Love Rewritten Page 4

  “You done with Britney?” I tease, saying her name like I’m a valley girl.

  “I was done with that girl this morning. She was getting clingy like a deflowered virgin after prom night.”

  “Oh yeah?” I smile at just what an asshole my brother can be. “And was she a virgin?” I start to walk down the street, back towards my apartment since Xander lives in the building next to ours. This whole area is a big loop, so if I stay on the street, it will eventually wind its way around back to our buildings.

  He snorts. “Definitely not. That girl is a freak. She wanted me to—”

  “Enough,” I cut him off quickly, not wanting to hear anything about my brother having sex. He knows this, which is exactly why he likes to bait me.

  “So,” Aubrey says in a way that is anything but casual, and I know what’s coming next. My eyes scan the store fronts as I pass them, glancing at the people walking by. The soles of my sneakers slap against the hard concrete of the sidewalk. “Brandon Kessler, eh?”

  I sigh, because I know I have to tell him something otherwise he’ll be relentless. “He asked me out for coffee, so I went.”

  “I know that already, Abby. Xander told me that much.”

  I laugh. “Then why the hell are you asking me about it?”

  “Because I want to know why Mr. Superstar Jock asked you out and even more so, I want to know why you said yes? He’s hardly your type.”

  I walk around an elderly couple who are walking slower than dirt in front of me, stalling for an answer, because if I’m being honest with myself, I don’t really know why I said yes to him.

  “We talked once at a party a few years back,” though I don’t remember it, I don’t add, “and he said he was bummed that we never got to again.” I smile thinking about that. “He’s cute, so I said yes. It doesn’t have to be everything you’re making it to be, Aub.”

  “No, it doesn’t. But somehow, I think it is. Xander made it sound like he was all over you.” I groan inwardly, but chose not to say anything to that. “Are you going out with him again?” His voice suddenly sounds cautious and I know this is where his brotherly protective thing comes in to play.

  No one is ever good enough for me in his eyes.

  Aubrey is usually terrible to the guys I date, way ruder to them than Xander is to me.

  “Yes. He asked me out to dinner sometime this week. Said he’d call about it.” I shift the phone to my other ear, using my free hand to adjust the strap on my bag that is insistent on digging into my shoulder.

  I hear a huff of air into the phone making a static sound in my ear.

  “You just don’t seem like his type, but maybe I’m wrong about that. Maybe he’s getting bored with the dumb blonde thing and wants someone with a bit more . . . edge.”

  I laugh at that.

  “Nice Aub. Smooth even.” I’m coming up upon Xander’s building so I pause, loitering on the sidewalk just off to the side of the main doors.

  “You know what I mean,” he says conciliatorily, but his tone is still one of concern. “I just don’t like it.”

  “You never do. Listen, I’m at Xander’s place because someone used my computer and refuses to allow me to just email him. Now I have to physically give him your half of the work.”

  “Yes, you do. And I will not apologize for it.” He chuckles to himself. “I’ll see you later. You cooking for me tonight?”

  “It’s Tuesday, so yes.”

  “Awesome. Later.” He hangs up on me and I feel like I dodged something, but I know better than to think that he won’t push me for more information on Brandon later. The real question is, what am I going to tell him when I’m not even sure myself?

  CHAPTER 4

  I PRESS DOWN ON THE small square button for Xander’s apartment that makes an annoying buzzing sound, waiting patiently for a total of six seconds before the glass door clicks with the automatic unlock of the latch. Pushing through the door, it shuts quickly and heavily behind me, leaving me in the small vestibule between the two entry doors that houses the mailboxes. The door clicks again, so I pull down on the thin level bringing the door towards me this time.

  Whomever designed these buildings was clearly a moron, because if someone is entering the building from the outside and another person is leaving from the other door, the two doors bang together.

  Nice, huh?

  I walk into the cool, dimly lit hallway going directly to my left towards the stairs instead of to the right for the elevator. The elevators in these buildings are notoriously slow and since Xander lives on the third floor, I rarely use it.

