The Pretty Broken

Chapter 11 Sasha

ELEVEN

SASHA

Iwas in my room, reading over my school schedule and class introductions, when I heard noise coming from downstairs. I looked at the clock and saw it was past one A.M.

“Fuck,” Roman grunted before I heard his heavy footsteps.

I instantly relaxed, knowing that we weren’t getting robbed. But that relaxation was ripped away a moment later when I heard a loud crashing sound, followed by a big boom. He grunted and cursed.

Not knowing what was going on, I set my things down and pushed down the blankets as I got out of bed.

I journeyed through the hall and down the stairs, where I found him lying on the floor.

He had his shirt half on with only one arm out.

The shirt was bunched up around his left shoulder and neck.

The crashing sound I heard was Sophia’s toy box that he’d knocked over. Toys were scattered all around him.

His eyes met mine, and he sat up.

“Sorry if I woke you.” He rubbed at his bloodshot eyes.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Going to bed,” he slurred. “I tripped, knocked over the toy box, then stepped on a toy and fell on my ass.”

“Are you drunk?” I asked, squatting to start picking up the toys.

“Why’s it matter to you?” he asked, but it was hard to take him seriously when he was slurring and running his words together.

“Alright, come on. Let’s get you to bed, and then I’ll pick up the mess you’ve made,” I told him, grabbing his hand.

He jerked it away instantly and looked at me like I’d burned him.

“Stop being a child and let me help you before you wake up the actual child in the house.”

He looked pissed off about it, but he took my hand and helped as I pulled him to his feet.

“I can do it,” he said, trying to pull away from me as we headed for the stairs, but the sudden movement caused him to lose his balance, and he fell to the side. I was able to right him and guide him toward the steps.

“The last thing you need is to fall down the steps and break your neck. Just let me help get you to bed. I promise not to mention it tomorrow. It’ll be like it never happened,” I said, grabbing his arm and throwing it over my shoulders.

Roman was a hell of a lot bigger than me. He towered over me by at least a foot, not to mention his sheer size. I was tiny in comparison, and I could feel that difference as I struggled to help him up the stairs.

I held onto the arm with my left hand. My right arm wrapped around his lower back to steady him.

I kept my hand flat in the center of his back, on top of his shirt, as I felt like touching his bare skin was too personal.

He was heavy, and it took all of my strength to keep us upright and moving up the stairs.

When we reached the top, I said a silent thank-you to whatever guardian angel was helping me.

Then we started down the hallway, where we both swayed from right to left.

Finally, we rounded the corner for the smaller set of stairs that led to his room, and he leaned into me too much, causing me to bounce off the corner.

It jabbed into my shoulder and bicep, and I knew it would for sure be a bruise by morning.

I hissed but pushed on, up the last few steps and into the bedroom.

We rushed forward at a faster speed, finally having the end in sight.

When we were close enough, and I felt like I was about to collapse, I practically threw him onto the bed.

He landed with a grunt, and I doubled over with my hands on my knees, panting and out of breath.

“You’re so heavy,” I panted.

He chuckled.

It felt like time stopped with that chuckle.

It was a sound I hadn’t heard in years. I stood up straight and looked down at him.

He was lying on the bed with his feet on the floor.

His arms were above his head, his hands rubbing his tired eyes.

My attention raked across the bare side of his chest, noticing every toned muscle that was exposed on his stomach.

My eyes moved down that trail of hair, and to the firmness in his jeans.

My face heated.

As his laugh died down, he moved his arms back to his sides, and his eyes opened, locking with mine.

Something in the air changed between us.

It was like an electrical current. I could practically hear the sound of power popping and zapping between us.

He cleared his throat, and in an instant, it was all gone.

He sat up on the side of the bed and tugged his shirt off completely. He wadded it up and threw it aside.

“Thanks for your help, but you can go now.” He bent forward as he lifted his foot to remove his shoe, but he lost his balance and went rushing toward the floor, headfirst.

“Oh my god,” I said, leaping forward.

I grabbed his shoulders and pushed him backward until he was sitting upright on the bed.

“Let me,” I said, dropping to my knees.

