Mess Me Up (Bear Bottom Guardians MC 1)

The next time I saw her, she was wearing workout leggings again, this time with fuckin’ unicorns on them.

“I know.” She sighed. “I was really looking forward to that, too. Oh well.”

She peeked back behind the wall she’d been hiding behind, and I walked farther into her place, hoping that my boots weren’t dirty and leaving black smudges on her white tiled floor.

Either Izzy liked white, or she hadn’t decorated at all since she’d moved in.

Either way, the place was so white and clean, it almost felt sterile.

“What’s with all the white?” I called out, heading to her bowl of Lucky Charms.

They looked really good, so I picked up the bowl and took a bite.

I moaned.

I hadn’t had Lucky Charms in so freakin’ long that they tasted even better than I remembered.

Just the right amount of sogginess to them, too.

Meaning they hadn’t been sitting there all that long, and Izzy had poured herself a bowl of them knowing damn well and good that she wouldn’t be able to finish them before I got there.

I took another bite and leaned my hips against the counter, startled by the fact that I could see straight into Iz’s bedroom.

And I could see her naked back—sans bra—staring at her closet with quiet contemplation.

I looked back down at the bowl and tried not to look up again.

Oh, I failed, but I did try.

But then my phone rang, saving me from doing anything more stupid than what I’d already done.

I grimaced when I saw the screen’s readout, and immediately silenced it.

“Who was that?”

I looked up to find Izzy hurrying out of the room, pulling her shirt down over her slightly rounded belly.

Izzy wasn’t a size two.

She was curvy, beautiful and everything I never knew I needed.

She had delicious thighs, a full ass, and tits for days. On the shorter side, you’d never be able to tell that she walked as much as she did.

She was in such great freakin’ shape that she could likely keep up with me and my appetites—that appetite growing day by day until I was worried it’d consume me.

Seeing her now, smiling at me while I ate her cereal, I found it hard to breathe.

“My grandmother,” I murmured, not seeing the point in lying.

She frowned. “Your grandmother? Why didn’t you answer it?”

I took another bite before answering.

“My grandmother loved Tyler. When she found out what I did, she was disappointed in me. To the point where she never let me hear the end of it.” I paused. “And I just was so fucking tired of it. I heard it from everyone. I’d lost nearly every part of my support system within days, and the one person I thought I was always able to count on wouldn’t fucking stop. So, I did what I had to do.”

“You stopped allowing her to be involved in your life,” she said, sounding understanding. “That’s something I still haven’t been able to do with my parents. They fired me before…well, you know. And though they’re still pissed off at me, they call me every day just to tell me what a disappointment I am.”

When I’d heard that Izzy was fired from her job by her parents because she wanted to help take care of Matias, I’d been disgusted.

What kind of parents could do that to their child?

But then I remembered my own parents and realized that not all parents were great—mine certainly weren’t.

Mine weren’t all that bad. They were just beggars.

All through my childhood, they were the parents that didn’t go to anything. Not one single football practice or football game. No pep rallies or track meets. No graduation. Hell, when I signed with Notre Dame, they didn’t come to the press conference that was held afterward. But then I was the number four draft pick, and all of a sudden, they were doting parents. They cared.

They cared so much that they begged me for money every chance they got, and eventually I gave it to them. But, once they’d gotten the house on the lake and two brand new cars, I felt like my obligation to them was over.

So, I started to put distance between me and them.

But, they’d gotten what they wanted, their bills almost paid for, and I hadn’t seen nor heard from them since.

Only my grandmother had really cared about me. She was the one who had shown up to all of those events, at least she did until Tara came into my life and I lost Tyler’s friendship. When the dust had settled, in the end, my grandmother had chosen Tyler.

Not that I blamed her.

“I really don’t want to talk about it,” I admitted. “It’s been four years since I disappointed her so badly. I’d rather continue on like nothing’s changed.”

Like my whole world hadn’t imploded from the inside out.

I felt her hand brush down my arm, leaving goosebumps in its path.