Dirty Little Mistake (Dirty #2) Read online

  It’s not really that I don’t know who your father was, Brenna. It’s that he didn’t want you.

  Tears pricked at my eyes.

  “You’re not her, you know that right?” Risa’s gentle question cut through the hard memory.

  I wasn’t surprised she was able to read me so easily. She didn’t know all the details of my past, but she knew enough to judge where my mind had gone.

  “But what if I am?” I countered.

  “Why don’t you just tell Balls-For-Brains and let him decide if he wants to be involved?”

  “And if he says no? What if she started out just like this?”

  ”Then choose option B,” my roommate suggested.

  “Which is?”

  “Make him want it. Make him want you. Seduce him.”

  “The fetus and I think we already covered that.”

  Risa shook her head. “Eight-shots-of-tequila-easy does not equal a seduction.”

  “I’m terrified to ask what you have in mind.”

  “Don’t be. We are going to come at Balls-For-Brains so hard he won’t know what hit him.”

  I stood up abruptly. “I’m going for a walk.”

  “Now?”

  I sighed. “I just need time to think.”

  I grabbed my bathrobe, tossed it over my pajamas, and headed out the door.

  Chapter Two

  Ridley

  My day started with a thousand tiny, angry fairies jingling their bells in my ears.

  “Go the fuck away,” I grumbled.

  The jingling got louder.

  “Stop that, you fucking fairies!”

  A muffled laugh was all the warning I had.

  Shit.

  I flipped over and slid onto my bedroom floor with a thump, opening my eyes with just enough time to see my cousin slap his balls down onto my pillow.

  “Ian!” I hollered. “What the fuck are you doing in here? It’s two in the fucking morning!”

  Ian laughed even harder and didn’t bother to pull his unnaturally smooth ass off my bed.

  “Rent,” he announced.

  “At two a.m.?”

  Ian lifted a plastic bag in the air and dropped it right beside my head. The jingling of my dreams suddenly made more sense.

  I groaned. “Is that five hundred dollars in quarters? Please tell me it’s not.”

  “It’s not.”

  “Thank God.”

  “It’s three hundred in quarters, twenty in nickels, a few loose dimes and a shitload of pennies.”

  “Am I ever going to get the full amount?”

  Ian shrugged. “Used up all my singles at the strip club. By the way…If you’re having a dream about fucking fairies, it may be time to reassess your life. Wardrobe too.”

  “You’re a homophobic asshole, you know that right?”

  Ian shot me a wounded look. “I am not. Two chicks getting it on does it for me same as it does for the next guy.”

  “A misogynist asshole then,” I corrected himself.

  “That’s offensive, Rid,” Ian said. “I love women. Outside. Inside. Riding my big, fat - ”

  I cut him off. “I get it!”

  He finished anyway. “Cock.”

  “Ian.”

  “Yeah, bro?”

  “Misogynist or not, homophobe or not…You’re still an idiot. Can you get your bare ass off my pillowcase now please?”

  “That’s what she said.”

  “You seriously don’t get that expression, do you? It has to be a double ent - ” I stopped mid-sentence and shook my head.

  There was zero point in trying to explain subtlety to a guy who thought a good-morning teabag was an appropriate wakeup call.

  “Never mind,” I muttered. “You can go now.”

  “I need a favor.”

  “Of course you do.”

  “There’s a girl in my room,” Ian told me.

  “So? Group sex and kissing cousins aren’t my thing. Call a chat line.”

  Ian ignored me and went on as if I hadn’t spoken. “Problem is, I can’t remember her name.”

  “At least you’re consistent.”

  He grinned, either not noticing or not giving a shit about my sarcasm.

  Probably the latter, I thought.

  “I need you to rifle through her purse.”

  “No.”

  “C’mon, man.,” he pleaded. “Just sift through the tampons and find me the driver’s license.”

  “Hell, no.”

