cold the water is?” he asked, as if I was a two-year-old.

  Yeah, we were both in it, remember? God, this guy’s an idiot. All brawn, no brain.

  It took too much effort to be a smartass though and my sides hurt too much. “Yes I know how cold the water is,” I said, controlling the urge to be snarky toward the man who just saved my life. “I didn’t mean to go in. I fell.”

  “No one’s around at this time, students haven’t arrived yet, the ground is slippery. You’ve gotta be some kind of special to be fooling around here by yourself. Ya know if I hadn’t been jogging past at that moment . . .” Mid-sentence, he narrowed his eyes at me, a startling look of realization crossing his face. “Wait. Was that . . . was that . . . Were you trying to commit suicide? Are you depressed or something?”

  “No! I just—” I thought about mentioning the cat again, but decided that was a lost cause. “I just lost my balance, that’s all . . .”

  He studied me a bit longer, as if considering if I was lying to him or not. I didn’t have the energy to pretend I was okay, so he would just have to take my word for it. “What were you doing on the bridge?”

  Oh, you know. Just hanging out, playing with the fish, reading my dad’s suicide note. The usual.

  “I was enjoying the view.” As I got to my feet, my wet clothes dripped onto the icy gravel. Tattoos and Muscles—T&M—eyed me up and down carefully. He was watching me like I was going to jump back into the lake at any second. “I’m not going to jump in again. Chill out.”

  He straightened from the rock he was sitting on and approached me. I took a step back afraid he took offense to the unintentional pun I made about “chilling out”. He violently rubbed his hands together then grabbed a handful of my jacket.

  “What are you doing?”

  I tried to take another step back but he held firm. He was right in front of me and I looked up at him, heart pounding. My eyes flickered to his lips. I was suddenly aware of the acute fluttering effect he had on my nerves when in such close proximity.

  He twisted the front of my jacket, wringing out a splash of water.

  “We need to get ourselves somewhere warm, before we freeze to death,” he said, his tone softening. He continued to wring out my jacket, first the front, then the back and sleeves. Then he went to work on himself, squeezing the icy lake water from his sweatshirt and sweatpants.

  I nodded in agreement then took a few steps towards the direction of campus. I couldn’t wait to get back to my room—to forget this day ever happened.

  “Hey, where are you going?” he snapped.

  A gust of wind blew across my face as I answered. “D-D-Dorm.”

  “Fuck the dorms, you’ll be frozen stiff by the time you get there. My place is just past that trail.” He pointed to a jogging trail leading into the forest. “Let’s go there and get you warmed up first. Get us both warmed up.”

  As much as I hated to admit it, he was right. If I wanted to go back to my room, I’d have to walk halfway across campus. My clothes would probably become ice armor by the time I got there.

  I thought a moment about how I knew nothing about this guy and was going over to his place. Ordinarily I’d be cautious, but these were unusual circumstances. This was a matter of life and death—literally. Besides, T&M didn’t seem dangerous; he’d just saved my life. If anything he probably thought I was the unstable one.

  Deciding to follow his suggestion, I tried to walk over to him but faltered when the cramp returned.

  He sighed, his breath steaming up the air. He came over to me and stopped. The next thing I knew, he was turned around and kneeling in front of me. For some reason, the sight of him in that position made my pulse skip a beat.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “It’s called a piggyback ride. C’mon, we don’t have all day.”

  “I can walk just fine,” I shot back, annoyed by his condescending tone.

  “No you can’t. Don’t be a brat, hop on before we both freeze to death.”

  I opened my mouth to protest but closed it when another gust of wind hit my face like an icy baseball bat. Knowing he was right, I begrudgingly mounted him, feeling my chest press against the hardness of his back as I wrapped my arms and legs around his torso. His body exuded enormous heat—probably because he had been running not long ago—and it permeated the layers of wet cotton separating us. The sensation was warm and comforting making my pulse beat a steady staccato in my ears.

  I didn’t have the will to protest, especially considering how comfortable the ride was, so we kept each other warm as we walked through the trail.

  Five minutes later, my cramp had gone away and we arrived at a brick apartment complex. He’d been right: his place was much closer than the dorms. It was one of those off-campus student apartments. They weren’t officially owned by the college, but a lot of the upperclassmen stayed in them, and they were usually much nicer than the on-campus dorms.

  After walking up the steps to the second floor with me on his back, he set me down in front of apartment “2E”. We went inside and he closed the door behind us. My shivering stopped almost immediately. I was so grateful the apartment was much warmer than outside. I released a deep breath, relieved I was no longer in danger of freezing to death.

  “You’re wet,” he said. “Wait here.”

  He disappeared into another room while I awkwardly stood near his door, water dripping on the carpet. Not knowing what else to do, I surveyed the surroundings, noticing the tidy kitchen and an old brown couch positioned in front of a small TV. It was surprisingly neat for a guy’s place. I was expecting empty beer cans, posters of half-naked swimsuit models, and maybe a bong or two—the typical college guy setup.

