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  Crazy, Stupid Love

  K.L. Grayson

  Crazy, Stupid Love

  Copyright © 2018 by KL. Grayson

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright re- served above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copy- right owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Editor: Jessica Royer Ocken

  Proofreader: Tiffany Martindale

  Cover Designer: Kari March Designs

  To the boy who will one day marry my daughter…

  Right now, we are Ava’s world, but one day, it will be you telling her goodnight. Comforting her. Holding her hand. You will be the one she runs to when something great happens—or something horrible. It will be hard, but when the time comes, we will pass that torch to you and I hope that you’ll accept it and cherish it the way her father and I have for so many years.

  Treat her with respect.

  Hold her hand.

  Kiss her.

  Walk beside her in life.

  Encourage her.

  Dream with her.

  Make her smile often and laugh even more.

  Show grace when she is wrong, and she will be wrong.

  Admit when she is right.

  But most of all… love her.

  Love her with your whole heart and from the deepest part of your soul.

  And don’t ever forget that I loved her first. She’s my sweet little girl. My princess. My angel.

  One last thing… All of the wonderful qualities you love about her… she got them from me. You’re welcome ;)

  (Okay, fine. She got some of them from her equally wonderful father :) )

  Contents

  Prologue

  1. Lincoln

  2. Lincoln

  3. Lincoln

  4. Adley

  5. Adley

  6. Lincoln

  7. Lincoln

  8. Adley

  9. Lincoln

  10. Adley

  11. Lincoln

  12. Adley

  13. Adley

  14. Lincoln

  15. Lincoln

  16. Adley

  17. Adley

  18. Adley

  19. Lincoln

  20. Adley

  21. Adley

  22. Lincoln

  23. Lincoln

  24. Adley

  25. Lincoln

  26. Adley

  27. Adley

  28. Lincoln

  29. Lincoln

  30. Adley

  31. Adley

  32. Lincoln

  33. Lincoln

  34. Adley

  35. Lincoln

  Where We Belong

  Prologue

  Stalk the Author

  Prologue

  Lincoln

  “Nice of you to finally show up,” Deacon says.

  Grabbing the pitcher of beer from the center of the table, he raises his eyebrow at me. When I nod, he pours me one.

  “Family shit.” I accept the mug and take a drink. I’m usually not a big drinker, but tonight it feels like I’ve earned it.

  “Your dad?” Tucker asks.

  “Always.”

  Deacon wraps his hands around his mug. “How is he?”

  “Same shit, different day.”

  “Still sober?”

  I shake my head. “Fell off the wagon again.”

  “Damn.” Tucker grips my shoulder and frowns. “Maybe next time. I’m sorry, dude.”

  “Don’t be,” I say, shrugging him off because I’m grumpy—the same way I always am when I leave Dad’s house.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  Fuck, no. I’m working my ass into the ground and taking care of a man who used to beat the livin’ shit out of me.

  “Hell no, I’m not okay. I’m exhausted.” Taking my hat off, I run my hand through my hair and then put it back on.

  “You know what you need?” Deacon asks.

  Lifting my mug, I take another drink. “Something stronger?”

  “Nah, man. You don’t want to get into the same shit your dad got into.”

  My stomach sours at the thought, and I push my beer to the center of the table. The last thing I need is to turn into my father.

  “What you need is a tight, warm pussy.”

  That’s the other last thing I need.

  I’m not one to sleep around. Mostly because as much as I don’t want to turn out like my father, I really don’t want to turn out like my mother. Haven’t heard from her in years, but mention her name to anyone in town, and they’ll think of one thing: whore. She slept with anyone willing to put a beer in her hand and a dick between her legs. And that’s a title I don’t want to keep in the family.

  Which leaves me with two options: stay single and keep my dick in my pants, or find a nice girl, settle down, and commit—something I put the brakes on years ago.

  In my world, people cheat, steal, hit, and lie. And the promise of love is nothing more than an empty declaration designed to bring down a person’s walls.

  Once those walls are gone, you’re left exposed and vulnerable to a world of hurt.

  I’ve had enough hurt in my life, and I refuse to bring a woman into my fucked-up world because it’s inevitable: one of these days I’ll lose what little strength l have and fall fast and hard into the life my parents lived—the life I grew up in. And God help the woman beside me when that happens.

  Until then, I do what any good ol’ boy does. I watch porn, work the hell out of my right hand, and when the urge gets too strong, I get rip-roaring drunk, take home a nameless, faceless woman, and the next morning I vow to never do it again.

  Tonight that urge is strong, but not overpowering.

  “Nah, man. I’ve seen what this bar has to offer. I don’t need a buckle bunny attaching herself to me.”

