Love, Ally: A Second Chance Romance (Brooks University Book 1) Read online

  When I first met her and Lenny, the owner, I knew that they were good people. I knew that they had been put in my path for some sort of purpose. I don’t trust easy, but with them, I just knew they weren’t going to do anything to hurt me.

  Because of the fact that I’m sort of an orphan who has pretty kick-ass writing skills, which helped me write sob stories to colleges on why they should give me a scholarship, my schooling is free. And despite me being a proud person, I don’t feel bad about the handout. Life has kicked me in the vagina so many times that I’ll set my pride aside for a free college degree.

  While I might be tuition-less when it comes to college, for things like clothing, food, and other essential items, I’ll need cash. So, getting a job was my only option. And besides, I like to keep myself occupied at all times. If I sit in idle mode, that’s when the weight of everything bears down. And that’s when I think about him.

  And that damn dimple.

  Turning the key, I push open the door to our dorm to find Sloane sitting on her bed, holding her Kindle.

  Looking up, she pulls her reading glasses off. “Hi.” She smiles.

  “What’s up?” I answer back while setting my bag down.

  “Not much. But I’m glad you’re home. I have, like … a huge favor to ask.” Standing up, she paces around nervously. “Huge.”

  I frown and walk over to the refrigerator. Pulling out a can of Diet Coke, I pop it open and take a sip, sighing. Diet Coke … the crack of my life.

  Turning my attention back to my weirdly anxious roommate, I raise a brow. “Do you have scabies?”

  Her eyes widen. “What? No!”

  “Fungus?”

  “Wha—”

  “Oh.” I widen my eyes. “I see, you’ve got the syph …”

  “Syph?” she says, scrunching her nose up.

  “You know, syphilis. A rash, fever, perhaps a headache.” I shrug when her eyes grow to the size of saucers. “I paid attention in wellness class.”

  “Well, no! I do not have any of that … that … disgusting stuff!” she practically squeals. “What is wrong with you?!”

  I love that everything makes her blush. She is the opposite of me. It takes a lot to embarrass me.

  I grin. “I’m just kidding. I was just giving you shit for being nervous.”

  “Har-har. Sooo funny, smart-ass.”

  Plopping myself on the bed, I give her a tight-lipped smile. “All right, girlfriend, why the hell are you moving around so much, like you’ve got ants in your pants?” I ask, leaning back on my elbows. I can tell she’s nervous, which also makes me nervous because I don’t know what the hell she’s going to ask me as a favor. “Why are you so nervous to ask me whatever it is?”

  “I … need you to go on a date with me,” she murmurs, biting her nails—something I’ve noticed she does a lot.

  A cough escapes my throat even though I try to hold it in. I did not think I gave her the vibe that I was into her. And I sure as shit didn’t pick up on her being into me. Maybe I’m misunderstanding her. Either way, it’s totally cool. I’m just into the D, not the V. Making this awkward.

  “Like … with you? As in a date with … just you and me? Or …” I ask, needing clarification. “Because, well, I’m flattered and all, but—”

  Her mouth hangs open as she realizes what I’m saying. “Oh, no, not like that!” She waves her arms around. “God, no! I’m not asking you out, Ally.”

  Holding my free hand up, I almost choke on my Diet Coke. “Sorry, we don’t know each other that well. I wasn’t sure what you meant by that. Wanted to double-check, you know? Just to be extra sure we were on the same page.” Circling my hand around, I give her an apologetic smile. “Please, carry on.”

  Shifting back and forth on her feet nervously, she sighs. “There’s this guy, Knox. He’s in one of my classes, and … he asked me to go to a movie with him. I wasn’t really comfortable with meeting up with some guy I barely know.” She pauses, giving me a pointed look. “You know, Lifetime movie shit can really happen. Kidnappings and stuff.”

  I nod slowly, keeping my eyes trained on her. “Yeah … not really seeing where I come into this …”

  “I told him I wanted to bring a friend, so then he said he wanted to bring a friend, and now, well … I guess we’re both bringing friends,” she says, covering her face with her hands, baby-pink polish on her perfectly manicured nails.

