Truly Madly Deeply (Forbidden Love, #1)

by L.J. Shen

McMonster: I don’t have a girlfriend. oBITCHuary: Boyfriend? McMonster: No. oBITCHuary: ANY kind of sexual/intimate partner? McMonster: The answer is no. oBITCHuary: Same for me. McMonster: I know. We’ve discussed it. oBITCHuary: Why are you single? Haven’t found the right girl yet? McMonster: Oh, I found her. oBITCHuary: Then what is the problem? McMonster: Only one of us fell. oBITCHuary: Wow. I cannot imagine not falling for someone like you. Silly girl. McMonster: That’s the worst part, though. McMonster: She isn’t silly at all. She is fucking brilliant.

Well, well, well. If it wasn’t the consequences of my fucking actions. I was breaking out in fucking hives. And why wouldn’t I be? I was allergic to Cal Litvin—and about to spend a whole lot of time with her. All because of Rhy, that thundercunt, who’d decided to make a point. If money was what she needed, I could’ve written her checks to keep her away. Yet here I was, about to pick Cal up for her first shift at the restaurant because Little Miss Broke Ass didn’t have a bike to her name, let alone a car.

“Where’s Dylan and what’s-her-face?” I peered around. “Upstairs. Making excited, giggly sounds again.” Mom couldn’t contain her grin as she perched her arm on the stairway handrail, looking up. “I guess Dylan forgave her for whatever she did, huh?” “Guess so.” I hadn’t, though, and my grudge was as big as my cock. Once upon a time, I was in love with Calla Litvin. She had broken my heart in two. Whether she had done it knowingly or klutzily didn’t matter. I wasn’t letting her anywhere near that organ again.

What the fuck? I wasn’t going to let this woman-child hurt my unborn niece. I banged the door open with my fist without knocking. “Get the hell away from my sis—” Both of their heads flew up in unison. They were sitting on the bed. My sister had one breast in Cal’s hand—covered by Cal, thank fuck—little plastic shot cups scattered everywhere around them. “Sweet Jesus, Row!” Dylan quickly shimmied her shirt down, protecting her modesty. “I’m not decent!” “Unfortunately, that’s not new.” I screwed my fingers into my eye sockets. “Hey, Row,” Cal chirped. “Hey, pain in the ass.” “You’re twenty minutes early.” Cal raised one clear shot cup, squinting at it. So now it was a crime to be punctual? “Why were you trying to murder my sister’s breast?” I glowered at Cal. The tips of her hair were pink now, which probably meant she was feeling somewhat hopeful. Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m about to rectify that situation quickly.

“I’ll have you know I tried to squeeze colostrum for the baby so that when she arrives, she’ll have all the nutritious goodness.”

“Squeezing colostrum is basically bullying your boobs until they cry.” “Too much info.” I brought a palm up, shaking my head. “Too little alcohol in the world to erase the mental image. Dot, grab your shit. We’re leaving.”

Cal hopped up to her feet, bending down to pick up her backpack, giving me an eyeful of her ass. I redirected my gaze to the ceiling, fighting a blush. My sister barked out a laugh. I hated everyone and everything. Fuck my life. I should not be affected by this woman’s small, unremarkable ass when I had supermodels throwing themselves at me on the reg.

ROW

there was some kind of Backstreet Boys special, so she was dancing in her seat, pointing at me every time she belted out the lyrics. She was a little ball of sunshine, and I was a big, gray cloud that wanted to piss acid rain on her parade.

“Hey. I’m just looking out for you.” She sounded genuine. But if that were the case, she wouldn’t have broken my fucking heart all those years ago. It annoyed the crap out of me that she was now contaminating my new Silverado. I’d had to get rid of the Mustang a couple years back because her white-musk-and-apples stench had been engraved into the seats. Now, here I was, surrounded by her scent again.

“You chose callas for flowers.” Her eyes smiled right along with her lips. She picked purple and white flowers from one of the vases on a table, bringing the petals to her nose. “Aren’t they the most beautiful thing in the world?” No. Not even close. I swallowed. “They’re devastatingly toxic,” I drawled. “Reminds me of someone, actually.” “It’s probably going to be sad, saying goodbye to this place.” She ignored my snark, looking around. “Nothing will trump the happiness of not seeing you again,” I maintained.

