Unbreak Me by Lexi Ryan Read Free Book Online Page B

cool off the heat his eyes send through me. Asher isn’t drinking. He didn’t explain and I didn’t ask, but I’m curious. He doesn’t strike me as a straight-edger. Hell, he’s a former rocker. Maybe he prefers something with a little more punch than beer.
    Jack’s is slow tonight, and it will be until classes start up at Sinclair in the fall. New Hope is a tiny little town of contrasts—a bizarre mix of yuppie affluence and rural simplicity. The businesses within a two-block radius of campus cater to the private school students—a gourmet coffee shop, an Aveda hair salon, a sushi bar. Outside of those two blocks, residents are served with gas stations that advertise “Live Bait” on their marquees and greasy spoon restaurants where the closest thing to fresh sushi is the fried catfish—locally caught, cleaned, battered, and fried.
    “So did you grow up in New Hope?”
    “You want to know why I hate dating?” I counter. He frowns and I hold up a hand before he can protest. “I hate dating because dating protocol requires I keep it positive, that I feed you some bullshit about how my childhood was wholesome and awesome blah-blah-bullshit-blah.”
    He folds his arms on the table and leans forward. “It’s a date, Maggie. Not a job interview.” When I just stare in response, he says, “My childhood was shitty. I was poor. My dad was a drunk. He put his hands on my mom, and then, when I was old enough by whatever fucked-up standards he had, he put them on me.”
    “I…” What do you say? “I’m sorry.”
    He shrugs. “I’m grown now. I have more money than I know what to do with, Mom’s all right, and the son of a bitch is dead. Life’s not so bad after all.”
    I let out a breath. Something about Asher compels me to open up. Something about the way his blue eyes take me in. It’s like he sees something good when he looks at me, and I want to throw my ugliness in his face to prove him wrong.
    I take a long draw from my beer. “I grew up in New Hope,” I say in answer to his question. “And I stayed here for college at Sinclair. I probably should have gone away but there’s a good art program here.” And Will, I thought, remembering how Will’s decision to come home for graduate school had solidified mine to do undergrad at Sinclair.
    “So you’re a brain,” he says.
    I laugh. “In my family, you don’t have a choice. Good grades, good behavior, good fashion sense. It’s all expected.” I realize I’ve said more than I want to, so I wave it away. “Not that I was ever any good at any of those. Not anything other than painting, actually.”
    “When do you graduate?”
    “Well, I dropped out last year, so that all depends on whether or not they’ll take me back.”
    He exhales sharply. “Fuck, what a relief.”
    “What?”
    “Well”—he starts ticking off reasons on his fingers—“you’re gorgeous and sexy and smart. It’s intimidating until you throw in the college dropout stuff. I was ready to find a new date.”
    “ I’m intimidating? You’re the freaking rock star at the table.”
    Some of the humor drains from his face, but he keeps his smile in place. “You know about that, huh?”
    “My sisters told me. You could have mentioned you’re in a band.”
    “I was in a band.” He wipes his hands on his napkin and shrugs. “Past tense.”
    With a dreamy sigh, I prop my chin on my fists. “Who knew that one day I’d be on a date with the lead singer from a famous boy band?”
    He scowls. “Infinite Gray was not a boy band. ”
    “Were there any girls in the band?”
    “No.”
    “That makes you a boy band.”
    “It made us an all-male rock group.”
    I bite back my smile. He’s so cute when he’s irritated. “Right, like ’N Sync.”
    He winces. “ Not like ’N Sync. Jesus, watch where you hurl those things. Words hurt, Maggie.”
    I giggle.
    He glowers. “You need a musical intervention.”
    I perk up. “Ooh! Are you going to make me a