CHAPTER ONE
Breaking the Girl - CHAPTER ONE
Four years later - Present day
Click.
A key turns in the lock of the front door.
Marcus—err, Rylan's dad—is back home.
The door handle squeaks ever-so-lightly when he presses it down.
I hold very still on the couch next to my best friend. I probably look uncomfortable as hell. Frozen. No muscle moves as I stare straight ahead.
It's as if I've never been in their living room before.
Except I have. Throughout most of my life, I've been Rylan's friend. Best. Meaning I've spent many days and nights here. I should be used to Marcus's presence.
I had been used to him. Until puberty hit many, many years ago. Ever since, butterflies and excitement freeze me in place whenever he walks into a room. Those first seconds are always the hardest.
Moreover, since I've been sneaking to peek at him while he's in bed, which started sometime after my seventeenth birthday. Since I know what he looks like naked. Since I do the things I do while he thinks there's no one around.
My voyeuristic trips have gotten progressively worse over the past two months since we returned home from college. I've been sleeping over at the Kingstons' for the last three years now, ever since my dad got a new job and my parents moved to New York.
I tell myself it's okay. Remind myself our sleepovers here will be over next month when Ry and I move to the other side of the country. New York.
Technically, we should've left for Brooklyn by now. Should've settled into our new apartment together. The lease term starts this week.
I don't care about money when I get to stay here for another month.
Soon enough, real life will begin. I'll work long hours as an intern in a construction engineering company. Ry will hit the ground running as a quant analyst.
We'll have our new jobs, new friends. Parties to attend, hidden bars to uncover. We'll explore the good and bad and everything that has to do with adulting. Life will be perfect.
And though I wanted to be away from Marcus—away from the man I'll always want and could never have—I have to. For my sanity. For the sake of my friendship with Rylan.
I'll never tell her or anyone how hard I'm crushing on her father.
She hates being far from him as much as I do. Hated going to Texas for four years for this exact reason, except her dad insisted and she lives to please him.
This time around, Marcus didn't push us in that direction. It was Milo, Rylan's unrequited love subject. When he announced he'd go to med school in New York, she basically had no other choice but to join us there.
Reluctantly.
I get it. In a different way, but I do.
No more pool water cascading down Marcus's rippled abs. No more inhaling his cologne. No more sneaking glances at his angular jaw and wishing I could brush the pads of my fingers along his stubble.
No more sliding a hand down my panties in his doorway and—
Quiet, brain!
One footfall. A second one. The door closes.
"Hello," Dr. Marcus Kingston greets.
My heart skips a beat or two. Probably a thousand. His voice. Gah.
I'm trying to be less awkward, so I let my eyes flick to him. My breath catches in my throat. Dressed in a pair of dark-blue slacks and matching suit jacket, a white button-down shirt, he's a god.
His clothes accentuate every inch of his toned six-three frame. His tall and confident stance exudes silent, mesmerizing confidence.
Marcus's thick black hair doesn't betray his forty-one years on this planet. Nor does his wrinkle-free face. Even his short scruff is black.
And his black, intelligent, and interesting eyes. Sigh. They tell stories. It's obvious he's wise beyond his years. Even though I've been around here for as long as I can remember, I can tell things have happened to him. Things I'm not privy to.
The stories he must have. How interesting and wonderful and challenging they ought to be.
Too bad I'll never get to hear any of it.
Just as fast, I avert my gaze from him and to Rylan. Rylan's safe.
"Dad." She waves to him from the couch next to me. Her blue eyes sparkle, the afternoon sun casting golden shades onto her black hair. "You're home early."
"I am."
"Something wrong?" Rylan tilts her head, her expression darkening. "Are you going somewhere later?"
The steps of his dress shoes as he walks on the hardwood floors echo in the expansive living room area. Slow and calculated, unlike the erratic beats of my heart.
"No, Ry." It's not like him to ignore me. But Rylan does seem worried, so I understand. "My last patient for the day canceled his session."
"Oh, okay." A grin replaces her scowl. "Cool."
Marcus stops by Rylan's side of the couch, his large hand muffling her hair.
The gesture is sweet, but it also makes my stomach plummet to the floor. He treats her like a kid when she's actually twenty-two. Does he think I'm one as well?
He didn't seem to consider me as one four years ago, I think.
Ever since the incident in the bathroom, I've been praying for a repeat. For him to call me one day and ask me to go on a date or something. He would've told me I didn't imagine the explosive energy between us that day. I'd swoon.
Nothing like that has ever happened. Not even close.
Cold and distant with a rare smile every once in a really long while. That's how I'd describe his behavior toward me ever since.
Yeah, he definitely forgot about the most important moment of my life.
I'm a kid.
Except I'm not.
And I haven't forgotten a single moment of our encounter.
The feel of his finger on my lips won't go away. The darkening of his gaze haunts me wherever I go. His knuckles on my skin—
"Leighton." His deep voice calls my name. "I haven't said hello properly. I apologize. How are you?"
