Breaking Hearts (B-boy Book 2) Page 16

  “Go. I don’t want to see you again.” His voice was cold in a way that froze me to my core.

  “But—”

  In another exaggerated movement, he motioned toward the hallway. “Now.”

  My nose prickled, shooting needle-like pains around my nostrils. My eyes blurred as tears threatened to fall. Why, oh why did I feel a need to cry? I had no right to cry. I was the bad guy in all this. I broke someone’s heart because of a delusional fantasy.

  I left his room, wiping my nose with the back of my hand. I paused, wanting to apologize once more, but knew it was a lost cause. I pushed myself to walk out of his room. Sniffling, I turned the corner and ran smack into Jacob. Of course I’d see him now.

  “Hey, Ellie,” he teased. His smile faltered when he noticed my face for the first time—I was the textbook definition of an ugly crier. “Hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  He reached out to touch my shoulder and I automatically jerked away, eliciting an even deeper frown from on his face.

  “I…I just need to go.” I tried to push past him, but he wasn’t having it.

  “Estelle, tell me what’s wrong.” His eyes flicked up to his dorm door. The corners of his mouth turned down. “Did David do something to you?”

  “What? No.” I shook my head and sniffled once more. “Of course not.”

  I eyed the hallway behind him, but by the look of his face I knew there was no getting past him without some sort of explanation. But how was I going to explain this?

  “I hate how you’re with Gemma and I figured that sleeping with your roommate would help me get over you.”

  I cringed at the thought and whispered, “We broke up.”

  “Oh!” Jacob’s eyes brightened for a split second, but quickly returned to their usual soulfulness. “Um, are you okay? Do you need anything?”

  Yeah, you.

  I shook my head. “I just need to go. I just want to forget about it all. Even for just one night.”

  “We can go somewhere. You know, to get your mind off everything.”

  As bad as it sounds, I was tempted, but I knew I needed to do the right thing. “No, it’s okay.”

  Jacob’s face darkened. “You sure?”

  “Yeah.” I pressed my lips together into a tight smile. “Gemma would probably get mad.”

  “What does Gemma have to do with anything?” He shook his head, and without further hesitation, gripped my shoulders tightly.

  “Jacob, I broke one heart already, I can’t…”

  “So you broke up with David? Why?” His piercing eyes felt as if they were burning a hole right through my soul.

  I gulped and stammered. “I-I…I like somebody else.”

  The left corner of his lips rose slightly. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  My eyes widened in surprise as he leaned in toward me. My heart was like a jackhammer, pounding a hundred times per second. “Jacob, what are you doing?

  His answering kiss cut me off.

  I soon lost myself to the feeling of his soft lips caressing mine. My heart jumped once more and my skin felt hot and cold at the same time.

  This.

  This was exactly what I was missing with David.

  The spark and feeling of completeness was what I thirsted for and craved with him. With Jacob it all came naturally and I didn’t have to force anything about it.

  I didn’t need to sleep with him and I didn’t need to trick myself into liking him.

  Jacob’s fingers trailed my collar bone, traveling up my neck to the side of my cheek before curling into my hair. He tugged at it slightly as if to make sure I was really there. In response, I gripped his biceps, thrusting my breasts against his chest, melting into his kiss completely.

  This kiss was definitely a redo of all the kisses I’d had before. It was definitely the best and it was definitely wrong.

  Gemma…

  David…

  It was all wrong, but I couldn’t stop.

  Our kiss grew more intense, as if we were both the water to each other’s unquenchable thirst. Jacob lowered his hands to my hips and picked me up slightly before pressing me against the wall. I instinctively wrapped my legs around his waist, never once taking my lips off of his. As his hands wandered underneath my shirt, I couldn’t help but freak out at the fact that we were in the middle of his dormitory hallway. At any moment anyone could walk in on us. As odd as it was, I couldn’t help but feel excited about the prospect.

  Jacob groaned against my mouth as his tongue plunged further inside, caressing me. I opened my eyes, desperate to see if this was in fact real or just a very realistic figment of my imagination. Once my vision began to clear I realized it was in fact very real—I also saw something I wished I hadn’t.