  “She specifically asked me to call out her name.”

  “I’m not going through some girl’s purse. Call her Jennifer.”

  “You’re a real buzzkill, Ridley,” Ian complained.

  “At this moment, I’m a cock-blocking buzzkill,” I corrected.

  “You used to be cool,” Ian grumbled. “You used to be the guy I looked up to most.”

  “No, Ian. I used to be a complete ass. The guy you looked up to is a long-gone douchebag.”

  “I miss that douchebag.”

  I lost my patience. “You know what being him got me? A job I can never leave in this shitty town because I still can’t get a passport for another five years. A shitty house where I had to take in a shitty boarder just to make my shitty mortgage payments. Oh, and that shitty boarder is currently paying me in shitty fucking quarters and owes me ten months of back-rent from the last shitty house we lived in.”

  “Hey!”

  “Is any of that untrue?”

  “This house isn’t that shitty.”

  “You’re a special kind of asshole.”

  “You realize you’re the reason I’m not ten inches deep, right at this moment?” Ian deflected.

  “And you realize you’re the reason girls think all guys are complete tools, right?” I replied. “And also the reason I’m gonna have to burn my bed sheets.”

  Ian finally removed his ass cheeks from the pillow and pulled up his pants.

  “Guys like me are the only reason guys like you ever get any action,” he said.

  “How do you figure?”

  Ian cracked his knuckles. “They come to us for the hot, kinky shit. The risk. Eventually they figure out we’re all balls and no brains and they want commitment we just can’t give ‘em. So they come to guys like you.”

  “You’re oh-so-thoughtful.”

  “I know.” Ian gave me an expectant nod. “Well?”

  I sighed loudly.

  ***

  Two minutes later, I was dumping the contents of the poor, unsuspecting girl’s unreasonably large purse onto the table while Ian stood guard. He held himself in a football-esque position that might’ve been comical if it wasn’t the middle of the night.

  “What’re you gonna do if she comes around that corner? Tackle her?” I asked as I tossed aside a stack of crumpled receipts.

  Ian laughed. “If I have to.”

  “Where the hell does she think you are anyway?”

  “Bathroom.”

  “For twenty minutes?”

  “So?”

  “That doesn’t ruin the mood?”

  He shrugged. “Who cares? Hey, Rid…”

  “What?”

  “You know those chicks who live next door?”

  I paused for probably a second too long before I was able to force myself to laugh. “What about them?”

  “I can see into their window.”

  I didn’t even want to look.

  For weeks – since the terrible moment when I’d caught her running from Ian’s room – I’d been playing it safe, avoiding the dark-haired hot-mess next door. Yeah, part of it was because I was pissed off. I’d been naïve enough to believe we made some kind of a connection.

  The look of shame on her face as she bolted away, wrapped in nothing but a sheet and her red face, told me otherwise. I’d been happily sidestepping the trouble I knew went along with her ever since. In fact, I’d barely caught more than the curve of her perfect ass as it disappeared into her house.

  Damned i
f I wanted to see more now. With Ian grinning the way he was and the open interest on his face, though…I just couldn’t fucking help it.

  My eyes lifted to the window and landed on her.

  A surge of something – I wasn’t sure if it was anger, or frustration, or something less tangible – coursed through me. It was the same emotion I’d felt every time I’d thought about her for the last month and a half. Each time, I’d shoved it aside and forced myself to think about something else instead. Now I couldn’t.

  Goddamn it.

  Then her face tipped toward the window and the harsh feeling slipped.

  Vaguely, I was aware of things other than Brenna Cooper. Like that fact that their kitchen was an exact match to ours. Or that a beaded curtain hung in the doorway that I knew led to the living room.

  Mostly, though, all I saw was her. Even from this distance away and the two whole houses between us, I could easily recall the brief, intense longing I’d felt for her a month earlier.

  Creamy skin and curved cheeks. Lips made for kissing. Hair thick and rich and smooth like silk. Perfect for spreading out on pillows.

