Page 5 of Wasn't Supposed To Love You

Chapter 3

Bryce

I get a text from Alana letting me know she’s made it home and will start supper. I want to text back, or call her, asking her how class was. But I think better of it, because if I don’t finish doing up this custom order, it will never get done on time. I’m falling behind today. I haven't been able to focus.

I keep thinking about running into that girl on campus. I still feel guilty as fuck about how I felt too. Do I think Alana and I will go the distance? I honestly don't know. We’re still young, and from two completely different worlds.

I’ve never been the guy that thought long term, except when it comes to my shop. I think about the now when it comes to my relationships. As long as it goes well, it will keep going. I’m not ready to settle into the married life any time soon. I have my shop to think of and Alana has school to concentrate on. I manage to get my mind on track and remember what’s important right now. It sure as hell isn’t some rude ass, but extremely hot, chick I spoke to for all of three minutes.

Finishing up the custom order, I turn out the lights and lock up. Making my way out to my car, I hear a woman swearing.

“Fucking stupid piece of shit! I should have let Dad buy me that new car. But no, not me, I wanted to make something of myself. Fucking stupid,” she says, punching the hood of her car.

Wow. Someone is having a bad day. I’ve had a few of those myself.

“Uh, can I help you?” I ask, stepping closer. When her eyes meet mine, I still. It’s the same girl that knocked me on my ass this morning on campus. Fucking hell. My memory didn’t do her justice. She looks even better up close. I instantly smile.

“No, it’s fine, I just swear at it a few times, fool around with a few things under the hood, and it’s fine. Sorry for disturbing you, I have a bad temper,” she says, putting the hood of her car up, and clanging around under it.

“Suit yourself,” I tell her turning to leave, although I don’t want to. I can’t help but glance back at her ass in those jeans.

“Wait! Can you turn the key for me?” she shouts from under the hood.

“Sure,” I say, opening her car door, and turning the key. It starts up instantly. Shocked, I step away from the car. “Wow, never knew a woman that could fix her own car before.”

She just shrugs. “It’s either do it myself, or my dad will learn I’m like every other woman out there that can’t take care of themselves properly.”

I don’t have a comeback for that.

She gets in her car and nearly shuts my fingers up in the door.

She doesn’t say goodbye, or thanks for helping, when she drives off.

I stand there shaking my head and rubbing my chin.

Why do I feel such a strong pull to this chick?

She excites me.

Kristi

So, I probably just made a complete and total ass of myself. What with talking to my car and all. No sane person does that. When I looked up and saw it was the same guy from when we crashed into each other on campus, I lost a bit of my bitch.

Not sure why I did, but something about this guy has me curious. He intrigues me.

I probably shouldn’t have been so rude when I left. I didn’t even bother to look at him as I drove off. He just had me so damn flustered. I wasn’t expecting to see him so soon, or at all.

When I get home, I notice Emma standing outside my apartment.

“You’re here a day early,” I state.

She rolls her eyes. “Well hello to you, too. I missed you so much also,” she says sarcastically.

Emma might be a pain in my ass, but I love her more than anything. I open my front door, and tell her to go on in. “After you.” She walks in the place, with a bounce in her step. Her long brown hair, tied into a high ponytail, sways as she walks. She looks around, taking in my space. It’s a surprisingly big apartment for the cheap price I pay for it. I don’t like clutter so it’s pretty sparse. A black suede couch, coffee table, and end tables. Sugar Skulls posters hanging up. Big ass TV. And that’s about it. Then off to the left is the basic kitchen and dining area. Down the hall is my room and bathroom. Again, nothing special about the place.

“Meet any cute guys here?” she asks me, taking a seat on the couch, suppressing her grin.

It’s my turn to roll my eyes at her as I kick off my shoes. “No, you know I don’t care about that. I’m only twenty-five. I have no desire to settle down right now,” I tell her.

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