I untied his shoe and pulled it off his foot.

I set the shoe on the floor and ran my fingers up his pant leg, where I grabbed the top of his white sock.

I worked it down his ankle and off his foot, tossing it aside before moving to the other, where I repeated the process.

When I was finished, I made the mistake of looking up at him.

“You look nothing like her,” he muttered quietly.

“Wha?” The word fell away when he grabbed my face, cupping my cheeks in both hands as his eyes moved over every feature of my face.

“You look nothing like her,” he said again. “How’s that even possible?”

“She took after our mom. I take after our dad,” I told him, locked in his stare. My stomach tightened with anticipation, and my entire body heated under his gaze. It wasn’t an uncomfortable heat, though. It was something else. Something unfamiliar.

“I’m glad you don’t look like her. She haunts me, you know?” With his hand against my jaw, he ran the tip of his thumb along the line of my lower lip.

“I know,” was all I could say, nodding gently.

He wet his lips, and I swear he leaned in a fraction of an inch. Then his hands fell away from my face as he let out a breath.

“What the fuck am I doing?” he murmured, shaking his head. “I remember when you were just a kid. You used to follow my every step,” he said, scooting back on the bed until he was in the center. He lay down and rolled to his side, facing away from me. “Turn the light out when you leave.”

I shook my head clear of confusion, and I stood, rushing toward the door. My heart was pounding in my chest as I gasped for air.

I thought…

I shook my head, telling myself how stupid I was. There was no way he was going to kiss me… Even though that’s what I thought was going to happen.

I turned off the light and exited, pulling the door closed behind me as I raced toward my room.

I didn’t stop until I was alone inside. I closed the door and then pressed my back against it.

The butterflies in my stomach were alive and soaring through my body, tickling me from the inside out.

I clenched my stomach muscles as I squeezed my thighs together, needing to get control over myself.

I thought he was going to kiss me. That thought wouldn’t leave me alone, and it was enough to make me panic. I felt more than anxious. I felt… let down. I wasn’t disappointed that, for a brief moment, he thought about kissing me. I was bummed that he decided against it.

I felt disgusted with myself.

How fucked up did I have to be to want a kiss from a man who was ten years older than me, from a man who was technically my brother-in-law, from a man who was a total asshole and treated me like trash?

Pretty messed up.

I blamed it on my issues with my ex and how maybe it was me trying to have a sliver of revenge, even though he wasn’t here to witness it.

I pushed myself away from the door and crawled back into bed. I didn’t bother with going back to my reading. Instead, I turned off the light and forced myself to go to sleep, despite how amped up my body was.

When I woke in the morning, I wasn’t surprised to find him already gone.

There was a note on the island that said he had left for work.

He thanked me for helping him the night before, and he reminded me of my duty to have dinner on the table when he got home.

I rolled my eyes, wadded up the note, and tossed it into the trash.

What in the hell was I thinking? How could I have wanted that kiss? I was harder up than I felt after finding my boyfriend cheating on me with someone who was supposed to be my best friend.

I pushed it all away as I moved over to make some coffee and start on breakfast.

My morning passed in a blur. I guess time would fly by, given how busy I was keeping myself. Between making breakfast, getting myself ready for school, and getting Sophia to daycare on time, I hadn’t had time to think about anything else, especially the night before.

I arrived on campus with some time to spare, so I decided to take a self-guided tour of the grounds.

The campus was beginning to stir. There weren’t crowds everywhere, but a few people were wandering around.

Some found spots to sit and read, like on the bench by the front sidewalk, near the large brick fountain in the middle of the courtyard, or leaning against a tree trunk.

There was a coffee cart with a small line, so I chose to get a cup to enjoy as I explored my new school.

I reached the end of the line and waited.

After a few minutes, the guy in front of me turned around. Our eyes locked, and he offered a friendly smile, so I did the same.

“My name's Lance. What’s yours?”

“Sasha,” I replied.

He nodded. “I haven’t seen you around here before. First time at this coffee cart?”

I laughed. “It is. It’s my first day on campus. I just transferred here.”