I threw a batch of keys into her hands. “But it’s not worth the effort. Go to the back office and get changed into your uniform.” Cal glared at the dozens of keys resting in her palm. “Which one is it?” “Your guess is as good as mine.” “Row, there are, like, thirty keys here!” Her cheeks stained red. I hated being an asshole to her, but it had to be done. I couldn’t let her worm her way back into my heart. Not even my dick. She was danger, and anyway, I was best alone. “Forty-four. Better get goin’.”

A muscle jumped in my jaw. “Do you want this job or not?” Her tic returned in full force. Blink, blink, blink. She tried to control it by averting her gaze to the ceiling. “I’m starting to rethink it.” “That’s a surprise.” I just couldn’t shut up apparently. “Thinking was never your strong suit.”

Cal’s voice drifted into my mind. “I’m starting to rethink it.” Normally, I didn’t mind being a dick to people. But with her, I cared. She didn’t like men for whatever reason. She might not like me, but at least she wasn’t scared of me. Though that was about to change if I continued acting like a dickhead.

“Tastes like ass to me.” She hated me. Why wouldn’t she? I had spent every moment since she’d gotten back reminding her I hated her. My fingers tripped over the knife, almost dropping it. I cursed softly. It didn’t help that I couldn’t look directly at her. That her existence was a stench I couldn’t un-smell. She was here now, not only in my territory but deep inside my head. Running circles in her little boots. I was just not used to having her in my vicinity. I’d get over my weird fixation in the next few weeks. Maybe even days. You’ve gotten over her. She’s the past. But if that was the truth, why didn’t I tell her I was McMonster? My suspicion Cal was oBITCHuary had been confirmed the day she’d told me she was back in Staindrop. I’d put two and two together. And still, I didn’t fess up. A sharp pain ripped through my forefinger. Shit. Blood oozed from my index, a thin river of crimson snaking along the cutting board.

It was the first time I had cut myself in the kitchen in over a decade. And it was a great reminder of what I already knew. When Cal was around, I bled.

Rhy glided into my kitchen armed with his iPad, going over inventory mid-shift. I grabbed him by the collar and dragged him over to the kitchen window, drawing petrified looks from my employees. “Rhyland,” I seethed. “Ambrose.” He was entirely unaffected by my behavior, even giving me his I-know-you’re-having-a-terrible-time smirk. “I see you’re in a good mood.” “I’ll be in a better one once you explain yourself. What the fuck am I looking at?” I pointed at Cal through the partition. She fluttered around the room, a colorful butterfly flapping its wings. She landed at a table with two businessmen who eyed her like she was fucking dessert—and seemed to be in the middle of a fervent conversation with them.

“The subject of your desire?” Rhyland braced an elbow on the windowsill. “What. Is. She. Doing?” “What you should be doing.” He grabbed a cherry tomato from a nearby bowl, popping it in his mouth. “Working.” “She’s making a spectacle of herself. Look at her.” One of the businessmen sat back and clapped. Like she was a circus monkey. A dark flame kindled in my chest, urging me to dismember him like a lobster. Rhyland shoved his head in the wide slit of the window, scratching his golden stubble. “I’m seeing a woman so lovable she just got tipped four Benjamins and refused to part ways with them when I explained to her we use a tip pool. Things almost got physical.” “But then you remembered I’d pelt you head to toe, turn you upside down, and stuff your inner organs with wasabi if you so much as lay a finger on her.” His grin widened. “You’re so good at not loving her. Highly convincing.” “Shut up.”

“Point is, people respond to her. She is personable, knows the entire menu by heart—cocktails and wine included—and never keeps customers waiting. Don’t worry about her. She’s doing great.”

“These fecal matters are looking down her shirt.” A muscle in my jaw twitched. “The uniform is a turtleneck.” Rhyland’s brow knitted in confusion. I ignored him. “Throw them out.” “Row, you can’t start beefing with anyone who sniffs around Cal’s ass.” What a ridiculous thing to say. Of course I could.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I asked, “What do you want?” Rhy smoothed out his suit, looking at me like I was an abandoned, drenched puppy. “Thought it was gonna be funny, but now I see the error of my ways. I may have stepped out of the Overton window, strong-arming you into hiring Cal. I wanted to make a point, and I made it. Since I now found replacements for Heather and Don—” “We’re not firing her.” My nostrils flared.

