Page 1 of Wreck Me

CHAPTERONE

“I’m so sorry, Miss, but I can’t let you check out a library book when you have a dollar twenty-three balance due on your account. The system won’t allow me to override it.”

“I… but, I somehow left my wallet at home…” I frantically murmured to the older gentleman behind the checkout counter as I sifted through my Louis Vuitton bag. A fierce heat coated my cheeks as the embarrassment set in and sweat pooled at my hairline. The eyes of several other library patrons watching—judging—my every move grew heavy on my back. I bit my tongue to keep the tears that flooded my eyes from spilling over.

If my father could see me now, he’d be staring at me with a smug grin on his face, readying himself to gloat to whoever would listen, saying I’d come crawling back to my trust fund any day now. Since the moment I had left the house with my luggage in tow and hopped into my Mercedes S Class—which, unfortunately, he had paid for—I had been the object of his ridicule.

Actually, let's back up.

Since before I was born, I had been the object of his ridicule. His lack of confidence in me was not something he was interested in hiding.

It had been a long couple of years at college, and despite being excruciatingly tired of ramen noodles made on a stove that only worked half the time, I had refused to ask for any more help than the agreed-upon amount my mother sent me monthly. We bickered for weeks about how much I should receive and, ultimately; I had won. I would receive monthly deposits to keep my modest one-bedroom apartment’s rent paid and the utilities on. My parents also covered my car insurance and cell phone bills, so my primary responsibilities were food, gas, and anything extra I wanted to buy.

Fourteen hundred dollars.

Some months I had extra to spend, and other months, such as this, my empty wallet was “accidentally” left at home in fear I would spend my last few dollars on something stupid.

Poor little broke rich girl.

God, I still sounded like a snob.

The clearing of a throat snapped me back to reality. “I understand, Miss, I do, but perhaps you can come back later when—”

“Excuse me, sir? I can cover the balance for her.” A man who looked just slightly older than me stepped forward from his place in line with a five-dollar bill in his outstretched hand.

Words escaped me as I stared at this stranger who had just become my library knight in shining armor.

Short chestnut locks fell in front of his deep brown eyes while the rest hung haphazardly, looking like it desperately needed to be brushed. His light gray t-shirt clung to the muscles that were so clearly hidden beneath, looked worn and had pinholes scattered near the collar and hemline. My eyes traveled further to take in the rest of his appearance, and it conflicted me with what to think. He didn’t look dirty, per se, but he looked unkempt. It was hard to tell if he was poor or if he just didn’t care.

And I was judging.I was judging the man who had stepped up to pay my dollar twenty-three balance so I could check out a freaking library book.

Sometimes I really hated the way my parents conditioned me to think.

My mouth hung agape when he turned around and I finally got a good look at his face, not just his profile. His eyes were so dark, they were nearing black. I bit my lip to keep from salivating over his sharp features and the sexy slight bump in his nose as if he had gotten into one too many fistfights. He was everything I dared to dream about, and everything my father would hate. The sort of bad boy slash grungy ‘I don’t give a damn’ vibe he emulated made my heart skip a beat.

Trying my best to hide my idiotic smile, I could barely register a coherent thought as he paid the balance. Thebeepof the machine processing my book’s check out emitted into the air. My smile faded, bursting the lust-filled bubble I was caught in, as he thrust my now checked-out book into my hands and rushed past me to dart out the door.

“I—uh,” I stuttered, my brain catching up to his hasty departure, before I flew toward the door after him. I had to at least thank him, right?

The cool, early-fall air assaulted my senses as I stepped out onto the library's stoop. My library knight had just barely made it to the street corner when I screamed out, “Wait! Stop! Please.”

To my surprise, he heard me and stopped immediately, but didn’t turn around. I moved as quickly as my Jimmy Choo’s would get me to him and nearly collided into his back, my body gaining more momentum than I had expected. With his back still to me, I could see the movement of his chest rising and falling by the way his shoulders slightly rocked, as though he was angry and trying to rein in his temper. Still, he didn’t turn around.

“I—uh,” I stuttered again, finding it hard to formulate the words. “I wanted to say thank you. For paying my balance at the library. I left my wallet at home,” I lied, but I didn’t feel the need to explain the truth. “It must have fallen out of my purse when I sat it down on my entryway table. I should have double checked when I got home earlier, but I was so excited the text had come through from the library saying the book I put on hold was ready. So I just grabbed everything and ran out the door. I didn’t realize my last book was overdue and I would have a balance on my—”

“Do you always ramble when you try to thank someone for a deed that doesn’t deserve praise?” he questioned, his voice dry and petulant. Slowly, he turned his body so he could see me, pinning me in his gaze.

I stared at him with what I could only imagine was a shocked expression. People, especially men, weren’t typically curt with me. My entire life, I’d been treated like a porcelain doll, spoken to like a child, as though I couldn’t understand. Raised in a family where children were to be ‘seen, not heard’, and unfortunately it was something I had grown accustomed to.

The candidness was refreshing.

“Excuse me?” I questioned back, wondering if I had, in fact, heard him correctly.

This time, he turned to face me completely, and I sucked in a breath, overwhelmed by his very presence. “I paid your balance. It’s not a big deal,” he told me with a hint of irritation in his voice.

The entire world faded to black around me. The only thing I could see was him, and the only sound I could hear was the pounding of my heart. “It is a big deal,” I whispered, unable to look away from him. His eyes dipped down to my lips before snapping back to mine.

I was dying to reach out and touch him—his face, his arm, whatever I could.

---