Battle for Love Page 3

  After a few more lingering kisses, I managed to pry myself away from her so she could get ready for class.

  Although guilt twisted my gut, the unpleasant sensation couldn’t dull the warm, hopeful glow in my chest. Maybe I could lead a normal life here. Maybe Ashlyn could be mine.

  Chapter Three

  Joseph

  The late afternoon shift at the bar was predictably slow. I didn’t understand why the managers bothered keeping it open before ten PM. That was when the students started arriving.

  As it was, I’d spent the last four hours deep cleaning the place, since there weren’t any customers in sight. After I’d abandoned my shift last night to be with Ashlyn, my coworker Sara hadn’t done the best job at cleanup.

  I didn’t blame her. I’d kind of fucked her over, leaving without so much as an apology.

  So I scrubbed the bar, grateful for the distraction from my conflicted thoughts about pulling Ashlyn into my life.

  Before I’d escaped to Cambridge, I’d never so much as wiped down a counter in my own home. We’d had a housekeeper who handled mundane chores.

  But now, I didn’t mind the work. I’d scrub floors for the rest of my life and live in a shithole studio apartment if it meant that I could be free from my old life, my family.

  When my short, solo shift ended, Sara arrived to take over. She glared at me, but she didn’t rip me a new one for abandoning her. She accepted my apology with a tight nod and a dismissive wave for me to leave. Grateful that she seemed willing to move past it, I left the bar without trying harder to make amends. I got the feeling Sara would rather not have me in her space today. At least she hadn’t called our managers to get me fired. If I wasn’t going to leave town, I needed this job. It had been hard to find a place that would pay me cash under the table and not ask too many questions about my invented work experience on my application.

  When I stepped out of the bar into the twilight, my senses immediately went on high alert. The parking lot was empty except for my Corolla and Sara’s Buick, but I wasn’t alone out here. I’d spent years stalking people, intimidating them. I knew what it felt like to be watched, hunted.

  If my family had tracked me down, or worse, my family’s enemies, I had to get out of town and get away from Ashlyn.

  But I wasn’t going to leave her unless I was sure.

  I decided she was worth the risk.

  I reached into my pocket and pulled out the cheap phone I’d bought when I first arrived in Cambridge. I’d keep the call short, and then I’d ditch the phone.

  I entered the number I knew by heart and connected the call. It rang three times before the familiar, clipped voice sounded through the line.

  “Who the fuck is this?”

  “Are you following me?” I asked immediately, not willing to spend a second longer on the phone than necessary.

  A beat of stunned silence passed. “Joseph?”

  “I asked you a question, Marco,” I growled. “Are you following me? Do you have people looking for me?”

  “Of course I have people looking for you. Where the fuck are you?”

  I cursed and ended the call. Marco wouldn’t lie to me. I wasn’t surprised that my best friend had people searching for me, but if he truly hadn’t discovered my location, then that meant someone else was watching me. And they weren’t part of my own family. While I didn’t want anyone to find me, allies would have been preferable to enemies.

  I threw the phone down onto the pavement. It shattered, and I finished crushing it under my boot. I wouldn’t be able to afford to keep that number. Not after calling Marco.

  “If I had that piece of shit phone, I’d smash it, too.”

  I whirled and found Stu approaching me, flanked by two of his frat boy lackeys.

  Fuck. I’d jeopardized my hideout because these assholes were following me?

  Even as relief washed through me, my fists curled at my sides. I’d put my location at risk by calling Marco, and it was Stu’s fault.

  “What the fuck do you want?” I snapped, but it was pretty clear what they were here for.

  They wanted to beat the shit out of me. I’d embarrassed Stu in front of dozens of his classmates, and he couldn’t let that slide. I understood his need to save face, but I wasn’t interested in getting involved in this pissing contest. I’d seen enough violence to last a lifetime, and I didn’t care to kick his teeth in. He’d touched Ashlyn, but he’d paid for that when I humiliated him in front of the entire bar last night.

  “I want to kick your townie ass,” Stu sneered.