  Me? I’m rocking dark blue, and they are most likely already chipped. Fifty-cent nail polish doesn’t typically last very long. But I still think I should get an A for effort because in my opinion, painting nails is a pain in the balls.

  Pushing myself up, I tilt my head to the side. “So, let me get this straight. One dude could kidnap you and lock you in his basement. But because you bring a friend … and he brings a friend, that shit won’t happen? Like, no skinsuits or creepy basements? You know, the ones with the door that lifts up on the outside of the house.” I watch too much Dateline.

  “Well, I mean, if he’s a psychopath, he’s less likely to act like one in front of three other people. I doubt his friend would know if he was a mass murderer. In the Lifetime movies, the friends never know.”

  “Or”—I point my finger at her—“hear me out. Maybe the friend is also a skinsuit, lock you in the basement freak too? Maybe together, they are just a team of Craigslist killers? Maybe that is what’s going on here.”

  She shakes her head and laughs. “Don’t be absurd, Ally. Wow, how much Lifetime do you watch?”

  My mouth hangs open, and I literally have to push it shut. The nerve this chick has. She’s the one who brought up Lifetime and dragged me into her awkward first date. Now, I’m absurd?

  But so far, she’s been giving me really good vibes, and she seems like she’s going to be a great friend. Besides, I could use some over-buttered popcorn and sugary candy right now.

  Let’s not forget about delicious, bubbly fountain Diet Coke either.

  “When?” I ask wryly. Thinking she likely means tomorrow or this weekend. Maybe I’ll be working and have an excuse not to go. That will be a sure sign from above that I should not have to go on this double date.

  Looking at her watch, she suddenly rushes to her dresser. “We need to leave in ten minutes!”

  There I sit, mouth hanging open yet again. “Tonight, Sloane? To-fucking-night?”

  “Sorry!” she yells over her shoulder before turning back toward me. “By the way, you have the worst potty mouth. Like … ever.”

  “Sorry. I’ll try to work on that,” I quip back.

  “Really?” She sounds surprised.

  “Fuck no,” I say dryly.

  She giggles. “It’s okay. I sort of like it anyway. You keep things interesting, for sure, Allycat.”

  Cole

  “Jesus Christ, Carter. I don’t even like movies,” I growl at Knox. “Why couldn’t you have asked Weston? That fucker probably loves movies and shit.”

  I’m not lying to him either. I really don’t like movies. Actually, I loathe them.

  I hate sitting still for any period of time. Life’s too short to do crap like sit through a shitty fucking movie. I’ve always been too restless for that.

  “Oh, quit your bitchin’, would ya? He went somewhere tonight. Go figure. And besides, this movie looks funny as shit.”

  “Is shit funny?” I deadpan.

  “Oh, go fuck yaself,” he drawls in that Maine accent that sounds like a Southerner and a Canadian had a baby. “Anything with Vince Vaughn is good. You should know this.”

  That sends a pain right into my core. Vince Vaughn was always Ally’s favorite actor. I swear she watched the movie Wedding Crashers one hundred times. She could recite the entire thing. And Old School too.

  “I just don’t understand why in the fuck you couldn’t come alone. Were you scared she’d take advantage of you, ol’ boy?” I smack his back. “Need me to protect you?”

  Wiggling his eyebrows, he smirks. “I’d love for her to
take advantage of me. This girl is a solid ten.” His smirk turns to a frown. “Except … she dresses like she’s stuck-up. Cardigans, sundresses, sweaters—that type of shit.” Grinning, he punches my arm. “Then again, it’s always those ones that are the wildest ride, if you know what I mean.”

  I actually don’t have a fucking clue what he means. Ally, well, she certainly didn’t dress stuck-up. And she also definitely didn’t put off the vibe that she was.

  She was edgy, badass, mysterious, sexy, beautiful, and often intimidating to other chicks.

  “So, why the fuck am I here then? Why not just come alone with her?”

  He cringes. “She wanted to bring a friend.”

  I start laughing. “Ohhh shit. So, what you’re saying is, she thought you were a fucking serial killer and didn’t want to come alone?” Stepping back, I look him up and down, rubbing my chin. “You sort of do have that creepy-as-fuck look about you,” I say, tormenting him. He doesn’t, but I like getting him wound up. It doesn’t take much with Knox.