  My shoes echo on the metal tipped stairs as I jog my way up. I rap my knuckles on the door, but before I can get the third knock off, the door flies open. Xander is standing there with a completely impassive expression, his cobalt blue eyes staring directly at my right cheek. He makes it a rule to never look me in the eye, but instead goes for my cheek, which to someone who is not paying attention, makes it seem like he’s looking at me.

  But I do pay attention so I know that he’s not.

  And yeah, that stings.

  His dark hair, that’s longer on top and buzzed around the sides and back, looks like he’s been running his fingers through it. Xander is tall and lean, but all muscle since he works out like a fiend. His jaw is lined nicely with just enough stubble that a woman would kill to run her palm up it just to experience the bristles against her skin. He even has that damn cleft in the center of his chin like Superman and Batman do. In fact, now that I think on this, he may resemble a bad boy Superman a little too closely. His green, long-sleeved concert tee clings to him in an unintentional, but sexy way.

  Yes, I admit it, Xander is ridiculously hot, but his personality fucks that all up.

  “Hi,” I say with my best attempt at a smile, as I walk past him, not waiting for him to invite me in, knowing that he won’t. His apartment is very similar to mine, only not as nice and his is a two bedroom instead of three. There is a large living room straight ahead and the open kitchen off to the right, that is separated from the living room by a half wall that also doubles as a breakfast bar.

  Xander lives with Gavin, who he was a suite-mate with freshman year along with Aubrey. Xander and Aubrey shared a room, which is how they met. Much the way that Nina and I met. But Gavin isn’t here very much. He spends all of his time with Grace, his girlfriend since freshman year. Actually, I introduced the two of them because Grace is also one of my besties.

  I walk into the living room, navigating my way around the old wooden and heavily stained coffee table that is far too big for the sofa it sits in front of. I plop myself down on the couch, dropping my bag onto the table gently with a dull thud. Xander comes over and sits down next to me, making sure to leave plenty of space between us. I unzip the large compartment and pull out my laptop, handing it over to him.

  “Here.”

  He nods, but doesn’t offer anything else. You’d think by now that I’d be used to the way he treats me, but I’m not. We weren’t always like this, and I have trouble not thinking about that when I’m with him. Hoping that he somehow remembers that I’m not as terrible as he clearly believes me to be.

  I don’t know why he thinks this way about me.

  I’ve never asked, and he’s certainly never offered.

  He starts typing away on my computer after he unlocks it. The fact that he knows my password makes me smile.

  It is hotgirl21, after all.

  “Thanks for telling Aubrey about my having coffee with Brandon,” I say, slightly amused that he tattled on me to my brother.

  Xander shrugs a shoulder. “Just thought he would like to know that you were getting played by a jock.” His tone is casual as hell, though his words are anything but. He doesn’t even look away from my screen as he says them, like whatever he’s doing is far more important than insulting me.

  His fingers fly across the touch pad mouse, clicking things here and there, no doubt trying to locate the mystery file.<
br />
  “I’m not getting played by a jock,” I say a little too defensively, shifting on the couch so that my body is angled towards him, my face boring into the side of his. “We had coffee, that’s it. He’s a nice guy.”

  Xander snorts at the absurdity of my words as he shakes his head, his eyes skirting me quickly before bringing his attention back to the computer.

  “You know, I never really thought you were one of those slutty girls until now, but maybe I was wrong about that. I’ve been wrong before when it comes to you.”

  I jerk back in response like he just slapped me across the face, which it sort of feels like he did. My hands fly up to my chest, trying to hold in my now racing heart as my cheeks flame red.

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I’m so shocked that I can’t even elaborate.

  “It means,” he clips, finally turning to look at me. Anger seethes in his eyes before he reins it in and his expression turns back to impassive. “If you want to go and get yourself used up by the whole lacrosse team, be my guest. I could care fucking less, but your brother happens to be my best friend and he will care.”