I'm still deep in my daydreams, imagining the filthy yet romantic things he could tell me in that voice.
Good girl, I hear his words from years back. Good girl.
"Leighton?" Rylan narrows her eyes at me.
I'm confused by the irritation on her face. My best friend smiles harder and brighter than anyone I've ever met. Every second of every day without fail.
Oh, shit. I'm the problem. I'm the one who's messed up, who's staring at her dad as if he's the most magical creature in the universe.
I've done my best to avoid doing just that for years. Kept my eyes off my best friend's dad whenever she was around.
Now, this. I'm the worst friend ever.
"Marcus." My lips stretch with a broad, fake smile. On the inside, I'm dying a humiliating, painful death at being caught. "Hi. I'm great, thanks. How was your day?"
He smirks. A small curve of his lips on his otherwise hardened face.
"Such good manners." Marcus repeats the same words he says nearly every day.
"What about me?" Rylan tugs on his hand, reciting the same question.
"You know I think the world of you, sweetheart." He tilts his head down, his smile sincere. "My favorite girl."
"And you're my favorite everything." She beams, her adoration for her dad seeping from her every pore.
They've always been like this. He's been showering her with affection—as much as Marcus is able to show—and she's been eager for every ounce of him that he has to offer.
Completely understandable, given their circumstances. Rylan doesn't have any other family. Her grandparents passed away a long time ago.
She's never had a mother or a mother figure around. The closest thing to a mom was Marcus's two girlfriends over the years when she and I were much younger.
Naturally, I'd been jealous of them. But I hoped they'd stayed longer than they had. It would've been good for Rylan to have another parent to love her. They hadn't. Both ghosted Marcus after a few short months of dating. After the second one, he gave up.
So, for over eight years, it's been just the two of them. No wonder she doesn't want to let go of him or her role as his child.
Hope blooms in my chest. This isn't a bad thing. Maybe there's a chance he can still see me as an adult. All he has to do is say the word, and I'm his. Rylan would grow to approve of us, I'm sure of that.
Delusional. The man doesn't want you. Get over yourself.
"Leighton." Marcus cuts through my thoughts, melting me into a puddle with his deep voice. "To your question."
"Yes?" Holy fuck, did I finally do it? Did I ask him to marry me while I'd been daydreaming?
"My day was good. Just like the rest of them. Thank you for asking."
Phew.No accidental marriage proposals.
"Would you two girls like me to cook, or do you prefer we order in?"
Girls. Ugh. The butterflies fluttering in my belly die a mortifying death.
Suck it up and move on, Leigh.
"It's your turn to choose, Ry," I direct the question to her, glad to focus on my best friend instead of her dad.
"Mmm." She taps a finger on her chin, smiling again. "Pizza while watching the first Halloween movie?"
Two of Marcus's least favorite. Both food and movie-wise. I'm not a huge pizza fan myself, but he really doesn't like it.
I know what his answer will be before it leaves his lips.
"I'll sit both out if that's okay." Marcus nods, patting her head again.
Rylan stands up, throwing her arms around his neck. Her cutoff jeans and pink T-shirt hike up her slim body when she does, though she doesn't seem to notice.
"What will you eat, Dad?" She pretends to sound sad.
I recognize the voice, and I chuckle inwardly. Now I get what's going on. She wants to talk to me about boys. About a boy. Without her dad listening in.
Her being upset wasn't about me ogling Dr. Kingston. Something happened with Milo.
Thank God.
"Don't worry about me." He rubs on her back and then pulls away. Marcus heads to their open kitchen, placing his messenger bag on the counter. "I'll choose between the leftovers from the organic place Leighton ordered from yesterday or the Italian from the day before that in the study."
Eep. He likes the food I ordered.
Another praise I'm misinterpreting. Because it's just food. Just. Food.
"Good choice, by the way, Leighton."
"Thanks." I tuck my hair behind my ear, hating how high-pitched my voice sounds.
It's hard to talk when I'm choked by my own misguided emotions.
Rylan's gaze sears me another time today. I don't look at her, but I feel the burn. The resentment.
When I twist my gaze to her, I'm proven wrong. All I'm faced with is her sweet smile.
Fuck, I've spent way too many hours in the sun today. First, I imagine that Marcus likes me, then that she hates me? I'm losing it.
Rylan doesn't hate me. She can't. She's my bestie. My ride or die. My sister from another—thank fuck for that—mister.
Another reason why I'm being a total dick, crushing on her father the way I do.
It's more than a crush.
Useless. It's absolutely useless to think about it.
For the time being. I'll wait for tonight when Rylan sneaks out to another one of her hacking competitions to get my fix. I'll be better tomorrow.
Less horny and hence less starry-eyed.
"I'm a little dehydrated," I whisper to Rylan. "Could you get me some water while I order us pizza and put the movie on?"