  “Fuck off,” he grunts. “Do not.”

  “Tell you what.” I shrug. “You can buy me popcorn and a soda for dragging my ass here. Deal?”

  He rolls his eyes. “Dude, you drive the most expensive truck Chevrolet makes, and you need me to buy you popcorn?”

  “Fucking right I do.” I give him a cocky smirk.

  He thinks I have money. He thinks I come from money. I don’t. Even with this limitless credit card in my wallet, I know I’m a fraud. One of my best friends thinks I’m something that I’m not. And I’m too much of a coward to tell him.

  “Oh shit, there they are.” His entire face lights up as his eyes spot someone I have yet to.

  Shaking my head, I continue to laugh, trying to come up with something else I can say to get under his skin. He might be a good friend of mine, but it’s funny as hell to annoy him.

  My eyes follow to where he’s looking. Fuck if the laughter doesn’t die right in my throat. And the blood running through my veins? Well, it turns to fucking ice. And there’s a second where I feel like I might pass out.

  Am I seeing a fucking ghost?

  If I am seeing a ghost, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in my entire life.

  Once I snap out of it and realize that I’m not seeing a spirit but a real fucking person, I can’t believe my eyes. And for a split second, I’m certain my damn heart fails me and stops beating, stalling like the fucking five-speed truck I used to own, the one with a shitty clutch and rusted-out floorboards.

  I fight to catch my breath as I take in the most beautiful creature that has ever walked this earth. Then, I remember that this girl—this stunning, sexy girl standing before me—is nothing but a traitor. And I snap the fuck out of it.

  Realization that she might be the girl that Knox is meeting hits me, and suddenly, I’m seconds away from punching one of my best friends in the face.

  My hand forms a fist at my side as he gets closer to them. The thought of him even talking to Ally has me in a blind rage. A rage that I know for certain could tear this entire movie theater to pieces. Brick by brick.

  I huff a breath of relief when he approaches the blonde in the sundress and not the brunette beauty who is dressed in mostly black clothing. It would have been awkward as fuck to lay him out in the middle of this lobby. But unfortunately, that’s what it would have come to. I can’t have another man looking at what rightfully belongs to me.

  Fuck no.

  The two girls, beautiful as they both are, are polar opposites. The blonde is all shiny, bright, and perfect. Not that Ally isn’t perfect—she’s perfect for me—but she isn’t perfect in the same way the squeaky-clean blonde is. Ally’s mysterious, dark, and intimidating.

  The blonde might be good-looking, but she doesn’t hold a candle to the girl standing next to her.

  She spots me, and her eyes widen as she takes me in. And for a moment, it’s like the entire world stops. The other moviegoers walking by no longer exist. It’s just us. Two best friends and lovers who haven’t seen each other in well over a year.

  Her brown hair is even longer now, reaching down to nearly the bottom of her back in thick waves. Her lips are painted that shade of red she always liked. Pale pink just never cut it. After all, she was never one to blend into the shadows. Fuck no. She stood out everywhere she went. I don’t even think she cared to be noticed; it was just unavoidable. She’d have fuckers stopped in their tracks, just at the sight of her.

  Same style. Ripped jeans and a black top that shows the bottom of her stomach. Along with baby-blue Converse on her feet. She always looked like a badass bitch. That’s why nobody fucked with her. Well, that, and because she was with me. Back in Charlotte’s Falls, nobody dared to fuck with me. I was a foster kid with anger problems. And I was damn protective of what was mine, and Ally belonged to me.

  I might have been thrilled to see her for a moment, but the remembrance that she left me without so much as a measly scribbled note hits me. And suddenly, I hate her all over again. Just like I did that day I came home and they told me she’d taken off. Leaving me like I was nothing. Like we were nothing.

  No text message or phone call. Nothing. All I have left of her is a note from years ago. A note I carry around in my pocket like a little bitch.

  My entire life, everyone has left me. But her? I thought she was loyal. Thought she’d never leave.

  She played me for a fool. And now? Now, I want to make her feel like one too.