  On my pillow.

  In my hands.

  Making a curtain across my face.

  Ian’s voice cut through my little fantasy. “They’re sitting pretty damned close together. If we wait five minutes, maybe the one with the big tits will slip the skinny one the tongue.”

  He lifted his hand for a high five and I slapped it away forcefully.

  “What’s your problem?” he asked.

  Was he serious? His face said he was.

  “You have no recollection of Brenna and our party, do you?”

  He shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe. Should I?”

  “Just leave those girls the fuck alone,” I growled.

  His forehead creased. “Whoa. Rid. Man, are you okay?”

  “Fine,” I said through my teeth.

  “Because I could swear that you’re just about to bust a vein in your forehead.”

  “I’m fine,” I insisted. “Just stay the hell away from them.”

  “Wait. Are you tapping one of ‘em? Or are you tapping both of ‘em?”

  I sighed. “No. I’m not tapping both of them.”

  “Uh, Ridley? I don’t know how to break it to you, man, but you’re being hella sensitive about some girls you – apparently – aren’t boning.”

  “Yeah, I’m Mr. Sensitivity, all right,” I grumbled sarcastically. “Did it occur to you I just don’t want you fucking with our neighbours?”

  “Fucking with?” he replied emphatically.

  “Jesus, Ian. Grow up. I’d prefer to keep things friendly.” I paused to take a breath, worried that I was protesting a little too much.

  Ian’s eyes widened and for a long second, I thought maybe I had given myself away.

  Why the hell is he choosing this moment to actually notice something other than himself?

  The last thing I wanted was for Ian to find out how I felt. I’d never live it down. But he just chuckled and grinned broadly.

  “I want to keep things friendly too,” he quipped. “Really friendly.”

  “Christ. You can’t even keep the current girls in your life straight.” I reached into the pile on the table, snapped up the driver’s license, and then slammed it down in front of him. “Speaking of which. Funny story. The one in your bed this moment does happen to be named Jennifer. And speaking of beds…Can I go back to mine now?”

  Ian laughed. “Sure. Just don’t forget I left my mark there, too.”

  “Fuck you,” I said cheerily.

  He laughed harder. “Oh. One more favor? When I’m done with Jennifer, can I take your truck to give her a ride home?”

  “Where’s your car?”

  “Outta gas.”

  “Of course it is.”

  “You could just lend me twenty bucks,” Ian offered.

  With a disgusted grimace, I stormed down the hall, grabbed my shoes from the closet. No way in hell was sleep coming back to me now. So I prepared myself for a middle-of-the-night run instead.

  Chapter Three

  Ridley

  My feet hit the pavement, smacking it rhythmically.

  Usually, each thud of my rubber-soled shoes pounding against the ground had a positive effect. It drew my heart rate up and drove my emotions back a little further, easing the tension in my body and my mind. At that moment, it wasn’t working.

  I pressed harder, willing myself to feel less.

  The thump-pause-thump of my steps became a steady thump-thump-thump. I sucked in breath after breath, relishing the way the air burned through my lungs.

  My pace increased even more, making one step melt straight into the next.

  Th-th-thuuump.

  Blood pulsed through my body at double time and at last the roughness inside me began to dissipate.

  I pushed my body to its limit, and I kept going until every muscle ached and I had no choice but to slow my feet and come to a near stop.

  I paced on the path, staring up at the stars as I waited for my breathing to normalize.

  Just as it did, a poorly disguised sob carried through the air.

  I glanced up and down the path and saw no one. I took a step forward. The muffled sound came again.

  “Hello?” I called softly.

  There was no reply. I took a step in the direction from which I thought I heard the cry in the first place.

  “Is someone there?”

  There was a pause before the soft reply. “No.”

  I recognized the feminine voice immediately and it made my heart trip over its next beat.