“You can’t concentrate for shit,” Rhyland said matter-of-factly. “She demonstrated the ‘Macarena’ out there at some point.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “She’s like a car accident. Hard to look away from but horrifying, nonetheless. Just because she’s got my attention doesn’t mean that it’s positive. I’m over her.” “Over her, my ass. Every time she bends over, you look like you need a cigarette. Look, I can give her a backend job. We need someone to do the filing, anyway. You’ll never see he—” “She’s a decent server. You said so yourself, right?” Rhy pursed his lips, his expression uncertain. “She’s a highly endearing individual. Like, the human answer to a unicorn. This can’t be news to you.” “She’s still off-limits,” I barked out. He raised his palms up. “Hey, no problem there. I’m not ready for children yet, and she definitely is one. I’m worried, though.” “Why?” “You give her too much power over you.”

A knock on the door was followed by Taylor sticking his head inside. “Chef?” “What?” “Are you getting rid of our new server?” I clenched and unclenched my fists. Was there anyone in this zip code who didn’t want to get into Cal’s pants? “No. Why?” “Because the entire kitchen loves her. I think she is singing an Adele song to one of the patrons.” Taylor beamed. “Using a baguette as a microphone.”

ROW

“We need to talk.” “Why?” she moaned. “We get along so much better when we don’t.” “We get along best on different continents,”

“Please don’t fire me. I just earned thirteen hundred bucks in tips and I think I might actually be able to afford renting some recording equipment when I get back to New York. I could finally start my business. I’ve been dreaming of starting a podcast since I wa—” “Slow your roll, Little Miss Crapshine. One, I’m not gonna fire you. Two, I don’t care what you do with the money you earned. Waste it, burn it, donate it to Satanists in need. If we’re gonna work together, we need to set up some ground rules, though.” “Oh.” She sat back, nibbling on the skin around her nail. “Sure.”

Her hair was tangled in disarray. Pink tips framed her face. Her cheeks matched them in color, and she looked so thoroughly fucked all I could think about was laying her down on my truck bed and fucking every single hole in her body until it was the shape of my cock. Watching her waiting for my words made my dick hard. Come to think about it, watching her breathe made my dick hard. She could probably pick her nose and smear it all over my windshield and my dick would still go ramrod straight, awarding her with a standing ovation.

“Problem?” I growled. “Several, actually.” She nodded. “Where shall I start?” “How about telling me why I should care?” “Because you have a conscience, and because, no matter what you say, you’re a good-hearted person who historically stands up for what’s right. When people’s feelings are involved, there’s—” “Spare me the big Disney speech. Just spit it out.” I clutched the steering wheel in a death grip. “Use as few words as possible.” “So I finally found out why everyone hates you. Suzanne, who owns the spa down the street, was one of my customers tonight. She filled me in.” She puckered her lower lip, pinching it between her fingers. Here we go. “Are you really going to do what they’re saying you’re going to do?” Cal asked worriedly. “Yup.” I itched to light up a cigarette. “But…why?”

I wanted to get out of here, fast. I’d already achieved what I came here to do and saw no need to stick around in Buttfuck Creek. That was why the locals were angry at me. For cashing out and handing the town’s keys to a bunch of corporate suits who, in their eyes, were going to kill its quaint charm and small-town legacy and inject it with Botoxed designer stores.

Her entire body was angled toward me. I had her undivided attention, and suddenly I felt like someone had poured lava down the pit of my stomach. You’re not smitten. You’re horny. Which is a form of excitement that can be dealt with using your right hand and some shower gel.

“They’ll never forgive you if you go ahead with it.” I took a right turn and entered her street, with its manicured trees, white picket fences, and ice cream–colored houses. “Good thing I don’t give two shits about what people say, huh?” “You think you’re cool because your hackles are so far up you can’t see past them.” She shook her head. “Don’t patronize me, Dot.” What the fuck? What are you saying? “I’m a self-made millionaire and not even twenty-eight. The shit I’ve achieved, you haven’t learned how to spell yet.” I needed to shut the fuck up and do it as soon as possible. I didn’t like myself around her. The gap between Row and McMonster was insane. Cal stared at me speechlessly. “Bite me.” “Thought you’d never ask. Just say where.”

I parked in front of her house and unbuckled. “I’ll walk you to the door.” She undid her seat belt. “No thanks. It’s literally less than ten ste—” “It was a statement, not an offer.” She massaged her temples, drawing an exasperated breath. “You’re the only man I know who manages to be chivalrous and a complete jackass in the same breath. It’s a talent.” “One of many—” The rest of the sentence died in my throat when I spotted Kieran fucking Carmichael loitering outside her door. At two in the goddamn morning.

