Page 1 of Heartthrob

Chapter One

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Esme

I’m so going to jail. No need for a crystal ball or a fucking psychic to know that. Not when my luck has been as bad as it’s been so far this year, and the year is just getting started. I had my identity stolen and whoever did it decided to completely blow out my credit that I had worked so hard to maintain so I could buy a house someday and not have to put up with my creepy landlord.

Not only did that plan get shit on but the place I worked fired me because they said my financial situation made me a liability since I could get desperate enough to steal from the company. So there went my promising career, right down the shitter. So now I work as a glorified housekeeper, cleaning places I will never even be able to pretend I could own. I had to lie to get this job. I was terrified they would tell me I couldn’t clean up after the rich people who own this beach because I might do something crazy like speak to one of them.

Crazy! You want to hear crazy? I’m now desperate enough to do exactly what all those people feared I might. I’m breaking and entering. Well, I’m not really doing much of the breaking part since I have the security code for this house. I have it because the company that hired me to clean was careless enough to leave that information on their computer as I was cleaning. Along with the little note that said the guy who stays at this house isn’t going to be here for at least a month, possibly more.

I don’t plan to go wild or anything. I only need a safe place to sleep for the night. I’ve been sleeping in my car but it got towed and I don’t have the money to get it back. And who do you think had it towed? The realty service that I hired me to clean all those big beachside mansions. The bastards. They wouldn’t even help me get the car back because I should have been smart enough not to leave it parked for longer than twelve hours in front of their offices.

This is probably where most people would break down, admit defeat, and run back to their families…but I don’t have a family to run back to. My mom and dad passed away in a fire when I was sixteen. Thankfully my father had a friend that helped me emancipate and I didn’t have to go into the system for very long.

I was never afraid of hard work and I figured out pretty quick that the only person who was going to be able to help me was myself. Not that I wouldn’t take the help and be thankful for it. It’s just…help can only get you so far before you have to pick yourself up and get busy living your life. That doesn’t mean I didn’t cry for days about my parents or have aching regrets that I couldn’t have been there with them. It’s just, playing what-if games doesn’t help with the situation you are in right then.

So when I found out that my identity had been stolen I did the same thing I’d done with my parents. I tried to pick myself up but it’s getting really fucking hard to have the outlook of little orphan Annie when your life looks more like a Steven King book. So here I am. Twenty years old, breaking into someone else’s house for the night because I don’t want to spend a second night at the shelter where one of the volunteers gives me weird vibes - broke and alone. A girl starts to wonder if this is just how it’s going to be for the rest of her life.

The house is big and quiet and I’m worried that anything I do will echo horribly throughout it. I pad through, trying not to touch anything I don’t have to. There is way too much white for me to not leave something behind - like fingerprints and smudges. Even the couch is white. How do people sit on a white couch?

It’s also the biggest fucking couch I’ve ever seen. It wraps around most of the sunken living room and leads the eye to the large windows in the front that look out onto the beach and ocean beyond. Even the kitchen, which is open and connected to the large living room, is white.

Why do fancy people live in houses made up of all white and glass? How do they keep it clean? Do they not leave messes behind? Do they not act like normal people and actually ‘use’ the shit they own? I make my way up the staircase and try to find a bedroom that has a bathroom I can ‘borrow’.

I come to an open door that leads into a room with one of the biggest beds I have ever seen. There is no way that bed wasn’t custom-made. I peek in and spot the door to the bathroom open. The fucking bathroom is done in gray. There is literally no color whatsoever in this house. I really wish I had paid better attention to who the owner was but at the time it didn’t seem important. I just needed to know where the owner wasn’t.

I’m too scared to turn the lights on so instead I light some of the candles that seem to be on every flat surface of the bedroom and bathroom. I’m not just going to use and take from these people. I plan to leave cash on the island downstairs so they can replace what I used. It might not be a lot of cash but at least it will help me not feel like I am stealing.

The whole shower in the bathroom is made of glass and I note there is no tub in this room, just the big ass shower with a bench seat running the full length of the back wall. I quickly take my wet clothes off and step into the shower after I find a towel. Even the towels here are gigantic. It kind of makes me feel like Alice when she shrank and everything was so much bigger than her.

I barely step into the shower and moan at the feel of hot water pouring down on me, when the sound of sirens in the distance has me panicking. Oh my God! I’ve been caught. Somehow, they found out I’m here and they’re coming for me.

I reach for the towel I put on the rack but instead of touching the soft fuzziness of the towel, I come up with nothing but air. A big hand wraps around my wrist and causes my heart to speed up. It’s going to do a rendition of the Alien movie scene and burst right out of my chest.

Before I can scream the man has me pulled out of the shower and off my feet. My mind is in screaming mode and I’m pretty sure even if this guy was saying something, I wouldn’t be able to hear over the thumping of my heart in my ears. It barely occurs to me that I am completely naked and in a stranger’s arms. It doesn’t escape my attention that this stranger smells really good though.

I’ve completely lost my mind. All of this is just too much. And I’ve finally been pushed too far. I’ve lost my sanity.

“We only have seconds to get on the same page.” Same page? Is he a thief too? “Don’t fight me and listen to what I’m telling you.”

Am I in more trouble than before? Have I gone from one unsafe place to the ultimate end of my life? Would I be better off going to jail? How is it possible that my luck got even worse?

Chapter Two

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Linc

I’m in the back of the limo looking out the window when my phone dings. I look at the screen and see it’s an alert telling me my silent alarm has been tripped. I tap the intercom and tell the driver to pull over even as I pull up the cameras in my house and find the cutest little robber I have ever seen.

She stands in my living room for a few moments before going up the stairs and moves toward my bedroom. I find myself holding my breath and repeating one thought over and over again. Go to my room. Go to my room. I don’t even stop to think about why I want this little thief in my room. I just do.

The cute little robber does exactly as I say and tiptoes into my room with the big bed in it. I don’t have cameras in my bedroom. I hit the intercom again. “Take me back to the beach house.”

“Did you forget something, sir?”

I find my lips curling in what I am sure is a grinch-like grin. Did I forget something? Yeah. Something about five foot tall with dark hair and a curvy little body.

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