  He returned with a few pieces of neatly folded clothing and a towel. I expected him to be in a new change of clothes but he was still in his drenched sweats.

  T&M offered me the clothes. “Sorry, but this is all I have. I don’t exactly keep women’s clothes around.” He pointed past the couch. “Bathroom’s around the corner.”

  “What about you?” I asked, eyeing his hair and clothes dripping on the carpet.

  “I’ll be fine for a bit longer, go on . . .”

  “Are you sure? You can go first. It’s your place after all.”

  The edges of his lips curved upward. It was the first time I’d seen him smile and the look of him with wet hair and a boyish grin sent tingles down my back. “I appreciate the concern but I’ll be fine. Go on, warm up. I’m gonna change out of these clothes while you’re in there.”

  “Okay.” I gratefully took the items he gave me and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. The inside matched the neat efficiency of the rest of the apartment and smelled faintly of disinfectant. Setting the clothes on the counter, I
looked at myself in the mirror.

  Wow, I look like a mess.

  There were bits of algae and ice caught in my hair. I was suddenly feeling self-conscious about my appearance, when I normally wouldn’t be. The inappropriateness of the concern given the circumstances kind of pissed me off. I’d almost died and here I was fretting about how I must’ve looked to T&M. What’s gotten into me?

  Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I turned on the shower, and steam slowly filled the room. I removed my boots and socks then peeled off my wet clothes that had been clinging to me like a heavy blanket. I placed the items on top of the toilet but when I tried to step into the shower, I accidentally knocked a wet sock into the nearby trash bin. Grumbling in annoyance, I reached into the trash and fished the polka-dotted sock out along with a wad of tissues clinging to it. When I took a closer look, I noticed a used condom crumpled up among the tissues.

  Ew.

  Scrunching my face, I gingerly pinched off the undesirables and dropped them back into their home in the waste bin. I spotted at least two more condoms poking out from the pile of tissues. Apparently this guy either had a lot of sex or he didn’t take out his trash often. The unusual neatness of his apartment suggested it wasn’t the latter.

  Figures, a hot guy like him would be getting a lot of action.

  I stepped into the shower and let the heat of the water wash away the pinpricks beneath my skin. T&M—or Tim as I decided to refer to him for simplicity—clearly lived a spartan lifestyle. One bottle of shampoo and one bottle of body wash stood next to each other in the shower cubby. They almost looked lonely. I considered using the loofah that hung over the showerhead, but when I imagined him lathering up the creases of his abs and his junk in the front with it, I decided against it.

  Just warm up and dry off Lorrie, no distractions. Just as if it’s a quick rinse before sex . . .

  I sighed. What a great return to campus. It was just supposed to be uneventful semester; one that was going to help me return to a normal life. One without people dying. But before it even began, I almost died myself. Now I was showering in some strange guy’s apartment who probably thought I was depressed and suicidal.

  Unfortunately, he wasn’t too far from the truth. Being depressed was a shitty place to be and telling others about it only fed the condition, making it worse. It was like rolling an impossibly large stone up a hill and if you asked for help, the extra hands got in the way more than they helped, pushing the stone in all sorts of directions until you realize that you’d have been better off pushing it alone. But you know you can’t do it by yourself. The only solution then was to not roll it at all. Just walk away, pretend it wasn’t there, that there was no point to moving it to the top of the hill in the first place. And that left you feeling numb—which wasn’t great but at least it wasn’t bad. Feeling numb was at least better than feeling depressed.

  I turned the water off, stepped out of the shower, and dried myself with the towel he’d given me. I took a closer look at the clothes: there was a large black US Air Force t-shirt and a pair of jeans. I put them on and laughed when I examined myself in the mirror—the clothes were huge, making me look comically small in them. I had to hold the jeans up with my hand otherwise they’d fall down. At least the bagginess of the shirt would help hide the fact that I was no longer wearing a bra.

  After ensuring I looked presentable—at least as presentable as possible in baggy clothes and without makeup—I gathered my wet clothes in my arms and opened the bathroom door, preparing to thank Tim for his hospitality. When I stepped into the living room, my jaw dropped at the sight of him naked.

  “Oh, I’m sorry!” I quickly turned away but not before the sight of him was seared into my memory. Images of carved muscles and exotic tattoos danced across my mind.

  “Wow, that was quick. I thought you’d be in there longer.” I heard him laugh and the subsequent thud of his drenched sweats being thrown into a corner hamper. “You can turn around. I’m not naked, ya know. Unless you consider being shirtless as naked.”

  I turned around and noticed he had a white towel around his waist. His torso was still fully bare though. Tattoos ran along the side of his chest and extended down his arm. They were mostly a mix of tribal designs but one tattoo stood out for me. A picture of a large hammer was boldly etched on his upper arm. An unwelcome desire flittered in my stomach as I imagined running my fingertips over the inked lines.

  I wasn’t opposed to seeing him shirtless at all. Not. At. All.

  I forced myself to make eye contact with him, but was surprised to find him not doing the same. His eyes were wide, and they were roaming down and up my freshly showered body.