  Gemma’s face was bright red and her body was shaking. She stood at the end of the hallway near the elevator, clenching and unclenching her tiny fists.

  I yelped and immediately pushed against Jacob, causing him to drop me on the spot. Unfortunately, my shirt became tangled in his arms and rode up to reveal my bra—something I was sure Gemma did not need to see.

  I pushed against Jacob, turning toward the opposite end of the hallway toward the stairwell. It was obvious he didn’t notice Gemma yet. How could he? She was stealthy quiet.

  “Estelle! Where are you going?” He took a step forward, but I was at the stairwell door before he could reach me.

  As much as I loved Jacob, I couldn’t do it. Not at the expense of someone’s else’s heart. My eyes flitted toward Gemma, who still remained as still as a statue.

  Though my heart was pounding, begging me to stay with him, I couldn’t in good conscience do so.

  I peered into his eyes and fought back a sob. “Goodbye, Jacob.”

  At that moment I couldn’t have guessed that those would be the last words I’d speak to him for a very, very long time.

  “Hello, regret number three,” I whispered, sobbing quietly.

  Chapter 31

  Present

  “So why’d you leave?”

  I looked up from my scribbles in surprise. “What are you talking about?”

  Jacob pushed himself from the window and planted himself in the overstuffed chair facing my desk. He tapped his fingers methodically, making a rhythm that sounded similar to the drum breaks of his old b-boy records. “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

  “I didn’t leave because of David, if that’s what you’re implying,” I shot back in a muted tone.

  “I wasn’t implying anything.” He placed both feet on the corner of my desk with a THUNK. My paperweight rattled from the sudden movement

  I shut my eyes and rubbed at them, not even caring that I’d smear my day-old makeup across my face. “It’s funny you ask. I thought Anna would have told you.”

  “Why would she tell me? It’s not as if we were friends—ever, really.” He grunted and eyed me pointedly. “Guess you really weren’t friends with her either if you’d think such a stupid thing.”

  “We were thrust in the same room. As hard as I tried, we were never going to become friends,” I snapped.

  He gazed at me quietly for a moment before speaking again. “Can you tell me why you’re dancing around my question?”

  “I’m not dancing around anything.”

  “Did you leave out of fear of your growing reputation? You know—hit ’em and quit ’em. That’s how you rolled back then, isn’t it?”

  I slammed the side of my fist against my desk, further rattling my copper paperweight. It took everything in my power not to pick it up and throw it against the wall. “Like I said, I’m not dancing around anything!”

  “Right. I believe you.”

  My chair fell back as I abruptly stood. I walked around my desk, pushing his feet off the corner of my desk. I leaned over his body while placing my hands firmly against my hips. I felt my lips twitch in anger. “You know what? I’m sorry if I’d rather not talk about a shitty time in my life.” />
  “Shitty, eh? Thought you’d love the fact that you left broken hearts in your wake,” he replied with a smirk.

  Ignoring him, my voice raised a few octaves. “And I’m sorry if I’d rather forget the time my dad was hospitalized for months and I had to drop out for a semester to help take care of him.”

  The snide expression left his face. “Wait, what?”

  I was on a roll and I wasn’t about to stop. My voice raised even higher, sounding exceptionally shrill. “And I’m also sorry if a shitty time in my life was followed by something even shittier!”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. Jacob dropped his eyes before catching mine once again. “E—I mean Estelle—can you tell me what happened?”

  I shrugged my shoulders and walked over to his window. It was a bit funny to find that we had switched places. I stared out into the night and gazed at the apartment buildings across the street. Their lights had long since been turned off as its tenants welcomed nighttime slumber. Though I envied their relaxation, I had to admit, the sight was serene. Maybe that’s why Jacob couldn’t leave the window.

  “What’s there to tell?” My voice was low and gravely as memories flashed back into my head. “I broke David’s heart, and Gemma’s, mind you, and as I partook in an exceptionally painful walk of shame back to my dorm I got a message that my dad was involved in a car accident. I left as soon as I convinced my professors to let me take my last two finals by email.”