“What’s even the point of walking me to my door when you run ahead of me?” Cal moaned behind my back. Kieran’s head snapped up from his screen, and his languid expression melted into wariness. “Casablancas. What are you doing here?” “Was about to ask the same question. Channeling your inner Richard Ramirez?” “Heard Cal’s in town.” Kieran leveled his gaze with mine. “Came to say hi.” “In the middle of the night?” I got into his face, my toes brushing his. He wore a popped-collar polo and futuristic sneakers. All he had left was to tattoo the word douche across his forehead. Cal appeared at my side, wheezing from running after me. She slid between us, blocking me. “Thanks for the ride and the truly riveting conversation. Especially the part where you made me feel like shit. I’ll take it from here.” “I’m not leaving before he does.” I pointed at that asshole. I wasn’t being protective; I was being responsible. I didn’t want something happening to an employee of mine on my watch. Yes, I’ll go with that.

“Kieran is here because I invited him.” She’d invited him? I had no idea these two even knew each other. Kieran had graduated from high school the same year as me.

I had been so comfortable in the knowledge she didn’t have a boyfriend, didn’t have sex with other people, didn’t date, that I forgot to factor in Cal was a liar. She could’ve lied to me as oBITCHuary. But no. That didn’t seem right. She was truthful with McMonster. That was what made it so fucking hard to stop talking with her—the idea that I was somehow saving her, becoming her lifeline.

“How do you know him?” I demanded. As if I had the right. “Not that it’s any of your business, but he tutored me for English through middle and high school.” But as she said this, she folded her arms, shivering as she looked at him, and not from the cold. Was she uncomfortable? Had he done anything to her? “Got extra credit for it.” Kieran winked. This tracked. Even though he was a smug piece of work, Kieran wasn’t stupid. And he’d done a shit ton of extracurricular stuff at school to pad his CV. “You don’t need another asshole, Cal. You already have one,” I pointed out. “Kieran, leave.”

“Still a charmer, Row.” Kieran’s lips twisted in a smirk. “The people’s prince. You know, Cal, he kicked me out of his restaurant last week.” “His ego couldn’t handle a better-looking man sitting there,” Cal guessed, stopping a good ten feet away from him. Yeah, she was definitely wary of him, even if she tried to hide it. “Are you saying I’m handsome?” Kieran arched a devilish eyebrow. “I’m saying Row isn’t,” she quipped back, burrowing deeper into her jacket and taking another step back from him. Seriously, what had I done in a previous life to deserve this kind of karma? Decapitated puppies and kittens in the town square? “What’s he doing here?” I repeated, my tone cold. “You’re an employee, and I’m not leaving until I know you’re not in some kind of danger.” Cal’s expression turned timid. “I’ve been having difficulties falling asleep since Dad passed away.”

“I need company. Someone to talk to, to keep me away from my own thoughts.” “Could’ve taken you to Dylan’s.” I felt my nostrils flare. “Dylan needs to rest.” “Could’ve talked to me.” Seriously. No. Rock. Bottom. None. “Sometimes I want to talk to someone who doesn’t scowl or berate me.” “Specify next time, then. I’m not a fucking mind reader.” “You aren’t? Well, then I won’t keep you guessing—I want you to go away. Now.” The tips of her small, red mouth curved upward, and she brushed invisible lint from my shoulder. The touch was short-lived, but it was enough to make me swallow a hiss of depraved desire. She. Touched. Me. Willingly. She never touched men.

“I’m okay. I swear. Kieran won’t hurt me.” She dipped her chin, holding my gaze seriously. But her eyes told me another story. Her eyes told me to stay. To fight. That she wasn’t feeling very safe at all. Her eyes, or your delusions? Rhy’s voice inquired in my head. “I can stick arou—” “Row? Go.” I didn’t want to leave her with Kieran.

“Will you pick me up tomorrow?” Cal piped up behind my back. I kept on moving toward my truck, not looking back. “If you’re at Dylan’s. Mom’s house is on my way.” It wasn’t, but I clung on to the last shred of my self-respect like it was the edge of a cliff on Everest. She’d been here less than a week, and already I had hired her and driven her around like a chauffeur. Way to maintain fucking distance.