“Oh. Well, it’s nice to meet you, Sasha.” He held out his hand to shake.

I took it, noticing how gently he shook it.

He ran his hand through his dark hair as we moved up in line. “I’ve been going here for a few years now. I’m happy to show you around if you want, help you find your classes.”

“Yeah? That would be great, thank you.” I pulled my schedule from my back pocket and reviewed it. “I’m trying to find the Campbell Building?”

He grinned. “Would you believe me if I said I was going that way?”

A laugh slipped past my lips as I rolled my eyes. “No. Are you?”

His smirk widened. “I am now.”

We got our coffee, then he led me to the building I needed to find.

As he walked beside me, I took the opportunity to take in everything about him.

He was tall, with a swimmer's build. He obviously wasn’t someone who played football or anything.

If he did any sports, I was betting it was track or swimming.

Something that required participants to keep a lean figure rather than bulking up.

He wore loose-fitting jeans and a pair of worn Chuck Taylors.

He wore a navy-blue Henley shirt, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows.

The buttons along the neck were undone, and a small patch of skin peeked out from the opening.

He had high cheekbones, a squared jaw, and blazing blue eyes that lit up when the sun caught them.

“So, what are you majoring in?” he asked as we walked along.

“Computer science,” I replied.

He nodded. “Respectable. And what do you wish you were majoring in?”

I chuckled. “Is it that obvious?”

He shrugged. “Nah, I’ve just been here long enough to know that what we dream about isn’t usually what’s practical.”

I nodded.

“Art,” I confessed.

“Ah, she’s the artistic type. What’s your thing?”

“My thing?” I asked, saying the word just like he did.

“Yeah, you know… Your thing. Is it paint, watercolor, or sketching? Or are you more into physical art like pottery or making art with trash cans and used condoms, that kind of thing.”

I laughed. “First of all, ew. Who uses trash cans and used condoms?”

He smirked and shrugged. “Just giving an example. I haven’t actually seen it done myself.”

I laughed and sipped my coffee. “Good. Because that isn’t art, it’s a biohazard.”

He laughed.

“I like to draw. And paint. I wish I could find a way to get paid to do nothing but create masterpieces all day long, but as you said. That isn’t practical.”

He nodded. “Well, maybe this whole computer science thing will pay off, and your art will become a pastime that makes you money.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“What are you majoring in?”

“Finance,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Oh.” I nibbled my bottom lip for a moment. “What do you wish you were majoring in?”

He grinned. “Meteorology.”

“Like a weatherman?”

He laughed. “Sort of, but I don’t want to be on TV. I want to be one of the guys who chases the storms to study all the weather patterns. I want to develop technology that will help get people out of the eye of the storm long before it hits.”

“Wow, and I thought I was going off the rails with an interest in art.”

He glanced at me and sipped his coffee.

“My dad, my grandfather, and my great-grandfather were all in finance. It was expected. But my uncle, the black sheep of the family, went off and did his own thing. He was essentially cut off from the family tree for it, but now he’s living in paradise, in a little hut on the beach, and he runs his own business.

He’s not rich, but he’s happy, living his own life, not the one he was almost forced into. That’s what I want.”

I smiled up at him, appreciating his realness. “That’s what everyone wants.”

He shrugged. “Gotta do finance to get there, I suppose.”

He had a point.

We reached the Campbell building and stopped outside the main doors.

“You’re on the third floor,” he said. “Fourth door on your right.”

“That’s very specific,” I said, smiling at him. He really was a handsome guy.

He grinned back at me. “I took that same class last semester. Hated it. You’re in for a treat.”

I groaned, making him laugh.

We fell into silence a moment later, simply staring at one another.

“Hey, I know this sounds weird, but can I get your number?” he asked, his words running close together.

“You really like numbers, huh, Mr. Finance?” I smirked at him.

He let out a genuine laugh and pulled out his phone.

I rattled off my number for him, and he sent me a message, making my phone buzz in my bag.

“Maybe I can show you my favorite math problem,” he said, backing away from me, a twinkle in his eye.

I laughed softly as he shot me a wink and turned to go.

The day was shaping up, and for that, I smiled.