A Shattered Moment (Fractured Lives 1)

“He’s a bit of a gamer. He is really funny, though, and sweet.”

“Yeah, but a gamer? Like video games, or are we talking dice-rolling fantasy geek?”

“No, not dice games. He’s big into Xbox. Maybe more than the average guy.”

“Um, thanks, but no thanks,” she answered disdainfully, flouncing on her bed.

I was tempted to say more. Really I hadn’t cast Chad in the best light. I could do better, maybe. Glancing at my phone, though, I realized now was not the time. Throwing her a hurried good-bye, I headed out to meet Bentley.

Bentley pulled up in front of my dorm building just as I walked outside. He acted nervous when he got out of the car, which I found sweet. I had been struggling with my own case of nerves.

“You look breathtaking,” he said, sweeping me up in his arms so my feet dangled several inches off the ground. I could tell he approved of my dress, which eased some of my stress over my leg being exposed.

“Why, thank you.” I sounded slightly breathless, but the way he held me in his arms stoked my fire. If my plans went off without a hitch, this wouldn’t be the last time either of us would be out of breath tonight. “So, what’s the plan?” Bentley set me back onto my feet, hesitantly answering the question.

“Well, Chad and Michael are out for the night, so I thought we’d pick up something to eat and take it back to my apartment.”

I smiled without offering any objections. Butterflies filled my stomach. Any doubts I may have had about where we stood tonight were put to rest. It was obvious I wasn’t the only one who had given the evening some thought. I hoped I wouldn’t be a disappointment, but it was too late to start second-guessing things.

“How was your weekend?” he asked once we were in the car.

“Eventful,” I answered, smiling at the understatement.

“Even more eventful than Friday?”

“Let’s just say it was a different kind of eventful.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” His insightfulness was one of the things I liked most about him, but tonight I didn’t want to delve into any of the things that would bog us down.

“Not tonight, okay?”

“Whenever you’re ready. I was thinking we could pick up Chinese food. Does that sound good?” He pulled into a shopping plaza near campus.

“Sounds yummy,” I answered, climbing out of the vehicle with him.

To pass the time while we waited for our food, I asked him about work. Listening t

o his stories, I was amazed by how much trouble people could get themselves into during the holidays, especially when alcohol was involved. It reminded me of neighbors we had years ago who tried setting off fireworks in their screened-in porch. They nearly lost their house if not for the quick response of the fire trucks.

Bentley laughed and, of course, had his own stories about the Fourth. “One year, my friend Jacob thought it would be funny to set off an M80 firecracker under a mop bucket. It was so loud, it sounded like a grenade had gone off. My dad was so pissed.”

As we pulled into Bentley’s apartment complex with our Chinese food, my stomach hurt from laughing at Bentley’s impersonation of his dad freaking out on him and his friends.

“You laugh, but I swear my ass still has belt marks on it. I couldn’t sit for a week,” he complained, helping me up the stairs to his apartment.

“We all got in trouble like that one year, too. Dan came up with the brilliant idea of setting off fireworks from the top of his house one Fourth of July. I forget where his parents were, but they were gone for some reason,” I said, searching for details that weren’t important to the story. “Anyway, it was Kat’s dad who caught us just in time to see one of our fireworks land smack dab in the middle of the grand oak tree in Dan’s backyard. Nothing bad happened. Well, to the tree, I mean. All of us got grounded. I remember Kat was so upset, like her world had ended. Total drama, let me tell you,” I chattered away. I stopped myself when I noticed we were standing outside Bentley’s apartment, but he was waiting for me to finish my story before we went inside. “Sorry. I was babbling there.” Truthfully, I think I was trying to distract myself from a bad case of the nerves.

“No, it’s not that. I just like hearing you tell stories. You’re easy to listen to,” he said, pushing the door open to let me enter the apartment first. I could have kissed him for that remark alone, forget about everything else that made me want him. In the month or so that I’d been coming over, I’d never seen the guys’ apartment look so good. It even smelled clean, which meant they had put some real effort into it.

“You cleaned,” I commented, standing in the middle of the living room. “How did you bribe the guys into helping with this?”

He set the food on the counter before joining me. “I may have threatened Sherman’s life, and some money may have switched hands, too.” He placed his hands on my hips, turning me to face him. “Is everything okay?” He gently tugged on my lip. I hadn’t noticed that I was unconsciously gnawing it. He leaned in, lightly kissing the corner of my mouth. “Are you nervous?” His lips trailed across my cheek until they reached my ear, covering my arms in goose bumps. His warm breath tickled the tendrils of hair on the back of my neck. He pulled me closer so our bodies were pressed together. My anxiety faded as I felt every delicious inch of him pressed against me.

“No,” I moaned as he sucked on my neck, making my legs want to collapse.

I wrapped my hands around his face, dragging his mouth up to mine. Feeling bold, I took charge of the kiss by letting my tongue delve into his mouth. He responded by wrapping his arms tightly around my waist.

He pulled his mouth away, reluctantly. “Do you want to eat?”