I don't want Marcus overhearing me say yes and getting me water himself. He'd do that. He has done that in the past. He's old-school like that. Hot like that. But Rylan didn't like it. She'll hate it even worse today, if the way she's acting is any indication.
"Hey, you okay?" Rylan presses the back of her hand to my forehead. My sweet friend, concerned about me zoning out. "You're hot. Damn. I should've noticed this earlier. I'm so sorry for not getting you a drink, Leigh."
"Leighton?" Marcus lifts his head from his phone.
"It's my fault." I ignore him, whispering to Rylan with a small, reassuring smile on my face. "I'm a big girl. I shouldn't have neglected it after I fell asleep by the pool."
"This blame game could last forever. I'll get you water." Rylan winks at me, trotting off to the kitchen to get me the water. "Tomorrow, I'm watching you like a hawk, girlie."
When she returns, she places a chilled water bottle in my hand.
"Thanks." I pop the cap off the bottle and watch her return to her dad's side.
In the kitchen, she and Marcus talk some more in hushed voices. The fridge opens and closes, and I turn my eyes fixed on the television, putting Halloween on.
I'm dying to sneak glances in their direction. Especially when the sound of a jacket being shrugged off fills my ears. When I picture Marcus rolling up the sleeves of his shirt up his corded forearms.
Instead, I grab my phone from the end table at my other side, go on the food app, and order us pizza.
That's the friendly thing to do.
The only thing I can do.
I was right to assume Rylan needed to talk boys.
Once her dad went up to his study—holding the organic takeover container from the order I placed yesterday—she started gushing over Milo Bauer.
My face betrayed nothing while she told me how she believed that this year would be the year. The year he'll ask her out.
I smiled when she explained in great detail how it only made sense that he hadn't made a move until now. His pre-med school had been intense. He didn't have time for a serious relationship. This year, though, he'd have more time. This year, he'd ask her out.
Having to sit there, nod, and lie to my best friend was pure torture. My chest constricted and my mouth dried. My body was burdened by the bitter truth.
Pre-med and school, my ass.
Milo hadn't been preoccupied with school.
It'd been me that stopped him from asking Ry out.
I became aware of his unwanted feelings one day during our junior year in high school. Milo dragged me into an empty classroom. Admitted that he was in love with me. Wanted to marry me.
The answer I gave Milo was a definite no.
As handsome as he was with his blond, perfectly styled hair and bright blue eyes, Milo Bauer had never been the one for me. My heart had been beating for another man for years. I refused to settle for anyone else.
I also refused to betray my best friend. She'd been in love with Milo for as long as I'd been crushing over her dad. I'd always choose her over Milo. Over anyone.
He said he'd never stop trying, and I got mad. I told him I wouldn't change my mind. Threatened him not to try to get to me through Rylan. Said that if he'd try, I'd never speak to him again. That it'd embarrass me to tell both I wasn't into him again and again.
Granted, it was an excuse. I didn't tell him she was in love with him. She'd made me swear I wouldn't say a word, and I kept my mouth shut.
Ever since, both Milo and I continued exactly like this. He'd chased me. Applied to the same college Ry and I had. Cornered me and begged to give him a chance every other month.
No, Milo,were the two words I'd been repeating.
I hadn't stopped there. I'd done everything to push Ry in another guy's direction. She was gorgeous and her smile was mesmerizing. Men and boys alike chased her.
She always had her sights set on freaking Milo, who treats her like nothing more than a friend. At least he doesn't lead her on.
That's the heavy burden I carry with me every day. This bitter truth.
Thankfully, I don't have to lie anymore tonight. Rylan snuck out about an hour ago.
And I get to have a few stolen moments with him.
Dr. Kingston.
Just the mention of his name in my head has wetness pooling between my thighs.
This late at night, my inhibitions tend to lower. My subconscious becomes a demanding voice in my head.
I'm able to tell myself things I'd never dare to admit to myself in broad daylight.
My crush on Marcus isn't a crush.
What I feel for him is an obsession.
Which is the force that pushes me off Ry's bed, like I have many times in the past four years.
My feet land silently on the thick, pink carpet, and I tiptoe my way out of the empty room.
Silence prevails from the other side of the door as I press my ear to it. No Marcus walking around the house or talking over the phone to a colleague or a patient. Silence.
I peek out of the door and hear the dull sound of music coming from his room. The stalker that I am, I know it means he's either about to fall asleep or he jerks off.
Both options excite me. Both turn me on.
Desire has me slipping out the room toward him. I wonder what songs he's playing tonight. Whether he's shirtless or not. If I'll get to see streaks of silver moonbeams illuminating his corded arms. His sculpted chest. The sexy angles of his jaw.
What I don't have to wonder about is the tattoo of Rylan's birthdate. Marcus inked it to the arm closer to the window, sparing me from rubbing one—or many—out with the constant reminder of my best friend while I do.
I'll only see him.
Only him.