  Jacob’s voice also dropped a bit lower. “Is your dad okay?”

  “Yeah. Took some time, surgery, and physical therapy but he’s okay. Unless you count the massive medical bills that are still coming through, you would never have known he was in a fucked up hit and run.”

  I thought that would have been the end of it, but Jacob still pressed on. “Why didn’t you come back?”

  I shot him a look over my shoulder. “To where? Cal U?”

  He nodded his head, but didn’t say a word.

  “To what? To my ‘reputation?’” I replied, using air quotations. “To my awesome roomie Anna, giver of horrible advice? Or do you mean to David?”

  Jacob rose from his seat quietly and thrust his hands into his pocket. “To me.”

  Chapter 32

  Past

  “Fuck! Seriously? You’re going to dodge me like that?” I threw my head back and let out what I could only describe as a war cry. “No. You are not going to fuck me over like that.”

  “I’m sorry, but my client decided to cancel his tour. No tour means no interview. You understand.”

  “What I understand is my foot up your ass. Don’t think that tight sphincter of yours can’t hold my Jimmy Choos.”

  “Miss—”

  I hung up the phone and rolled my eyes. “I’ll teach that asshole to screw with me.”

  The sound of someone clapping their hands interrupted my tirade. I swiveled around in my desk chair and spotted my boyfriend, Kurt, stepping into my office. Even after six months together the sight of him still took my breath away. Tall, devilish eyes, and dirty brown hair—he was a dead ringer for a young Clint Eastwood. How the hell did I get so lucky?

  “Hey, beautiful.” Kurt walked up to me, just as I stood from my chair. In one swift move, he had one arm around my waist and the other crawling toward my breasts.

  Laughing, I swatted it away. “Not at the office.”

  “Hey, it’s a perk of dating one of your highest paying clients, right?” He gave my left breast a playful squeeze before dropping his hand.

  I rolled my eyes and gently pushed him away. “And totally not professional. I already have a handful of people here who think the only reason why you advertise with our magazine is because I’m sleeping with you.”

  He perched himself on the edge of my desk and shrugged his shoulders. “Can’t say it’s not a perk.”

  “Ha, ha.” I sighed and rolled my neck, unpinning my hair so it cascaded down my back. It had been a busy few months and I was in dire need of a haircut. I hadn’t worn my hair this long since my freshman year of college and I couldn’t say the nostalgia didn’t annoy me.

  Kurt whistled in appreciation as he eyed me hungrily. Despite myself, I felt a strange longing in response to the look of pure thirst in his eyes.

  Knowing perfectly well that I wasn’t about to have another sexcapade on top of my desk, especially since we’d almost been caught the only other time we tried, I quickly changed the subject. “So get this, William Mantoni totally canceled his interview with me. What am I going to do for my article next month? I’m totally screwed!”

  Kurt shrugged his shoulders and fingered one of my awards, which sat near my computer. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out. You always do, right?”

  I still couldn’t believe that shy, naïve Estelle Donovan was now a cutthroat journalist in New York City. Well, maybe not so hard knock. For one, I was only the Entertainment Editor for NYC Journal, a small monthly magazine distributed in all of the five boroughs. Still, I was quickly growing a reputation for being a no-nonsense go-getter. In fact, just months ago I’d uncovered one of the biggest scandals on the Broadway scene. I gained notoriety almost overnight. Of course that notoriety came with a price. Besides making a lot of enemies along the way, the infamy of my nationally covered story made all my follow-up articles pale in comparison.

  I shut my eyes and began to rub my temples, attempting to soothe my piercing headache. “What am I going to do? I’m totally at a loss right now.”

  Kurt pulled out a nearby chair, somehow folding his lean body into the seat. At six-foot four he looked a bit out of place in my office, but I sure as hell wasn’t complaining.

  “Actually, I think I have an idea that’ll help us both out,” he answered smugly.

