Page 37 of Fractured Heart

Tate glances at the window, where the rain is beating loudly against the window sill. Then turns back to me.

“You don’t have to go anywhere, Roo Roo,” he says softly. He brushes a strand of my hair behind my ear but when the coffee maker sputters and stops, Tate jerks away from me. He grabs the full mug and takes a large gulp of coffee.

Then he runs the machine again, presumably for Charles. “I’ll give you my key card.”

“But you just met me!”

“I know.” Tate shrugs. “And anyway, JJ will be here.” Like it’s a good thing.

As if on cue, a door opens down the hall. I can no longer hear the shower running, so I tell myself it must be Charles, but I’m not that lucky.

JJ wanders out of the hallway, clad in boxers and nothing else. His arms are strong, with defined ridges that curve gently into one another. Across his chest, his wide, round pecs sit proudly. Beneath them, row after row of abdominal muscles stretch and strain against each other with every step he takes. I could watch him walk all day, just gazing upon the hypnotic mass of pure athletic muscle as it moves.

His strong, square jaw is in desperate need of a shave, but the scruffy look suits him. I barely contain a wistful sigh until he grumbles, and his face contorts into a scowl. He stumbles into the kitchen, clearly tired and even worse—hung over.

My heart freezes. How could I be admiring his body when he still reeks of beer? And how could I be attracted to him when I made out with both his roommates?

“I think your girl’s checking me out.” JJ chuckles.

“I wasn’t. I’m not!” I cry, trying to deny everything all at once.

My cheeks flush in mortification. It’s bad enough JJ caught me staring. But in front of Tate? What kind of girl does that? Definitely not Tate’s girl. How can I be, after what happened with Charles?

How can I be anyone’s girl when I can’t even keep my eyes on one man?

“You’re not Tate’s girl?” JJ asks, his eyes roving pointedly down my body. “Or you weren’t checking me out?”

I tremble under his gaze and my nipples tighten. I shouldn’t be having this reaction to JJ with Tate right next to me, and the room suddenly feels a whole lot warmer.

“JJ, just let her be, man.” Tate wraps a protective arm around me and pulls me into his side.

The contact sends another wave of heat through me and wetness pools between my legs. JJ grins knowingly, almost like he can tell. I squirm. He takes a step toward me and I suddenly can’t breathe. My eyes widen. Is stuff like this normal here?

I know we’re on a college campus, where parties and hookups are the norm. It’s not that much of a stretch to assume people here have threesomes. Is that why Tate and Charles didn’t bat an eye at what happened last night?

“I just need to get to the fridge.” JJ chuckles. His eyes twinkle with amusement, almost like he knows exactly what I was thinking.

I scramble out from under Tate’s arm and move aside so JJ can grab a protein shake from the fridge. His biceps bulge as he pumps his arm, mixing the magical concoction that will bring him back to life. The bottle is transparent, the liquid inside an odd shade of blue. I’ve known Father to cure a hangover with more booze, which makes me wonder…Is there alcohol in there?

“So, who is she?” he asks, turning to Tate. Halfway through his question, he refocuses on me. “Who are you?”

His tone is gruff, and I suddenly remember his anger from last night. The way he swore when he crashed into the coffee table, and how it was all my fault. He probably doesn’t even remember, since he doesn’t seem to recall ever meeting me. But what if he does?

My breath catches in my throat and I reach for my collarbone only to graze bare skin. My heart lurches, and I feel the fractured pieces in my pocket through the fabric of my jeans.

“Well?” JJ raises a questioning eyebrow at Tate.

“That’s Roonie. She’s crashing here for a while,” Tate says.

JJ runs a hand through his hair as he considers Tate’s words for a moment, chewing his lip. “Cool,” he finally says. He sets down the protein shake without taking a drink and smiles.

In an instant, everything changes. Maybe I’m under his spell or maybe there’s something contagious about his grin. Either way, the tension seeps out of me. I even smile back. I know this doesn’t mean I can trust JJ, especially not when he’s drunk, but for the moment, I feel safe.

“JJ Campbell,” he introduces himself, holding out his hand.

“Roonie Hill.” I slide my hand into his.

He slides his hand over mine gently, his fingers grazing the pulse point on my wrist. My skin prickles and I stare at him, transfixed. Then, he gives my hand a shake and my ribs protest. I try to hide my pained grimace but don’t quite manage it.