  The Broken Boot is the best damn bar in Houston. The leather seats are torn, the hardwood floor is scuffed from years of dancing, and the smell of stale beer hangs in the air, but there’s nowhere I’d rather be.

  Except maybe on the back of a two-ton bull in the middle of a sold-out arena, but that dream died, and The Broken Boot is second best.

  Here, money doesn’t matter. No one gives a fuck where I come from or where I’m going. I’m just another bull rider in a town full of cowboys, and that’s how I like it.

  “I’m not talking about a buckle bunny,” Deacon says. “I’m referring to a fresh face. Someone I’ve never seen in here before.”

  Tucker lets out a low whistle. “Trust me, brother, this woman is just what the doctor ordered to pull you out of whatever funk you’re in. Perky tits, tight ass, and curves for miles.”

  “If she’s so perfect, why the hell haven’t you hit on her?”

  “He has,” Deacon says, laughing. “She shot him down cold.”

  Tucker shoves Deacon. “She didn’t shoot me down.”

  “You’re right. She smiled and patted your back. I think that’s worse.” Deacon’s eyes lock on something over my shoulder and his smile grows. “Don’t look now, but here comes the brown-eyed beauty.”

  The hairs on the back of my neck stand up before I’m fully turned around. T
hat’s only ever happened with one woman.

  “Adley?”

  1

  Lincoln

  Five months later

  There’s a special place in hell for a man like me—a man who shamelessly sleeps with his best friend’s little sister, knowing he’ll never be what she needs. A man who takes without giving anything in return, because the only thing he has to offer is a broken past that’s destined to destroy his future.

  Adley Allen presses her naked body against mine and sighs. Her silky skin brushes against my chest, testing my strength—strength I’ve already proven I don’t have when I’m around her.

  She looks up, her dark brown eyes finding mine. “That was the best celebratory sex I’ve ever had.”

  “Damn right it was. We’re going to start celebrating everything. You wake up. We celebrate. You eat. We celebrate. You shi—”

  “Don’t even say it.” She laughs, slapping at my chest.

  “Fine, I won’t say it, but just so you know, we’re celebrating it.”

  Shaking her head, Adley rests her chin on my chest. “I can’t believe this morning was my last final. No more college.”

  “Believe it.”

  “No more clinicals or homework. All I have to do now is take my state board, and once I pass, I’ll be a real nurse.” She blinks, and her face sobers. “Unless I fail. What if I fail?”

  “You’re not going to fail.” Cradling the back of her head, I lean down and kiss her nose. “You have a big, beautiful brain.”

  Her shoulders visibly relax. “You’re right. I’ve spent the last four years preparing for this. I’ll pass.”

  “I know you will.”

  “But what if I kill someone?”

  “What?”

  “What if I pass my boards, get a great job, and accidentally kill someone?”

  She’s so cute when she’s flustered. I smooth the wrinkle out on her brow. “You’re not going to kill anyone.”

  “You don’t know that. What if I give someone the wrong medicine or—”

  My lips put a stop to her crazy words. Adley’s body melts against mine. She swings a leg over my hips, straddling me. “Are you trying to distract me?”

  “If I was trying to distract you, I would’ve done this.” Curling my fingers around Adley’s hips, I roll her against my erection. Her eyes gloss over, the same way they did five months ago when I kissed her for the first time.

  A kiss that never should’ve happened.

  A kiss I couldn’t stop even if I’d wanted to.

  You were supposed to be off limits, I think to myself, my mind drifting back to the warning Rhett gave me the first time I met his little sister…

  “Who’s that?” I asked him, nodding to a girl at the end of the bar. She was perched on the edge of a stool, her long, dark hair falling down her back and a cherry red stiletto hooked on the bottom rung.

  Rhett had followed my gaze and then glared at me. “That’s my little sister, jackass, and she’s off limits. She’s not even twenty-one.”

  For five long years I managed to look past Adley’s soft curves and seductive smile, refusing to acknowledge the pull I felt every time she walked into a room.

  That all changed last December when we ran into each other at The Broken Boot. We shared a basket of wings, a few drinks, and then I offered her a ride home from the bar. What should’ve been an innocent drive ended with a heated kiss that snowballed into an unexpected affair that neither one of us seems able or willing to walk away from—not yet, at least—despite our mutual agreement to keep things light and easy.

  School has been Adley’s main focus, and I have way too much shit going on in my life for a relationship—I always will. That’s why whatever this is works. No strings. No commitment. Great sex. Can’t get much better than that.

  Outside of the bedroom, our lives are entirely different. But get us stripped bare and under the covers—or against the wall, or on the kitchen counter—and the rest of the world falls away. Which is why, similar to that first fateful night, I’m unable to stop myself now.

