Crazy Stupid Love (Crazy Love #1)(13)

Straightening my jacket, I set off into the darkness, knowing exactly where I am heading. I weave in and out of various headstones, heading towards the back row that sits several hundred feet from the entrance.

When I finally reach my destination, I drop my cigarette, stomping out the cherry with the heel of my boot before taking the final remaining steps towards the large dark headstone in front of me.

Conner Roderick Taylor

January, 3 1994-November 29, 2008

My eyes scan the tombstone for several long seconds, trying to remember his face, his voice; all the things that I feel are slipping away with time.

“Hey, little brother,” I finally manage to say, swallowing down the hard knot in my throat as I reach out and rest my hand on the cold stone.





Chapter Five


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Kimber

“Honestly, honey, I don’t know why you don’t just come home. You don’t belong in Oregon. You belong here, with your family and people who love you.” My mother drones on in my ear as I cross campus, heading to Lovett’s directly from my English Lit class, only half paying attention to what she’s actually saying.

“We’ve been through this. I’m here to stay, at least until I complete my degree. After that, well, I guess I’ll just have to figure it out as I go,” I say, readjusting my bag that hangs heavily on my shoulder.

“That is no plan at all,” she interjects, still not able to support my decisions simply because they are mine and not hers.

“I’m not doing this again, Mother. I’ve gotta get to work. Talk soon, okay,” I say, ignoring her attempt to keep me on the phone as I hit the end call button and slide the device into the front pocket of my jacket.

Of course, I avoid telling her that I’m off work for the next two days and actually just heading over to pick up my paycheck. Cutting her off with an excuse is the only way I can end a conversation with her on a relatively good note.

I hate that it has to be this way. I hate that I can’t share in the joys of my college experience with my own mother. Unfortunately, she’s too controlling to back down, and I am too far gone to cave to the ridiculous demands that I drop my classes and return home to attend the school of their choosing with no say at all over my future.

It takes less than fifteen minutes before I am pushing my way inside the front door of Lovett’s, giving Johnson, the older gentleman who mans the bar in the evening, a nod and small smile before dropping my heavy bag next to the bar and sliding into a vacant stool.

“Need your paycheck?” Johnson asks the moment he approaches me, sliding a glass of water across the bar.

“Please.” I smile, taking a long drink of the cold liquid.

“Here you are, dear.” He returns just seconds later, setting a white sealed envelope in front of me.

I glance up to thank him but immediately freeze when I catch sight of the man who has dominated my thoughts for the past few days, sitting just cattycorner across the bar from me, a glass of golden liquor in front of him.

Decklan.

He meets my gaze almost instantly, causing my stomach to twist and the ground beneath me to shift slightly. What is he doing here?

“Did you have class today?” I hear Johnson’s words, but it takes me several moments to process them enough to form an answer.

“Um...yes, just finished my last class of the day.” I break away from Decklan’s stare to turn my attention back to the gray-haired man in front of me. “Have you been this slow all evening?” I attempt to distract myself from the gray eyes I can still feel burning holes in the side of my face.

“Pretty much.” He shrugs, turning his attention to the front door when two middle-aged men walk in and take a seat on the other side of the bar. “Well, I guess I’ll see you next week then.” He nods before setting off in the direction of the new arrivals.

Before I have time to even process Decklan being here, he appears at my side, pulling the stool out directly to my left before taking a seat.

“Funny seeing you here.” His lips turn up in a one-sided smile while his eyes remain focused forward.

I try not to stare too long at his profile, at the curve of his jaw or the long scar that starts at his temple and then disappears into his thick mess of dark blond hair.

“I work here,” I manage to get out though my voice doesn’t quite portray the sarcasm that I intend for it to.

“But you’re not working tonight?” he asks, spinning his stool towards me, prompting me to turn my head inward to face him.

“I’m not,” I confirm, my heart feeling like it might actually beat through my chest at any moment.

“Let’s get out of here.” His request throws me off guard a bit, and I suck in a shaky inhale.

“And go where?”

“Anywhere you want to go.” He shrugs. “Are you hungry?”

“I could eat,” I answer, even though my appetite checked out of the building about three minutes ago when my eyes landed on the incredible looking man now sitting next to me.

“There’s this amazing little pizza place about ten minutes from here. You in?” He gives me the sexiest grin I have ever seen, and I all but melt right on the spot.

“Um. Well... I...” I stutter out, not sure if I should. I mean, I don’t even know this man.