“Hey, Casablancas!” Kieran put his fingers in his mouth, whistling loudly before waving his hand. “Safe trip, buddy.”

Cal was back, and so was my fascination with her. I was officially, royally, and completely fucked.

ROW

McMonster: How do you handle working with men? oBITCHuary: I’m mostly scared of men in private settings. Like, when I’m alone with a man in an elevator (which is never, I always leave), or when I’m alone on the street. When it’s in a room full of people, I’m pretty certain no one is going to pounce on me. That’s why I said we should meet for coffee. If we meet at a Starbucks, I am less likely to run away. McMonster: LESS likely? Meaning it could still happen? oBITCHuary: Hey, everything’s on the table until you prove to be sane and not a cartel lord. McMonster: Gotta love a woman with high standards. McMonster: Are you an extrovert? oBITCHuary: I think a lot of people would assume I am because I’m happy and upbeat. But…I’m just a people pleaser. There’s a difference. McMonster: What’s the difference? oBITCHuary: I act perky and happy because I want to make others feel better, not necessarily because I feel good. I just give them the oBITCHuary they want.

McMonster: So. oBITCHuary: Sooooo? <peering eyes emoji> McMonster: There’s something I need to tell you. oBITCHuary: Oh? oBITCHuary: Are you a serial killer? Because that’s going to be amazing for my podcast and disastrous for our friendship. Plus, you can forget about that coffee meeting I have planned for us when I come back to New York. McMonster: I’m not a serial killer. oBITCHuary: Is it going to make me like you less? Whatever it is you’re going to tell me? McMonster: 100%. oBITCHuary: Then don’t. McMonster: ? oBITCHuary: Seriously, don’t. I like you. I don’t like men. I want to continue liking you. Please don’t burst my bubble. I feel like you’re helping me make progress. I don’t want to lose it. McMonster: I’m not a liar. oBITCHuary: You’re not lying to me. You’re omitting information I am disinterested in. There’s a difference.

McMonster: Good night? oBITCHuary: Hmm, I don’t recall you ever contacting me in the middle of the night before. Has it been a good night for YOU? McMonster: It’s actually been an epic shit show. oBITCHuary: Anything I can do to help? McMonster: Yes. Let me tell you what I need to tell you. oBITCHuary: Other than that. I really want to stay friends. I don’t have many. And I’m still on probation with my childhood BFF. McMonster: My, my, you can be selfish when you want. oBITCHuary: Only with you. McMonster: That’s all right. oBITCHuary: Why? McMonster: Because you’re the only person I’m selfless with too.

Row was right. Yesterday, Kieran’s presence had caught me by surprise. I had texted him that I was feeling too sad and anxious to sleep, but I’d never expected him to show up at my house. Then again, I’d never expected Row to refuse to evacuate my premises. How did he know I felt uncomfortable around Kieran? How did he know I was scared?

You can do this. There is nothing to be afraid of. Only there was. Which was why I hadn’t run in so many years. My worst memory was attached to running. But I couldn’t let my father down. He hadn’t known what made me stop running, but he had known that running was important to me. I needed to at least try. There will be no evil men, no lonely woods, no bad people. Just you and the music. And your maddening urge to pee every time you run, probably.

The memory crisp, vivid, and in full color. The woods. The blood. The laughter. “Leave the weirdo to die. It’s not like anyone’s gonna miss her.” Air. I needed air. I sucked in a breath, but my windpipe was crammed with lint. My vision swam. My eyesight became milky, fogged with terror; my mind screamed at my feet to stop moving, but they continued running of their own accord, going harder, faster; I looked around frantically. I wasn’t on Main Street anymore. At some point, I had veered off course. There wasn’t a soul on this residential, tree-lined street. No one to help me. Calm down. Everything is okay. You just need to figure out how to stop moving. But my brakeless feet wouldn’t slow. My body was a broken vehicle, and all I could do was swerve it off the pathway to try to soften the blow. “She dead yet?” “Smells dead to me.” “I think it’s the cabbage. Dirty Russian whore and her stinky food.” “Quick, let’s go before her nerdiac friend finds out and gets us in trouble.” Tears needled my eyes, and I choked on the little air that still swirled in my lungs.

This was a mistake. I’d have to— Thwack. Dirt filled my mouth, cold and crunchy. My face was pancaked over loose construction sand. I spat grit, slowly digesting that I had fallen down. Tripped over a stone and dived right onto my face. My right leg was scorching with pain.