Damaged Beyond Repair by Kashmira Kamat (KittyKash) (best short books to read TXT) 📗

He was asking for his ticket to the Rowan exploration.

I nodded in agreement. In one swift move, he peeled off my shirt and chucked it on the floor, hooking a finger on the bra strap--- he clicked it open. Rowan’s confident hands and expert moves were screaming at me, telling me, he had clicked open more bras than I had opened soda cans. The thought was depressing if nothing else. What the hell was I expecting from a twenty-seven year old, expertise in peeling bananas?

Just when he was ready to fondle my babies, the vibrating phone lying on the coffee table broke the trance. I reached out for it, but the manlier arm beat me to it. He scanned the message without a word and handed it to me or more like pushed it in my hands with a little too much force then necessary.

Chez- I’m leaving for the Demon’s Bolt at 9, will you go with me?

Last thing I wanted was for Rowan to think I was some wasted chick hanging out at Demon’s Bolt, which was the latest reputed club in town. Reputed for all the wrong reasons, is what I forgot to add. So if you were up for some one-night stands and mindless make-out or perhaps a few drugs in your system, Demon’s bolt was just the heaven for all of it.

Rowan picked up my shirt and tossed it towards me, reaching for his own.

Way to kill the mood Alana!

I sat up as I clicked the phone shut. I wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders, but he kept staring into space, like I wasn’t even sitting right next to him, half naked. He wiggled out my arms, stood up and made his way towards a little mini-bar in the rear corner of the living area. He grabbed for a Johnny Walker Blue and poured himself a glass.

“Rowan...” I still stood in my bra and jeans.

I had no idea he drank. Then again, what else did I know about this man, other than something about his family and the fact that he was my professor in the university. Realization hit me like a damn golf bat.

I didn’t know who he was.

“Go have fun with your friends.” He downed the drink in a swing, “Don’t sit and waste your time with me.”

He was mad again, and I didn’t have a damn clue why.

“Look, if it’s about Demon’s Bolt, then I’m not going there.”

Which was true. I had no intentions of boozing or partying until morning the way Chez wanted to. Even if I did, I didn’t, now. Not after getting the silent treatment from my brooding and likely deranged boyfriend.

“I’m not stopping you. There’s no harm in having a little fun.”

I’d be humpty dumpty if I hadn’t heard the sarcasm in his voice.

“Y’know, I can hear the sarcasm literally drip.”

“You can, huh?” he was no more the Rowan who’d been pinning me down on the couch.

“You just have to say ‘Don’t go’. Is that so hard?”

“Would you have listened?” he downed another glass.

“Of course.” I couldn’t believe I was letting a guy push me.

“Then don’t go.” He said simply.

“I won’t.”

As if I’d switched his cheerful button again, he smiled.

“I didn’t know you drink.”

“I do, occasionally.” He never said anything after that or even after I was done dressing up or after I had picked my bag and started to leave.

“Will you answer my calls now?” I asked him.

“Sure.” he said that without a glance towards me, he seemed too busy enjoying the sunset outside when just a while ago he seemed more curious to get in my pants. The more I tried solving the Rowan Riddle, the more I got messed in it.

I could freaking pick on the bottom line in the end, which said. ‘Get him mad and you’re doomed.