  My head whips away from him, glancing towards the open window. Indignation prickles my skin, a burning sensation stings the tip of my nose and behind my eyes.

  I will not cry in front of this asshole. I will not.

  “Why—” I start but have to clear the lump in my throat before I can speak. “Why do you do that to me, Xander?” I turn back to him, but he’s not even looking at me. His eyes are staring off seemingly at nothing. “Why do you like hurting me so much?”

  “I don’t care enough about you to try and hurt you.” His voice is quiet, distant and maybe a little puffed up, like he’s trying to prove this to himself as much as me. Or maybe that’s just my pathetic attempt at hope here.

  I suck in a rush of air, gasping as I do. I feel like the wind just got knocked out of me. I knew he didn’t like me. I knew he may even hate me, but for some reason, the thought of him not caring at all, breaks me.

  I don’t say anything back to him, because, what can I say back?

  Without crying at least.

  There really is no argument when someone tells you that they don’t care about you at all. That their harsh words are from indifference rather than antagonism. I can’t sit here with him anymore. If I do, I’ll lose it.

  “Excuse me,” I whisper, getting up and rushing past him, heading straight for his bathroom and slamming the door when I get in there.

  Surprisingly, the bathroom smells like Clorox, the old blue-and-white tiled floors and walls are sparkling and the counter is void of products of any kind.

  I close the lid of the toilet and sit down on top of it. Bending forward, with my elbows on my thighs, I cover my face with my hands, sucking in deep breath after deep breath. In through my nose and out through my mouth in a slow rhythm, similar to what I use when I do yoga.

  I will not cry over him.

  I need to calm myself down, and I can’t seem to think of another way to get that job done. Why didn’t I just tell him to fuck off? That would have been so much better than hiding in here like a scorned little girl.

  I have no idea how long I sit like this, but I finally manage to stand up and walk over to look at myself in the mirror. I look normal. Not even my mascara is smudged.

  Good.

  I turn towards the door, taking the two steps and opening it before walking back out into the hallway. I hear the clicking of computer keys as I round the corner to see Xander sitting in exactly the same position as before, looking as unfazed as ever.

  Fine. This is how it’s going to be. I can do indifference too.

  God, that makes me feel petulant, but whatever.

  I brush past his knees and sit back down, leaning my body back against the lumpy, worn brown cushion.

  “Abby—” Xander starts as he shifts towards me, something I cannot discern etched on his far too handsome face.

  I put up my hand to stop him before he can say anything. “Don’t. Please.” I shake my head, still holding my hand out towards him. “I think you’ve said enough, and frankly,” I sigh lowering my hand to my thigh, “I’m not in the mood to hear anymore. Just finish up so I can go.”

  He nods, his eyes slightly downcast, before closing the computer and handing it back to me. I wordlessly take it, and stuff it back into my bag. Standing, I lift it, adjusting it on my shoulder before walking past him yet again, this time for the door.

  “I’ll see you tonight then.” Xander’s reluctant voice stops me just as my hand reaches the doorknob. “I’m coming for Tuesday dinner,” he explains to my back since I won’t turn to face him.

  Fucking Aubrey had to invite him to our dinner night.

  “See you then.”

  “I didn’t mean it.” I swear I hear him mutter it. I swear I do, but when I turn around, he’s not even looking in my direction. Apparently, I’m hearing things now.

  I turn the handle and walk through the door, shutting it behind me without another word. I hate the idea of cooking for Xander after what just happened back there. And even though I know I have to suffer him regularly because of Aubrey, I was hoping for a bit more time before that happened again.

  I burst through the doors and back out into the cold afternoon sun. I have class soon, but I find myself walking back towards my apartment instead of campus. I’m hungry and just not in the mood to listen to a boring sociology class that I’ve put off taking since I started here. I walk the fifty or so feet over feet over to my building and before I know it, I’m unlocking my front door.

  Mercifully it’s quiet. Aubrey’s at class so I have the place to myself.

