Broken Bond

2

VANESSA

I’ve never been a big drinker, but if all alcohol was masked by the taste of cherry Kool-Aid, I’d probably be a lush. I’m a big fan of cherry anything. Cherry lip gloss, cherry gum… even just straight-up maraschino cherries from the garnish tray at the bar where I work. I’m not sure what else is in this jungle juice, but it’s officially my new favorite drink.

Vienna has vacated her spot beside me in favor of joining Levi on the other side of the couch, and a blonde guy slips in to steal her place, tapping my cup with his own. “Want a refill?”

I turn to meet his hazel eyes, giving a little shake of my head. “Nah, I should probably pace myself,” I say, all too aware of how easily the first half of this drink has gone down. “I’m driving.”

“Fair enough,” he replies easily, reclining back on the couch and stretching his arms, not so subtly propping one onto the top of the cushion behind me. It’d be a smooth move if he wasn’t so painfully obvious about it. “I’m Miles, by the way.”

“Nessa,” I smile, nodding politely. Miles is cute in a boy-next-door type of way, but compared to his friend, it isn’t enough to hold my attention. I find myself swinging my gaze back to the boy seated on my left, my eyes catching with his.

I’ve never met anyone quite like Callum before. He’s got this beautiful, haunted quality to him that calls to me from behind those blue-green eyes; a dangerous allure that pulls me in a little bit more with every glance.

It doesn’t hurt that he’s ridiculously good looking, too. His jawline is so sharp that it looks like it was cut from stone, his roguish features startlingly symmetrical. His light brown hair is cropped close on the sides and longer on top, an errant strand flopping down over his brow carelessly. Callum is classically handsome, but he’s not a typical pretty-boy. There’s something grittier about him; something dark and mysterious. Something that excites me.

I should probably stop checking him out so obviously, especially when he's looking back at me like he wants to eat me alive.

Should that frighten me?

Probably. It doesn’t, though. I’m more curious than anything.

“Don’t mind Miles, he just assumes everyone’s a degenerate like him,” Callum snickers, looking past me to throw his friend a mocking smirk.

Miles rolls his eyes, unphased. “And you’re the picture of an upstanding citizen, right?” he tosses back as he drops his hand to my bare shoulder, his fingertips brushing my skin. “I’m surprised this guy hasn’t scared you off yet,” he mutters, leaning in closer.

Ugh, I hate when guys try to get handsy with me right off the bat. They often mistake my friendliness for interest, then accuse me of being a tease when I shut them down. Classic male sense of entitlement. I subtly shrug Miles’ hand off of my shoulder as my gaze flickers back toward Cal. “Guess I don’t scare easy.”

Our eyes meet, something passing between us while Callum’s lips curl into a sinister grin. “Lucky me.”

My heart pounds faster.

He doesn’t have any shortage of confidence, that’s for sure. I roll my eyes, chuckling to myself as I take another sip of my drink, savoring the sweet cherry flavor on my tongue.

Levi was right; this juice concoction is definitely dangerous.

The music switches to a bass-heavy Rihanna song and Cal lets out an audible groan, a hand coming to his temple. “Jesus, who’s running the music tonight?” he complains aloud.

own conversations to respond, so I guess I’ll bite. “What’s wrong with this song?” I query, arching a brow. He levels me with a look of disapproval, but I just shrug him off, continuing. “I’ve heard it on

Cal grumbles, taking another swig of vodka straight from the bottle. I don’t know how he can

you classify as…” I lift a hand to make

eyes drifting up to stare at the ceiling. “Something with actual instruments that wasn’t butchered to all hell in a studio,” he murmurs. “Black Sabbath, Iron

you’re a metalhead,” I conclude with

his head, turning his gaze back on me and narrowing his eyes skeptically. “How do you

that whole dark, tortured vibe going on,” I say with the wave of a

figured out, huh?” he grumbles, the corner of his mouth pulling into a

alcohol already working its way into my system and lowering my inhibitions. “Hardly. But your musical tastes don’t exactly come as a

got me trapped in his stare, those hypnotizing blue-green eyes holding me captive. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen eyes

his tongue over his straight white teeth. “You’re a big Taylor Swift fan,

snort, shaking

shiver in response to the way his gaze slowly drags up and down my body, like he’s undressing me with his eyes. “Tell me I’m wrong, babe,” he purrs. “Tell me you’re not a sweet, bubblegum pop

wrong.” I push up from the couch, tossing my long hair over

a beat, Miles hops up to stand beside me. “Change your mind about that refill?” he asks

give a quick shake

“Oh, uh, just down

to tackling an obstacle course. I almost catch an elbow to the face when I try to slip past a drunk girl dancing with her eyes closed, and narrowly save myself from falling when I stumble over someone else’s foot. It’s absolute chaos,

it was kismet. Not only has it been way too long since either of us had a decent night out, but Vee has been in a major slump since she and her ex broke things off. Even more so since she moved back home a

I do, too.

Once I do, I take a quick pee and wash my hands, leaning over the sink to reapply my cherry red lipstick in the mirror

her at one

to get on Cal for months. If he’s taking anyone home tonight, it’s gonna

closed door of the bathroom. Maybe they’re talking

do you have a death wish? Callum Conway is scary as fuck. He’ll probably chop you up into little

can eat

tube of lipstick, slipping it in my pocket and smoothing my hair in the mirror.

to work on getting him away from that other girl first. Just point her to someone else’s dick!

see me, the women waiting on the other side snap their mouths shut, the laughter dying on their tongues

Surprise, bitches.

I say with a friendly smile, stepping out into the hall as they scramble backwards, wide-eyed. “I’m not planning on going home with

hair whipping behind me as I spin on

trash-talking doesn’t phase me. Maybe it’d bother me if there was a modicum of truth to anything they said, but those girls don’t know me, and they couldn’t be more wrong. If they actually knew me, they’d know that there’s no chance I’d have a one-night stand with someone I just met. I’m not that girl. I don’t even date,

Kill them with kindness.

my mom always told me- if someone badmouths you, prove them wrong by being kind. Even when it’s hard to do. Especially when it’s hard to do.

large U-shaped sectional at the far side of the living room, I