  Turn around and walk away, urged a voice in my head.

  My body didn’t listen. Her name popped out of my mouth automatically instead.

  “Brenna?”

  There was a long pause, and for a second I thought maybe I was going crazy. Then her cautious answer carried through the bushes, punctuated by a hiccough.

  “Yes?”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m f-f-fine,” she stuttered.

  “It’s Ridley.”

  “Okay.”

  “From next door,” I clarified.

  “I know who you are.”

  “You want to talk?”

  “No.”

  I needed to walk away. Almost as badly as I needed to stay. I took a step closer to the bushes. I couldn’t see a damned thing.

  “Are you hiding in there?”

  “No. I don’t know. Sort of.”

  “You want me to go away?”

  I didn’t know if I wanted her to say yes or no, but I was damned sure that either way, I couldn’t leave her sitting there in the dark crying.

  When she replied, it was in a tone that might’ve been more convincing if it wasn’t so small and broken-sounding. “Yes. I want you to go away.”

  “I’m coming in anyway.”

  I pushed my way through the bushes, wondering why the hell I was doing it. She told me to go. Gave me my out.

  I moved forward again and was rewarded with a solid tree branch in the face.

  Where is she?

  “Marco?” I called.

  I bit back a holler as I stumbled away from the branch but found myself trapped by a bramble bush. I yanked myself out of it, tearing my t-shirt and my skin in the process, and getting my shorts stuck on the thorns instead. I gritted my teeth. I tried to maneuver my way completely free only to get my foot stuck in a root.

  “Fuuuuuuuu - ” I yelled.

  My drawn out swear word was cut short as I fell face first into a pile of bark mulch.

  Soft hands closed over my arms. I let Brenna pull me to my feet and guide me away from the floral onslaught. She was dressed in pajamas and she looked vulnerable in a way that made my heart lurch.

  “Polo.” Her voice was as soft as her skin.

  She guided me to a worn-down tree stump, sat me down, and then knelt beside me. She picked a few pieces of leaf and wood from my cheeks.
r />   “Did you burn down a rain forest in your previous life, or what?”

  “Hardly.”

  “Then why does the plant-life seem to have such a hate-on for you?”

  I leaned in and whispered, “I’m not sure. I’m afraid to make an assumption in case it’s wrong and they attack me again.”

  I watched the corners of her eyes crinkle up in amusement and her lips purse temptingly while she tried to suppress a giggle.

  I nudged her knee with mine. “It’s okay to laugh at my expense.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Aren’t I so kind?” I winked.

  She continued to pluck bits of bark mulch and twigs from my face. I allowed myself a brief moment of indulgence as she did it. Each time her hand came close to my nose, I caught a whiff of her light, buttery – and oddly sexy – scent.

  Breakfast, I thought absently. She smells like the world’s best breakfast. Pancakes and syrup and whipped cream.

  It only took a few seconds, though, before it all started to feel too good. Blood rushed from every part of my body to the part of my body and I had to pull away.

  I shuffled over on the stump a little, but it was too small to put any useful kind of space between us. I was still hyper-aware of how close she was and I was torn between standing up and running away to persevere my sanity and turning and devouring her body to sate my libido. I was leaning heavily toward the latter.

  “Ridley?”

  My name on her lips didn’t help.

  I took a breath. “Brenna?”

  “What are you doing out here?” she asked.

  “What are you doing out here?” I countered.

  “I asked you first.”

  I smiled. “Yeah, but I was jogging along the path in plain sight. You’re the one skulking in the dark. Creepy has to yield to non-creepy.”

  In response, I heard a click, and the small clearing where we sat was illuminated by the soft glow of a flashlight.

  “Now it’s not creepy,” she told me.

  “Oh, it’s not?” I teased. “Sitting out here alone with a flashlight?”

  “I’m not alone!” she protested.

  I looked around pointedly. “You’re not?”

  “Not anymore,” she amended.