  So, he was an elitist dick as well as a misogynistic asshole. Great.

  “Fine.” I shrugged out of my leather jacket and tossed it aside. It would only get in the way. “You and me. Let’s go.” I sneered at him to rile his pride. “Or are you such a chickenshit that you need your boys to back you up?” I could take all three of them if I had to, but I didn’t want to resort to that level of brutality.

  Stu swallowed and swayed back a bit, but his expression quickly hardened, and he handed his own jacket off to one of his friends.

  “Okay. You and me, you townie piece of shit.”

  Back home, no one would have dared to talk to me that way. And I couldn’t deny that the insult stung a little. I’d much rather be a normal college student, but that life had been denied me.

  I wasn’t about to show this asshole any weakness, though. I simply stared at him coolly and waited for him to come to me. He hesitated, clearly unnerved by my calm demeanor. I could tell he wasn’t used to fighting. Not like I was. Fighting was in my past, in my blood. I’d been trying to escape from the relentless violence of my life, but I would call on my more ruthless nature to defend myself from this prick. He deserved to have his ass kicked, anyway. He’d touched Ashlyn. That was enough to make me see red.

  Stu came at me with a wild, sloppy swing. I dodged easily and moved in close to slam my fist into his gut. He dropped to one knee, wheezing.

  Unfortunately, his friends weren’t willing to let me finish him off that easily. Before I could ask if Stu had taken enough, one of his lackey’s fists connected with my jaw.

  Fuck. I should have been paying more attention. I was rusty, going soft after months of separation from my old life.

  I reeled back, and before I could get my bearings, another hit rattled my ribcage.

  The pain sharpened my focus rather than distracting me, and I moved with brutal precision. Stu was still down on his knees. I turned on the bigger of the two men still standing. He might have been tall, but he was skinny. Barely more than a boy, really. I almost felt bad when I broke his nose.

  Almost.

  He fell to the asphalt, clutching at his face and groaning. I turned to my last opponent, only to see him sprinting off across the parking lot, fleeing from me.

  Smart guy.

  I rubbed my aching jaw and winced at the contact. That was going to leave a bruise, and I had my date with Ashlyn in a few hours. I considered kicking Stu for that, but I wouldn’t hurt a man who was already down.

  “Are we done here?” I asked coldly.

  Stu nodded, unable to draw enough breath to form words. His friend was still moaning on the ground beside him.

  “I don’t want to see your face again,” I told him. “Don’t come back here.”

  He nodded again, and I decided I was satisfied with his defeat. I didn’t have to damage him further to make my point. The whole “fight” had lasted less than five minutes. I was pretty sure they understood that they couldn’t fuck with me.

  I picked up my jacket and walked to my car. Stu and his friend were still down as I pulled out of the parking lot.

  I pushed them from my mind, as well as ignoring the pain in my jaw and side. I’d dealt with much worse.

  Besides, it was easy to forget about the discomfort when I had my date with Ashlyn to look forward to.

  Chapter Four

  Ashlyn

  My heart stuttered when I opened the door to r
eveal Joseph waiting on my front stoop. His aquamarine eyes and cocky smile were as striking as ever, but they weren’t what caught my attention. A bruise darkened his jaw, marring his beauty with signs of violence.

  “Oh my god,” I exclaimed. “What happened?” I reached out to brush my fingers across the mark, careful not to apply pressure.

  He shrugged. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

  “That’s not what I asked,” I clarified. “I’m glad you feel fine, but I asked you what happened.”

  He blinked at me, then grinned.

  “What?” I demanded, not understanding his levity. He was hurt, and he was acting like it was nothing.

  “You’re not as shy as I thought,” he said, amusement coloring his tone.

  My cheeks heated. It wasn’t like me to be so assertive, but social awkwardness was one thing. Concern for his wellbeing was another.

  I lifted my chin. “So, are you going to tell me what happened, or not?”

  He chuckled. “Just a little misunderstanding with Stu.”

  My brows shot up. “A misunderstanding?” I hoped this wasn’t about me, but I wasn’t vain enough to ask that.

