Scared of Beautiful (Scared #1)(4)

I have to admit, my curiosity piques to discover that underneath that sculpted exterior, he may be a complex creature. “I’m not interested in him at all.” I reply with as much sincerity as I can muster. Truth is, I am not interested in anyone. I’ve had one boyfriend in my life, and relationships are an experience I would not care to relive. She opens her mouth, assumingly to call bullshit, but on a second thought, her jaw snaps back shut. I crash onto my bed and grab my well-weathered copy of Great Expectations and disappear into the familiar story. Though I really can’t explain why, I have the feeling that tomorrow is going to be a better day, after all.





Chapter 2




Jackson

What amazes the hell out of me about this college campus is not the awesome architecture, but the number of slutty women and * guys roaming around. I assume that given the Rhode Island location, a lot of these pretenders are trust fund babies. I really don’t give a damn that they have money, but some of them act like idiots because of it. My first rule for college life: stay away from *s. While sitting in the enormous park that flanks the entrance to the main building, under a tree with the latest edition of Top Gear, I decide this is where I intend to stay when I’m not studying. I also intend to keep my one and a half good friends as they are, and everyone else will be an acquaintance. I have no time for fake bullshit. I say half because I know Jade is my friend and her roommate Maia, well, I think she genuinely dislikes me. Which is awesome, because she’s hot and sweet, and I have no desire to meet someone here at all. So long as she keeps me at arm’s length, it’s all good. Although I can’t help but feel like it might be fun to change her mind.

I flip the magazine shut and stare up at the sky as it shoots off a kaleidoscope of oranges, purples and blues. The nervous habit I have of rubbing my palms together and interlacing my fingers causes me to look down and inspect my hands. My nails, though I attempted to scrub them well, still bear remnants of engine oil and congealed grease. The callouses on my hands remind me of the years I spent ratchet in hand, tightening bolts and clamps. Had I not had the hands of a hardworking man, looking at me you might assume that I was a pretty boy. That’s precisely why my hands are the best part of me.

I reach into my pocket to retrieve my phone. Scrolling through the camera’s images, my fingers stop when I reach a photo of a long-haired blonde and a sweet little girl with olive skin and bouncy light brown curls. I pinch the screen until the blonde woman is completely removed from the image and stare down at the little girl’s magnified face. As I examine every little delicate feature, I notice that when I look into her eyes, they mirror mine exactly. I didn’t tell Jade I found her. I didn’t tell Jade that I spent almost every cent that I earned on private investigators to find her. I didn’t tell my parents either. No one knows, except me. Just like no one knows that one day after a few beers too many, I had dialed the number the investigator gave me and was greeted by the sweetest little voice in the world on the other end. And no one knows that when her mother took the phone from her hand and I called her out on her lie, she gently hung the phone up. No love lost there, I guess.

And then that moment, you know that point when you just have to say “f-uck it!”? I had a moment like that one. I know she’s lying, but the investigator showed me a birth certificate without my name on it. And to think I didn’t follow Jade to Brown because I was waiting in a small time suburb in the hopes that one day she would come back home. I squint as the glaring afternoon sun peeks at me from behind a silver-lined cloud. This is precisely why I have no desire to go near another woman anytime this decade. I know I probably shouldn’t be so bitter; not every girl is Shana, and I am definitely a lot f-ucking smarter than I was back then. No hat, no sex; a simple rule that I could kick myself for not following in high school.

I shake my thoughts away from the negativity that is invading my mind. I’m here for a new start. I hold my hand over the phone, my finger hovering over the menu button wherein the delete function lies. The bouncy curls and bright eyes stare back at me and I close the gallery. I’ll keep the photo. And make sure Jade never sees it. If she knows I found Shana and didn’t tell her, she’d never forgive me. I shove the phone into my pocket, deciding that distraction is my best option. As I make my way to the huge campus library to try to find my textbooks for this semester, the familiar golden brown hair and frame of my half-friend comes into view. I pick up my pace to a casual jog until I catch up to her. Maia has changed into a pair of yoga pants and a razorback tank. She has taken her makeup off and I wonder to myself why she even bothers with that shit to begin with. She’s even more beautiful without it.

“It’s not safe for you to be out here after sun down unescorted!”

My teasing comment causes her to stop and visibly stiffen. I jog up the last few stairs until I’m one step above her. She pulls her hair into a messy bun as she turns her head in my direction.

“Hey!” Her expression is pleasant, and it stuns me.

Maybe she’s not so stone cold after all.

Judging by the way she’s fumbling with the corner of her book bag, she’s nervous as hell around me. I don’t get this chick. I really don’t. I may not be interested in anyone, but I generally have the ability to charm the pants off of anyone who’s unfortunate enough to come near me. But her obvious indifference to me makes me want to ask her what her favorite food, color and movie are.