Page 4 of Crash

“Will you two stop acting like a couple of toddlers?” he yells. He manages to shove Luke away, but I don’t let him go.

“You think I went into your room? Prove it,” I taunt.

He turns towards me, and instead of continuing to use Troy as a shield, I walk around him and look him right in the eye. He points his index finger in my face, and I push it away.

“You don’t stick your finger in my face ever, unless you want to lose it.”

“You’re just a ray of sunshine aren’t you, you little thief? My finger in your face is the least of your problems. I’m going to prove it, alright. I’ll ask the hotel to look at their cameras, and when I see you go in my room, I’m pressing charges.”

I hadn’t thought of that when I decided to break into his room. I swallow nervously, and he gives me an evil grin, baring his teeth like the wild animal that he is.

“Let’s go, Luke. You have no proof. All Vivi has to say is that you gave her the key and she brought your tux here for you at your request. You admitted there was nothing else missing. You have no evidence she actually put a stink bomb in your room or ruined your clothes.”

Luke stares at his brother, irritation marring his stupid face.

“Thanks, Troy. Thanks a lot for telling her all of that. You’re aiding and abetting a criminal. Let’s get the hell out of here. And you,” he says turning his green eyes back on me, “stay away from me.”

“That won’t be a problem,” I shoot back. “You’re a human female repellant, and you’re ugly, so staying away from you is not exactly a hardship.”

“But you’re not a female, so I’m a little worried about it, Medusa.”

“She was female, you idiot!” I yell at his retreating back.

With the exception of my parents, everything has been perfect. The ceremony was beautiful and personal, leaving not a dry eye in the church. Everyone always looks at the bride when she enters the church. I disagree. The look on the groom’s face when he first sees his bride is where the story is. Sandy wasn’t even a quarter of the way down the aisle when the groom started to cry. I don’t think he blinked once as she walked to him, and when he spoke his vows, my own tears fell. For a brief moment, I not only believed in love but wanted it.

As I stand to the side at the reception, I steal a peek at my parents, and my hopes are dashed. My father is sitting at the table scowling and my mother looks like she’s only present physically. I shake my head and refuse to focus on them as I hide in this dark corner with the most perfect piece of wedding cake.

I look straight at the bar, and just like every other time, Lucas Clark is looking at me. He’s with two long-legged blondes, holding on to his arms and listening to his every word. I know they must be airheads because there is nothing Luke Clark has to say that’s remotely interesting.

His eyes lock with mine, and I refuse to break contact first. The idiot looked so handsome in the church in his tux, and even now, with his tie off and the top two buttons undone, he’s still the sexiest man here.

There are a few couples still on the dance floor. A slow song plays and when Selena starts to sing,I could fall in love with you, I feel a pang in my chest at the words, knowing I’ll never experience a love like what she’s singing about. Even though I’m in the middle of a staring contest with Luke Clark, I know if I look at the newly married couple, I’ll find them in their own world, their eyes only for each other as they sway to this beautiful song.

Even from where I am, I can see his green eyes. While we hold each other’s stare, his gaze softens, and I can see his body relax. I don’t know how I know this, but he’s listening to the lyrics. When Selena says, I could only wonder how touching you would make me feel, his eyes finally leave mine. But his eyes never leave my body. He looks me up and down and slowly licks his bottom lip. From where I’m standing, I can see his eyes darken.

His eyes are the least of my problems right now because I’ve lost complete control of my body. I don’t know when it happened, but I’ve stopped breathing as my heart practically beats out of my chest. I feel light, as if I’m floating outside of myself. And just like I know he is listening to the lyrics of the song, I know he’s feeling the exact same way. I take an involuntary step forward, toward him. I see the exact moment when he holds his breath as he waits for my next move, but the moment is lost.

Blonde number one pulls on his sleeve, and as quickly as it appeared, the moment is gone. His eyes leave mine as he turns to the woman next to him. I regain my breath and my heart rate returns to normal.

When he looks at me again, the animosity is back.

He bends down and whispers something in the blonde’s ear, and she looks up at him as she bats her eyelashes. Pretending to be chivalrous, he pulls out chairs for them. He kisses both of their hands, and I feel my stomach fall at the gesture.

He looks at me again, the smugness returning tenfold as he starts walking in my direction. Like the predator he is, his giant paw lands on my cake, he swipes the entire piece, and he shoves the whole thing in his mouth without even missing a step.

“You’re the worst,” I yell after him. He doesn’t even turn around to acknowledge my words. Instead, I stomp to the dessert table and grab another piece, relieved not to have to see this jerk again after today.

CHAPTER 1

LUKE

1.5 YEARS LATER

“Jesus, creator,” I say to my dad. “The mailroom? Really, dad?” I run both hands across my face, exasperated and deflated by my dad’s decree.

“Yes. You’ll start at the bottom and work your way up.” He doesn’t bother to look at me when he says those words. He continues to type something on his computer, and I’m left stunned. “It’s not just the mailroom you’ll responsible for. The receptionist will also be reporting to you. All lower-level staff, you’ll be responsible for, Lucas.” He finally finishes typing and looks at me. His sharp brown eyes take in my appearance, and even without him uttering a single word about how I’m dressed, I know he’s displeased.

I don’t know why he would be. Fridays are casual days at the office, and my blue jeans and long-sleeved tee are acceptable. So what if my jeans are so distressed he can see the hairs on my legs? And the pocket on my shirt might also be torn.

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