  I lifted a perfectly waxed eyebrow in response and smoothed out my Chanel dress, something I splurged on when my Broadway article went to print. “If this is another one of your kinky ideas, then I say maybe.”

  He burst into laughter and winked. “And that potty mind of yours is exactly why I love you.”

  I beamed, still pinching myself that I scored such an awesome guy. God only knew how horrible my love life used to be.

  “Okay, well, shoot. What’s your big idea?” I prodded.

  “Our talent agency recently just signed a new group. I was appointed their manager and let me say, I think they’re going places.”

  I clicked my mouse a few times to wake up my sleeping computer and began to type up some notes. “What kind of music do they do?”

  Kurt’s mouth stretched to the side as he closed one eye. “They don’t exactly sing.”

  I lifted my hands from my keyboard and looked at him pointedly. “You do realize I write a music column, right?”

  “Entertainment,” he corrected. “Trust me, these guys are entertainment.”

  “Okay, then.” I leaned toward him and narrowed my eyes. “What exactly do they do?”

  “Dance.”

  A familiar twitch tugged at my gut. It was one I hadn’t felt in years.

  I gulped. “They dance. Huh…”

  Kurt rolled his chair toward mine, walking it over with his heels. “I know it probably sounds strange—”

  “Oh, it does.”

  “—but I promise you, these guys can—no will—hit it big.”

  I pressed my lips together and frowned. “You do realize half of Broadway hates me, right? If I write about these dancers they’d be shunned left and right. Heck, even Off-Broadway won’t take them…nor would those community plays over on the bad side of Brooklyn.”

  Kurt rolled his eyes and placed his hands on top of mine. “They’re not Broadway dancers, Estelle. They’re hip hop.”

  “Hip hop? Like the kind that dances in music videos?” My stomach dropped a bit, though I wasn’t sure why.

  My boyfriend shrugged his shoulders and nodded. “There are some competitions, some that are international, by the way, that these guys could dominate in. Remember what happened
to that one group on MTV? They have their own show in Las Vegas now and I promise you, these guys are at their level.”

  “Well, your confidence level in them is one I’d never seen before. Even your Grammy winner was like a thorn in your side.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Don’t ever speak of her again. I still get shivers when I hear, “One Day, One Time” on the radio. Worst two years of my life.”

  I stifled a giggle. “Okay, fine. What do you want me to do? Just write an article about them, then?”

  “I want a full profile on all the guys. Photos, bios, the works. I need these guys to be known, Estelle.” He peered into my eyes, searching for the yes that we both knew I was ready to give. “So what do you say?”

  I licked my lips and wagged my eyebrows. “If I say yes, does that mean that you’ll be buying another ad in next month’s issue?”

  “You run a tough game, Donovan,” he replied with a laugh.

  “Add a few pre-roll ads and some leaderboards on our website and I’ll think about it…” I ran my tongue over my lips, grazing my teeth over my bottom lip.

  He tapped his chin, feigning doubt, but soon shot me that smile I loved so much. “Fine.”

  “So we have ourselves a deal?”

  He stuck out his hand. “Deal.”

  As soon as I shook it, he pulled me onto his lap so I was straddling him. In one quick movement he undid the fly to his slacks and pushed my panties to the side. I pressed my cheek against his and whispered, “I thought we said no more hanky panky at the office.”

  As he entered me, I let out a moan, which he quickly quieted by cupping his hand over my mouth. “I never said that. You did.”

  Chapter 33

  My heels clicked against the New York City sidewalk as I barreled through the crowd. Expertly avoiding the steel grates, I navigated through 53rd street, searching for a lone dance studio.

  “Kurt better not have sent me on a wild goose chase,” I muttered, checking the GPS on my phone. When the blue dot began blinking, I skidded to a stop and gaped at the dirty building in front of me, which did not look like a dance studio in the slightest. The brown bricks were a bit too mildew-covered for my taste and the fire escape was completely rusted. It also had no open windows. It was definitely a far cry from the studios I’d frequented during my Cal U days. Figuring the dance studio was on one of the top floors, I let out a sigh and walked inside, preparing myself for what lay ahead.