  Wedging a hand between our bodies, I slide two fingers inside of her.

  Lips parted, Adley places her hands on my chest and drops her head back, exposing the porcelain skin of her neck. Skin I’ve spent countless hours exploring.

  “I have a million things to do this afternoon,” she mumbles.

  “What could possibly be more important than this?” I rub my thumb over her clit and prepare to tell her all the ways I’ll bring her pleasure if she stays, but the sight of her hips rocking against my hand and her breasts swaying in front of me dissolves the words right out of my mouth.

  Sitting up, I capture a breast with my lips and suck her nipple deep into my mouth. Adley pushes her hands into my hair, holding me against her as my tongue falls into an easy rhythm with my hand. Her muscles contract around my fingers, and her breathing turns ragged.

  I move from one breast to the other, teasing and sucking, and when I pinch her clit, Adley flies apart. She’s a gelatinous pile of moans and convulsions and sinful words. I continue to pump my fingers in and out until her body slumps lifelessly against mine. I release her breast with a pop, pull my fingers from her wet heat, and look up. Adley’s dark hair is a wild mess of waves from the hours we’ve spent celebrating. Her lips are puffy, cheeks flushed, eyes dilated, and she’s never looked sexier.

  There’s nothing I want more than to flip her over, press her delicate body into the mattress with my much larger one and make love to her the way I’ve wanted to for the last several months. Our affair was supposed to have an expiration date, but somewhere along the way, we blurred the lines. We went from walking away after a round of hot sex to having sleepovers and breakfast in bed, and I can’t keep my hands off of her, which makes it difficult when Rhett invites me to his parents’ house for Sunday dinner.

  I can’t pinpoint when my feelings for Adley started to shift. But one day it was just there, a little voice begging for something more. It’s that voice, that yearning, that drives me out of this bed before I do something stupid like make love to her, because I don’t make love.

  I fuck.

  And right now, I can’t fuck Adley. I’m too raw and vulnerable, wondering what’s going to happen between us now that she’s finished school. And if there are two things I hate feeling, it’s raw and vulnerable.

  I need to sharpen that line between us, get us back on track with no-strings sex before one of us gets hurt, and there’s only one way I know how to do that.

  With a kiss to her sweet lips, I smack her ass and nudge her off of me. She pulls the sheet over her naked breasts and watches me.

  “Why do you always do that?” she asks.

  “Do what?”

  “Pull away from me.”

  “I’m not pulling away from you.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  Finding a pair of sweats on the floor, I slip them on, forgoing my underwear, and turn back toward Adley. She looks like an angel in my bed, and I don’t know how long I can keep doing this. Whatever this is between us, it’s coming to a head. I can feel it.

  And she’s right—I pull away all the time. I like to tell myself it’s to protect Adley, but that would be a lie. I do it to protect myself.

  I walk back to the bed and lean down, pressing my hands to the mattress. “I never should’ve offered you a ride home that night.”

  “I hate that you feel that way. Maybe that day was the start of something wonderful.” She brushes her fingers across my cheek. The frazzled mess inside my head calms at the touch of her hand.

  So, yeah, this is where that special place in hell part comes in, because I will never be her something wonderful. My parents made sure of that. But that doesn’t stop me from wrapping my fingers around her wrist, pulling her hand to my mouth, and giving her false hope.

  “I said I shouldn’t have asked, not that I regret asking.” I kiss each of her knuckles.

  I can’t bring myself to regre
t a damn thing that happens between me and Adley, no matter how bad I want to.

  Releasing her hand, I trail my finger from the base of her neck, down her chest, over her collarbone, and along a pink nipple. Adley arches off the bed when I flick the tight bud, and if I didn’t know better, I’d swear I see the same yearning I feel reflected back at me.

  But that can’t be, because men like me don’t get women like her. At least not to keep. I was the kid who grew up on the wrong side of the tracks with shit parents and clothes that had been handed down one too many times. I stole to feed my sister, fought to protect her, and I will always be the guy your parents don’t want you to bring home.

  I’m Adley’s walk on the wild side. Her dirty little secret. And I’m okay with that.

  Ninety-nine percent of the time.

  Today is just that one percent when it doesn’t sit well with me. For some strange reason, I want to be here to celebrate all of Adley’s victories, not just this one. I want to be here when she gets her first job and take her out to dinner after her first shift. I want to be the person she calls when she has a bad day or saves someone’s life.

  Shit. I need to get a handle on these damn feelings.

  I pull my hand away, stand up, and reach for my shirt. “You should get going. You have lots of things to do, right?”

  With a loud grown, she flings her legs over the side of the bed, the sheet pooling around her waist, and my eyes drop to her chest. Her nipples tighten under my gaze, and I grin.