Breaking Shaun (14 page)

Is this motherfucker really about to leave me here?

I scowled at Marcus, but he just smiled and patted me on the shoulder.

“You sure you don’t need some company?” Ms. Horndog asked Marcus.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Marcus shot me one last grin and turned to leave.

Sighing, I faced the bar, and I rested my elbows on it right before the bartender brought me another shot. I quickly threw it back and asked for a beer before she left.

“Do I still make you uncomfortable?” that woman whispered close to my ear.

Leaning away from her, I cut my eyes in her direction. “Definitely.”

Her breath smelled like liquor, and she was clearly very drunk. She started laughing as she leaned against me. I wasn’t even slightly attracted to her. As her laughing died down, her eyes focused on someone on the other side of the bar.

“Hey. Keep an eye on my girl for a minute, would ya?” she asked before grabbing her purse off the bar and walking away.

The empty space she’d left behind allowed me to fully inspect her quiet friend. She was now sitting on a stool with a beer in her hand. She had straight brown hair that went down to her waist, and she was wearing a light blue dress that made her look like a librarian. She was beautiful in a skinny girl-next-door kind of way. She wore very little makeup, but honestly, she didn’t need it. Her eyes were a light brown, and at the moment, they were a little glazed over.

“You’re hammered, aren’t you?” I asked her before taking a swig from my new beer.

She lifted her hand in front of her face and held her thumb and index finger about an inch apart. “Just a little.” She giggled.

Oh, Jesus Christ.
“What the hell are you doing here with that woman anyway?” I turned to rest my hip against the bar.

She tucked some of her hair behind her ear as she cleared her throat. I clearly made her nervous.

“I just moved here, and she’s my stepsister. My mom insisted we spend the day together,” she murmured before taking a small sip of her beer.

“Well, your mom obviously doesn’t know your stepsister is a slut.” I looked across the bar at her stepsister, who was currently rubbing her tits against some guy’s chest.

She started laughing, and her smile instantly lit up her face.

“She is a slut, isn’t she?” she said between laughs.

Yeah, she’s wasted.

I couldn’t help but smile though. Her laugh was infectious.

“So, what brings you out to VA?” I asked her as I moved to sit on the stool beside her.

“My ex,” she mumbled. Her smile instantly fell as she began to pick at the label on her beer bottle.

“My bad. I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

She shrugged. “It’s okay. Shit happens, right?”

I didn’t respond. I just took another sip of my beer, and we sat in silence for a few minutes. I really didn’t feel like babysitting, but I would feel like a douche bag if I left her at the bar alone.

“Oh shit! Shit! Shit!” she said in a loud whisper beside me.

I was just about to make up an excuse to leave when I turned to look at her and my eyebrows furrowed. “You okay over there?”

She scooted closer to the bar. She looked like she was trying to hide behind me as her eyes darted to something on my other side.

Turning to see what she was looking at, I saw a couple had just walked into the VIP area. The guy looked like a football player. They were pretty easy to spot with their gelled hair and polo shirts. On his arm was a tall blonde with a big rack. She was probably the master cheerleader or whatever the fuck it was called. That was when I realized I was probably looking at the girl’s ex and her replacement.

Where the fuck is Ms. Horndog?

I looked across the bar, but the stepsister wasn’t there anymore. I didn’t see her anywhere.
Shit.

“I can’t believe he’s here with her. Oh my God, what should I do?”

I peered down at the girl beside me, and she was staring up at me with wide eyes rimmed with tears.

Fuck.

“Look, you need to walk around this place like you fucking own it. Make him watch
you
. Don’t sit here, hiding. Show him what the fuck he’s missing.”

Her brown eyes were focused on mine, and I saw them light up as I spoke as if what I was saying was actually sinking in.

“I’m sure you hear this all the time, but your eyes are incredible,” she told me with a smile.

What the fuck? Okay, maybe she wasn’t listening.

I couldn’t help but smile. There was just something so cute about her and how fragile she was.

“I do hear it all the time, but that doesn’t mean you can’t tell me again,” I said, winking at her.

She instantly blushed and turned to face her beer. “Will you do something for me?” she murmured as she watched her fingernail scratching at the label on the bottle.

“What is it, Cupcake?”

Her eyes slid to mine as she grinned. “Cupcake?”

I shrugged. “Yeah, you’re small and sweet, like a cupcake.”

She looked surprised, but she didn’t say anything for a few seconds as she contemplated her next move. “Will you…I mean, would you…pretend to be my…pretend to be with me tonight?”

Her face looked so hopeful that I didn’t think I could say no. The last thing I wanted was to get caught up in drama. I had enough drama in my life as it was, but a part of me would enjoy watching Mr. Football get his balls handed to him.

After finishing my beer, I put the empty bottle back down on the bar and stood up. “Let’s do it.”

Cupcake frantically looked between me and the bar and her ex before whispering, “What are you doing?”

“I’m taking my girl downstairs to dance,” I told her as I held my hand out, waiting for her to take it.

She focused on something behind me before she looked back into my eyes and took a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

As we walked through the VIP section and toward the stairs, Cupcake made sure to hold her head up and not look around. I, on the other hand, made sure to make eye contact with her ex. His gaze automatically moved to her and then to our linked hands, and I could see his jaw tighten before his girlfriend demanded his attention.

When we made our way downstairs, I saw Dre dancing—or more like, grinding—in the middle of the dance floor with two women on either side of him. I didn’t see Dank anywhere. As we got downstairs and walked toward the edge of the crowd, I pulled Cupcake’s hand and led her in. She moved her other hand to my bicep as the bodies moved and bounced around us. I stopped when I found an opening, and I turned to face her. She was smiling while watching all the people dancing around us.