  Stepping up to her, I let my eyes roam over her. “Wow”—I attempt a cocky smirk—“they really will let anyone into this theater, won’t they?” I shake my head and circle her like a shark circling its prey. “Must be hard up for business.” I turn toward Knox. “What the fuck is she doing here anyway? I sure as shit would have stayed home had I known she’d be here.”

  Knox is too busy giggling like a sixteen-year-old girl with his date to even acknowledge me. He links his hand in hers and spares me a glance. “We’re going to get some food.”

  Motherfucker didn’t even hear me.

  Gone are her nerves, replaced with feistiness as she steps in front of me, eyes narrowed slightly. “What the fuck are you doing here?” She tries to come off as unaffected, but her voice shakes the smallest bit. Something only I’d pick up on. “Was this a setup or some shit?” she snarls, putting a hand on her deliciously sexy hip.

  Ah, yes. Her filthy mouth is still intact too.

  Ally swears like a damn pirate. And though I have no idea why, it turns me on. So. Fucking. Much.

  “I could ask you the same thing, Allycat.”

  I try to act like a cocky bastard, but it isn’t an easy task since I haven’t seen her in fifteen months and don’t have the slightest idea where the hell she’s been. Not to mention, the slight amount of her cleavage showing causes my dick to strain in my jeans. As I’m sure is happening with every other fucker in this place.

  Unable to stop myself, I gaze around the lobby in the movie theater to see if any asshole’s eyes are lingering on my girl. There are a few checking her ass out as they pass by, and I can’t blame them. That ass is legendary. The majority just seem to be watching our interaction as we stand off like a bunch of wild animals who were born and trained to attack.

  Because we were.

  Nobody taught us though. We had to teach ourselves.

  “Yo, Storm, movie is startin’ soon. Hurry your ass up,” Knox calls from the food line, a huge-ass popcorn in one arm, his date in the other.

  When I turn my attention back to the villain in front of me, she arches a sexy, dark eyebrow, and an amused smirk plays lazily on her lips. “Storm, huh? How original. Wherever did you come up with such a clever name?” she coos, tilting her head to the side.

  The sight of her pisses me off. She and her traitorous soul don’t deserve my fucking time. She lost that right a long time ago.

  “Some meaningless chick I fucked gave it to me.” I shrug. “It sort of stuck.” Stepping u
p to her, I lean toward her ear, feeling her heat radiating off of her body, responding to mine. “I guess that’s the one good thing that hateful bitch did for me.”

  She flinches, and I have to fight off feeling like a dick. I’m hurting, and I want to hurt her. But that doesn’t mean that it’s an easy thing to do.

  “That was nice of her to give you such a sweet nickname,” she says once she’s recovered. Her eyes widen. “From what I’ve heard, your dick never did fully satisfy her.”

  As I keep my eyes trained on her, my lip turns up slightly. “Her screams beg to differ.”

  And, oh, did they differ.

  She was fully satisfied. Always.

  We became best friends in seventh grade when we both landed at the same foster home. That day, I knew she was mine. Almost like my body and soul recognized her immediately. Like I had been waiting for her to show up.

  But when she left, I was like a fiend, having withdrawals from her. I’m not so sure those withdrawals have ever subsided.

  Our tie toward each other is one that I could never put into words even if I tried. It was unbreakable. At least, I thought it was.

  I stuff my hands into my pockets, and my fingertips feel the small folded-up paper that I shoved into one this morning. Like I do every day. I’m pathetic, but hey, I don’t really give a fuck.

  I’m glad she doesn’t know I carry this around with me. She doesn’t deserve to know that even though I hate her, I still need this piece of paper like it’s my fucking lifeline.

  Not missing a beat, she quips back, “Did she ever mention she was considering going to college for theater? Turns out, she’s an excellent actress.”

  I forgot how it is with her. The banter. The comments. She can be sweet too. Sometimes. But she has a rough side to her, a side that could eviscerate her prey. I only saw her use it when someone did it to her first. Almost like she was ready and waiting for the world to hurt her again, like it had so many times before.

  She’d always had her heart locked up tighter than Alcatraz, always afraid anyone who tried to get close had ill intentions. But she finally let me in, and I never would have broken her trust.