  Opening up the fridge, I take out peanut butter and jelly and go about making myself a sandwich.

  I was going to make lasagna, salad and garlic bread tonight, which just happens to be Xander’s favorite meal. I’m regretting that decision now that I know he’s coming, but I already have everything I need for it, so I guess it’s too late. The bastard certainly doesn’t deserve the awesomeness that is my lasagna.

  I stuff a bite of my sandwich into my mouth, chewing slowly as I take out my phone to hate text Nina about Xander when my phone pings a text in my hand.

  Brandon.

  This makes me smile way more than it should, especially after Xander’s comments about me getting played and used.

  Brandon: I realize I should be playing it cool, but I can’t seem to stop thinking about you. How do you feel about dinner on Thursday night? I have a practice every night but Thursday, and I have a game on Saturday.

  Me: I can do that. Oh, and if it helps, I don’t like playing games.

  Brandon: Me either. So, can I pick you up at 6:30?

  Me: That should work.

  Brandon: Thursday can’t seem to come fast enough.

  Me: :)

  I smile as I set my phone on the counter, hoisting my body up onto it, swinging my legs back and forth over the side as I finish my sandwich. As I think back on the day, I have to admit that Brandon is a bit off. Not him as a person per se, just him wanting to date someone like me.

  And how odd is it that he waited two years to talk to me again if we did hit it off the way he said we did? I mean, yeah, I don’t have classes with him and I don’t really go to the parties that he attends, but we do go to the same school. It’s not exactly like he made any sort of effort to find me, did he?

  As much as I despise allowing these thoughts to wander into my brain, maybe Aubrey and Xander are right?

  Could Brandon’s sudden pursuit just be an attempt to get me in bed, or to make a fool out of me somehow? Am I some sort of challenge or dare? You hear about shit like that happening at the frats.

  Guys placing bets that he can’t get so-and-so girl into bed.

  In truth, I’ve never dated anyone like him. I usually tend to stick to men whom I have more in common with. Not being the kegger or Greek row type, I prefer smaller, more intimate get-togethers
or going out to a bar or a show.

  And so do my friends for the most part, though Nina does enjoy a party every once in a while, especially when she’s single and looking for a hookup.

  So, what does this mean I should do?

  Are they right and I’m stupid for allowing myself to get played?

  I shake my head to myself.

  No, I’m not, I decide. It’s one date and by no means do I plan on sleeping with him on said date.

  I’ll concede that he was a bit touchy-feely considering we’d officially just met.

  But he’s also cute and nice and did not give me the creepy vibe once.

  “Screw it. I’m going,” I say aloud, before hopping off the counter and getting the stuff I need to make my homemade sauce out of the cabinets and fridge, feeling content and resolved on my decision.

  CHAPTER 5

  I HEAR KEYS RATTLING IN the lock on the front door, seconds before it flies open to Aubrey and Xander laughing at something. I spent the rest of the afternoon cooking and listening to music. I open the app on my phone and turn down the sound on the Bluetooth speaker because I have it blasting a little too loud right now.

  “Good timing,” I call out, setting down my phone and putting on my skull-and-crossbones oven mitts. Pulling down the door to the oven, I slide out the bubbling hot cheesy lasagna, placing it on top of the stove.

  “Fuck that smells good. I’m freaking starving.” Aubrey comes into the kitchen, hovering by the fridge so he doesn’t get in my way. Aubrey and I both cook, but I’m better at it than he is by far, so Tuesday dinner night has always been my thing. Aubrey is more of a breakfast guy, even if he was off his game this morning.

  “Grab a bottle of wine, will ya? And tell your lover that if he’s going to crash Tuesday dinner, the least he can do is set the table.” I turn to face Aubrey who’s smirking at me like he knows something I don’t.

  I hate that look.

  “I can hear you, sweetheart, no need to go through my boy toy here,” Xander says seconds before walking into the kitchen and smacking Aubrey on the back hard, earning him a glare.