  Joseph nodded. “Stu thought he and his frat bro friends could beat me up. They were mistaken.”

  I softened. “But you’re hurt. Do you need to see a doctor or something?”

  His grin widened. “For this? I’ve had much worse. Like I said, I’m fine.” He reached out and took my hand in his. “I’d feel a lot better if you’d let me take you to dinner, though.”

  “But why did they try to beat you up?” I asked, even as I allowed him to lead me toward his car.

  He glanced down at me. “Do you really have to ask?”

  I blushed and cut my eyes away. I couldn’t believe men had fought over me. It was strange, and more than a little disconcerting.

  “I’m sorry you got hurt because of me.”

  He squeezed my hand gently, pulling my gaze back to his. “It wasn’t your fault. Stu chose to get angry. He made a stupid decision to try to save face after I embarrassed him at the bar. Besides, I’m barely bruised. I’m okay, really.”

  I gaped at him. How could he say that? I knew some men got into fights occasionally, but I wasn’t accustomed to casual violence.

  I decided not to press him on it. Maybe he was putting on a brave front, and I didn’t want to damage his ego by fussing over him. If he wanted to be all macho about defending my honor, I wouldn’t make him feel bad about it. In fact, it was kind of hot. I wasn’t happy that he’d been hurt, of course, but the idea of Joseph as my knight in shining armor was undeniably swoon-worthy.

  He ushered me to his car and opened the door for me, like a gentleman. The way his hands lingered around my body when he buckled my seatbelt wasn’t as gentlemanly. My pulse raced in response to his nearness.

  Too soon, he drew away and took his place on the driver’s side. He held my hand in his as he drove. The contact was casual, familiar; as though we’d done this hundreds of times. Being with him, having him touch me, felt as natural as breathing.

  To my surprise, we pulled into the parking lot of one of the nicest Italian restaurants in town a few minutes later. Delrio’s was known for its delicious—but expensive—Sicilian dishes, and even the wealthier students at Harvard didn’t make a habit of splurging there regularly.

  “Is this okay?” Joseph asked as he helped me out of the car.

  “You didn’t have to bring me here.” He didn’t need to throw money around to impress me, and I didn’t like thinking that he’d spend all his tips for the week on one dinner date with me.

  “They serve the best food in town,” he countered, waving away my concern. “I wanted to bring you here.”

  “Thank you.” I wasn’t really sure what else to say. I didn’t want to offend him by bringing up his salary, but I still wasn’t entirely comfortable with the extravagance of the venue. “I think I’m underdressed,” I said to cover the real reason for my tension. And truthfully, it was a genuine concern. I’d put on a pretty, cherry-red cashmere sweater, but I really should be wearing a dress rather than jeans.

  He smiled down at me as he opened the restaurant door. “You’ll be the most beautiful woman here. No one will care what you’re wearing.”

  I flushed, but I couldn’t drop my eyes from his burning, flame-blue gaze. No man had ever looked at me the way Joseph did: like he worshipped me but wanted to devour me at the same time.

  “You look nice, too,” I finally managed. He was even more dressed-down than I was, wearing his usual black shirt, leather jacket, dark jeans, and heavy black boots. But he was beautiful enough that he could easily be a model or movie star. No one would turn Joseph away from any venue, no matter what he was wearing.

  His lips curved with pleasure and a hint of amusement. “Thank you.”

  Our intimate moment was shattered when a pretty blonde server showed us to our table. Joseph didn’t so much as glance in her direction. It was as though he was transfixed on me, his full attention keen to the point that it should have been uncomfortable.

  I reveled in it, basking in the warm glow of his overt admiration. Not only was it an ego boost, but no one in my life—romantically involved or otherwise—had ever considered me with such rapt interest, as though they were trying to peer straight into my soul. It made me feel powerful and achingly vulnerable at the same time, and I was quickly becoming addicted to the sensation.

  When we got to our table, Joseph pulled out my chair for me. His gentlemanly behavior was at odds with his bad-boy sense of style, and the combination was enticing. I was definitely becoming infatuated far too quickly. But if I was honest with myself, I’d been a goner the moment our eyes first met across the bar all those weeks ago.