Leaning down so that she could hear me, I put my mouth to her ear and said, “Come here, Cupcake.”

Her body tensed, and she gave me a nervous smile. I used our joined hands to spin her around, so her back was against my front.

“Just relax,” I muttered into her ear before releasing her hand and placing both of my hands on her hips.

Keeping my head lowered so that my cheek was resting against the side of her head, I began to guide her hips with the music. Then, she started moving her body on her own.

“That’s right. Just let go,” I told her.

I smiled when she reached an arm up and rested her hand on the back of my neck. She was finally letting loose and enjoying herself.

Our bodies moved to the rhythm of the music, and I felt the bass thumping vibrations through my body as we danced. It felt nice to just be with someone without any motives or goals in sight. I also liked knowing that I might be helping this girl feel better about herself while sticking it to her ex-douche bag.

After a few songs, we were both sweaty from all the body heat around us, and we decided to take a break. I held her hand as we made our way back to the VIP section. Just as we were approaching the top of the stairs, I saw her ex standing there with a beer in his hand, watching us.

“Rachel?” he said as if he were seeing her for the first time.

She stood straight and looked at him. “Nathan,” she deadpanned, seeming completely unaffected by his presence.

Good girl.

His eyes moved to me and took me in before he looked at her again. “Uh…hey. How are you?”

“You know this guy?” I asked like I didn’t already know their history.

“I used to,” she said, continuing to look him in his eyes.

I could tell that shit hurt. He flinched a little, and she took that moment to pull me away from him and toward the bar.

When we got to the bar and out of sight from her ex, she started giggling and clapping her hands. “Oh my God! You have no idea how good that felt! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” she squealed before reaching over and giving me a hug.

I smiled and patted her on the back before waving the bartender over. “Four tequila shots,” I told him before turning to face Cupcake again. “We should celebrate.”

Just as the bartender placed our shot glasses down in front of us, Dre and Dank joined us with their entourage of women. Dre smacked me on the shoulder before ordering more drinks, and Dank was busy with rubbing his hands all over the blonde he’d met at the surf shop.

“Hi, I’m Dre. What’s your name, sweetie?” Dre asked Cupcake as he leaned his hip against the bar beside me.

He was always fucking with me and trying to pick up whatever girl he thought I was trying to get. It had become a competition between the two of us, and I was currently in the lead, of course. Little did he know, I wasn’t interested in getting in this girl’s panties. He probably wouldn’t believe me even if I told him. I rarely gave a woman my attention unless that was my goal.

“Rachel. Nice to meet you,” she greeted him with a warm smile before preparing to take one of the shots sitting in front of us.

I grabbed one and held my glass up in the air to make a toast.

“To Cupcake!” I shouted.

She laughed and clinked her glass against mine, and then we swallowed the tequila.

Her face scrunched up as she sucked on a lime wedge the bartender had given us. Dre must not have been interested enough because he now had his back against the bar with a new woman pressed against his front.

“Let’s take another one!” Cupcake exclaimed over the loud music.

And we did.

A few hours later, Cupcake and I were both shitfaced. For every shot she had taken, I’d taken two. By the time the club was closing, neither of us could walk straight nor say anything without laughing. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been that drunk.

She told me she lived a few blocks from the club, so I offered to walk her home. Apparently, when I got drunk with sweet, soft-spoken women, I became a gentleman.

We laughed and talked during most of the walk, but as we approached the stairs to her building, she grew quiet.

“Do you want to come in? I mean, while you wait for your cab.”

She seemed nervous, but I didn’t pay much attention to the change in her mood.

“Yeah, sure,” I mumbled as I staggered up each step.

When we walked into her apartment, I was surprised by how elegant it was. It looked more like a grown woman’s apartment than a college student’s. Everything was in its place, and all of her things looked fragile and expensive. She went to the kitchen to get us some water, and I plopped down on her fancy white couch.

“Damn, this is comfortable!” I said as I stretched my legs out in front of me.

She came to sit next to me and gave me a glass of water. I drank half of it before thanking her. Then, I put it down next to hers on the glass table in front of us. When I moved to sit back again, she was closer to me. Without warning, she reached her hand out and placed it on my jaw before leaning in and kissing me. I was too surprised to kiss her back, and when she realized I wasn’t, she pulled away and covered her face with her hands.

“I’m so sorry,” she murmured.

Is she crying?
“Are you crying?” I grabbed one of her hands and moved it away from her face. When I saw a stream of tears, I instantly felt bad.

This wasn’t like me. I wasn’t the type of guy who put a female’s feelings before my own, but she just seemed so innocent and vulnerable. So, I did the first thing that came to mind. I kissed her. It wasn’t because I necessarily wanted to kiss her. I just wanted her to stop crying.

We kissed for a while, and when our tongues touched, I felt her gaining confidence. She started to take over, and when she kissed me harder, I went with it. It wouldn’t be the first time I ignored my brain and followed my dick. She moved on top of me and straddled my lap, but I knew it was wrong. Putting my hands on her skinny shoulders, I pushed her back and broke the kiss.

She sat there, panting on top of me, as she gripped my shirt in her hands. “Please. Just fuck me. I don’t need anything else from you. I just want you to help me move on. Please just help me forget him,” she whispered as she studied my face with her lustful drunk stare.

Her lips were swollen from our kiss, and I stared at them for a few seconds while I contemplated what to do next
. She said she doesn’t want anything else from me, but how will she feel in the morning?
I didn’t want to make her hurt more, and I was afraid she’d regret her decision.