  When his eyes finally met mine, his lips curved wickedly. “You clean up well.”

  My cheeks flushed. “Thanks,” I replied, slightly uncomfortable. “I feel a lot better without all that lake gunk on me. I really appreciate the clothes, although they might be a little big for me.” I gestured to the jeans that were threatening to fall down my hips.

  He looked me over again, dark eyes subtly lingering at certain parts: thighs, chest, lips. “No, you look good—real good.” His hand gestured to the couch. “Have a seat. I’ll get you some warm tea and a belt. I can get you back to your place after I wash up.”

  He grabbed my wet clothes from me and set them down on the kitchen counter while I took a seat on his couch. I thought it’d be a relief to sit down and relax but I found myself tense and restless, wondering who this guy was and what I’d gotten myself into by agreeing to come to his place.

  He went into the kitchen and brought me a cup of tea. It smelled fragrant and spicy and the hot mug felt good in my hands, calming my nerves temporarily. I sipped slowly, enjoying the fluid warming up my chest as he went into his bedroom to search for a belt. Moments later, he returned.

  “Thank you so much,” I said as he handed me the belt and sat down on the edge of the coffee table inches away from me.

  He, in his shirtless glory, carefully watched me bring the cup of tea to my lips. I brought the edge to my mouth but didn’t drink, too distracted by the desire to touch my lips against the soft skin of those hard pecs right in front of me. I flicked my gaze to his to avoid staring at his chest. The concerned way he studied me with those dark irises matching the color of his damp hair was making me squirm in my seat. Not to mention the peripheral view of that towel around his waist was approaching scandalous. He didn’t cross his legs like I would if I were wearing a skirt and I fought the urge to snag a glance down at that distinctly male area. But it was hard to resist. Was this what it was like to be on the other end of someone trying to cop a peek up your skirt?

  “How’s the tea?”

  His voice interrupted my thoughts and I hurriedly swallowed a big gulp that burned my throat going down. “Very good, thanks,” I choked. “I feel bad you had to go to so much trouble to make it though. Sorry for being such a burden.”

  “. . . Polite too.” He grinned. “Don’t worry about it. It was no trouble at all.” His demeanor was almost the opposite of what it had been at the lake—it was relaxed and warm now. But then again so was mine. The feeling of almost dying must be wearing off for both of us.

  “Are you going to have some yourself?” I asked, uncomfortable with how he was just sitting there. Right there. Half naked in front of me with a ‘V’ shaped muscle around his pelvis tempting my eyes to look down to where the slanted lines met. Wasn’t he going to take his shower?

  “Probably in a bit.”

  Seeing him in no hurry to leave, I wracked my brain for a conversation topic. “So . . .” I looked down at the shirt I was wearing and pinched the lettering to try to end the silence. “Are you in the Air Force?”

  He paused for a second longer than I was expecting. “No, I’m just a student. Senior, actually. You go to school here too?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, sophomore.”

  “Cool. So why did you come to campus so early?”

  “I thought it�
��d be good to have some time by myself to prepare for the semester. You know, mentally prepare and all that.”

  He nodded. “Alone time, yeah. Helps to work things out on your own sometimes. People can be stressful, especially at this school where people like to gossip. I swear it’s like every student’s minor here.”

  I wondered if his comment was specifically directed toward me and my circumstances. Did he know who I was and my reputation? “Yeah, I’m not too interested in rumors. They’re often wrong anyway.” I shifted my legs and happened to briefly brush against his. I felt my nipples tighten from the unintentional intimate contact.

  His eyes narrowed and he glanced at the offending leg. He looked at me for a while, apparently deep in thought. When his eyes glanced down at my chest, I saw an intense flicker in those dark irises—or was it a spark? “Haven’t met anyone here who doesn’t like gossip,” he said smoothly. “You do know you’re at Arrowhart right? Gossip is big here. It’s only normal that you’d be interested.”

  “Yeah, I know,” I replied. And boy did I know. “But maybe I’m not normal.”

  The smile he gave had an edge to it that made me uncomfortable and aroused at the same time. “I’d say so as well. Seeing imaginary cats and falling into frozen lakes isn’t exactly normal,” he teased, before his voice lowered intimately. “But then again, normal’s boring.”

  A heated ache moved through me. Was it my imagination or was he flirting with me? It didn’t seem like he realized who I was. I noticed again how unusually neat the place was. Did he have a girlfriend that cleaned for him? Or his mom? “So do you live here by yourself?” My voice came out huskier than I intended and I cleared my throat, hoping he didn’t notice.

  He smiled. “Yeah, I get plenty of alone time here.”

  I found that difficult to believe given his devilish good-looks. It would be easier for me to believe if he’d said he had a ticket system for girls lining up outside his apartment door. Maybe even a BYOC policy—Bring Your Own Condom. That could explain the contents of his bathroom trash.

  I forced another gulp down my throat, uncomfortable with how being so near him made me restless. “What do you like to do in your alone time?”