  Joseph ordered a glass of champagne for each of us, and the waitress didn’t even glance at me to assess my age. She only had eyes for Joseph, so she quickly nodded and rushed off to fulfill his order. It should have made me jealous, but the fact that he was still fully focused on me mollified any resentment I might have felt.

  “You didn’t have to get me champagne,” I said, still uncomfortable with the extravagance of the evening.

  He fixed me with a suddenly stern stare. “You keep telling me what I don’t have to do. I know I don’t have to. I want to do these things for you.”

  “Oh.” I hadn’t thought about it that way. I’d been feeling guilty every time he did something nice for me, because I wasn’t accustomed to being treated with such care and attention. “Thank you. I guess I’m just not used to it, is all.”

  His dark brows drew together. “You’re not used to people being nice to you?”

  I shifted in my seat. This was a deeper question than I’d anticipated. I really liked Joseph, but I wasn’t ready to trust so easily. No matter how badly I wanted to.

  “I’m just not used to so much attention.”

  He appeared surprised. “You can’t tell me men don’t fall at your feet all the time.”

  I practically squirmed in my chair, uncomfortable with such intense scrutiny. “I guess I just don’t spend that much time with boys.”

  He considered me for a moment, then nodded. “Well, I’m not a boy. I want to treat you how you deserve to be treated. You need to let me.”

  The last held the ring of command, but it didn’t bother me. If anything, his unyielding tone made it easier for me to agree. I could let go of my social anxiety and allow him to take care of me in the way he wanted.

  “All right,” I said, the agreement leaving my lips without a thought of protest.

  His dazzling grin hit me square in the chest, and I almost forgot how to breathe. “Good girl.”

  That seemed like an odd thing to say, but the words made something heat low in my belly.

  “I’m not a girl,” I managed, although there wasn’t any fire behind the assertion.

  His gaze blazed again, the candlelight catching in his pale blue eyes. “No, you’re not. Does it bother yo
u that I said it?”

  I considered for a moment, then decided to tell the truth. “No.”

  His cocky smile returned. “Excellent.”

  I didn’t understand why he seemed so pleased with my response, but his levity was catching, and I found myself grinning like a fool.

  Our champagne arrived, and Joseph ordered our meal without even glancing at the menu.

  When the waitress left, he focused on me. “I hope you don’t mind that I ordered for both of us. This is my favorite cuisine, and I want you to try a few things.”

  “I don’t mind,” I assured him, and I really didn’t. The feminist in me should probably be annoyed, but I liked that he wanted to share something he enjoyed with me. I craved to know more about him. “Have you been to Delrio’s before, then?”

  “A few times. My family owns a similar restaurant back home, and the food here is almost as good.”

  I leaned forward, latching onto the first real thing I’d learned about him. “Your family owns a restaurant? Where?”

  His expression shuttered, closing him off from me. “New York.”

  “Oh. So that’s home for you?” I fiddled with my napkin in my lap, my anxiety returning with his sudden distance.

  “Not anymore.” He blew out a heavy breath, and his smile returned. “I like it here, in Cambridge.”

  “What’s your favorite thing about living here?” I asked quickly, relieved that his tension had passed.

  He studied me with fresh hunger. “I should think that would be obvious. I got to meet you.”

  My breath caught in my throat. It was a startlingly intense thing to say, but it made my pulse race.

  “I’m glad I met you, too,” I said.

  He reached out and picked up his champagne glass, raising it for a toast. I mirrored his movement and touched my glass to his.

  “Cheers,” he said simply, but the toast felt much heavier than the lighthearted sentiment. We were drinking to celebrate the fact that we’d met. I tipped my glass back and allowed a generous sip of the bubbly liquid to coat my tongue. I was savoring more than the decadent flavor; I was relishing this moment with him. It seemed surreal that just last night, I’d doubted his interest in me. Already, I felt more bonded to him than I had to any other man, and we’d barely shared anything about ourselves. I wanted to know more about him, but he spoke first.