Bad Impressions (Revive Me #1) by Franca Storm Read Free Book Online Page A

fighting or any self-defense stuff.
    That awful feeling that I’d felt the last time rushed over me: total and utter helplessness.
    “Hey, asshole!” a harsh voice rang out suddenly.
    I turned to see the bouncer I recognized from when we’d entered the club earlier approaching. He had a smoke in his right hand. He must’ve come out for his break.
    “Mind your own business!” Jake snapped.
    “I’m making it my business,” the bouncer said, not the least bit deterred.
    “Fuck off,” Jake snarled, dismissing him like he was nothing.
    Everything happened so fast then.
    Jake was suddenly ripped away from me.
    He lunged at the bouncer, but the guy clearly knew his stuff and he had him on his knees in a few seconds flat.
    Within moments, Jake was hauled away by two other bouncers who had seemingly come out of nowhere. The bouncer must have radioed them earlier somehow, I guessed.
    “You okay, sweetheart?” he asked in a gentle voice.
    It took me a moment to respond. “Yeah…fine…thanks.”
    “Come, let’s get you back inside. You have friends in there?”
    I nodded, but stepped back. “I…I need a moment.” I didn’t want Tiff to see me in a state. She couldn’t suspect anything or all hell would break loose back at home.
    The bouncer didn’t leave me though. He moved a few feet back to give me space, but I felt his eyes on me the entire time as I had another smoke to calm my nerves.

Chapter 7
    ~Brad~
     
    I’m gonna rip that fucking doorbell out of the goddamn wall!
    It’d been ringing incessantly for the last few minutes, waking me up. Considering I never slept well, I was pissed to be woken up when I had actually managed the impossible. Once again, I’d woken up in the middle of the night sweating and pissing myself from another fucking nightmare. Always the same nightmare. Always involving my dad and that awful day. But I’d managed to go back to sleep for once.
    Until the damn doorbell had started.
    It was barely 8am on a fucking Sunday. It was one of the few Sundays I actually had off from the bar and I was being woken up by some asshole ringing my doorbell like a crazy person on crack. It better not be Crazy Claire or I swear to God….
    I reached the bottom of the stairs and hauled open the door, not caring who the hell it was. I was pissed enough to transcend anything that was waiting for me on the other side of the door.
    But all that dissipated in a matter of seconds as I saw who was standing there on my doorstep.
    Soph.
    She seemed startled. It took me a moment to work out why. I was still a little out of it from having just woken up.
    I glanced down at myself to see that I was standing there in nothing but a pair of boxers.
    Not only that, but I had a serious case of morning wood. And little Miss Sophie Clinton was blushing like crazy and doing everything in her power to prevent herself from looking where she really wanted to.
    “What’s up?” I asked, ignoring the awkwardness and my unintentional innuendo. Jesus Christ.
    Her expression turned deadly serious as she said, “I need your help.”
    I didn’t even need to think about it. I just reacted, stepping back from the door and ushering her inside.
    “Give me a sec,” I said, shutting it behind me and then heading back up the stairs.
    I hurried to my bedroom, grabbed my robe off the back of the door and quickly slipped it on.
    The last thing either of us needed was me walking around half-naked. Things were bad enough between us when we were both fully clothed. Plus, if she gawked at my dick one more time, I wasn’t sure I would be responsible for my actions. Having her eyes on me, looking at me like that, did things to me.
    I headed back downstairs and found her sitting on one of the stools at the breakfast bar in the kitchenette. The house was small, but that was fine by me. I didn’t need much room. It was then that I noticed she was dressed in workout gear. Gray sweatpants. A white tank top with a neon-pink sports bra visible