Damaged Read Online Free Page B

can’t tell where you’re from.”
    “Connecticut. Yankee-ville, same as you, little Miss Jersey.”
    “You moved down here for work?”
    Peter nods. “Yeah. It was time for a change of pace.” He looks away from me when he says it, his eyes dropping to the floor. There’s more there, something heavy, but I don’t press him. “This place came up on the grid, and I thought Texas would be different, so I went for it and managed to piss off my entire family. That was a bonus.” He tilts his head at me before sitting down on the couch.
    “Yeah, my family was mad when I came down here, too. They gave me the old Italian guilt about abandoning my family... Like they can’t function without me?” I bite my sandwich and shake my head. “My family is so tight that none of us can breathe without someone else knowing about it. I was glad to get out of there. I needed space.” I finish the sandwich and look for a spot to put the plate.
    “I know what you mean.” Peter smiles at me and takes the plate from my hand. “Honestly, you’re the first person I’ve spoken to down here that I get along with. Everyone else seems as if they escaped from a movie set.”
    “I know, right? I said that to Millie when I first moved down here. Actually, I said it to a group of people. Millie was the only one who laughed, which made her quality friend material. The rest of the people scowled at me.”
    “Millie is the girl that came to get you from my table?” Peter asks, before he goes into the kitchen to grab the coffee.
    I nod. When he walks back out of the kitchen, I ask, “Hey, what were you planning on doing when I figured out that you weren’t my blind date?”
    Peter brings me a cup of coffee and sits down next to me again. “I didn’t know you thought you were on a blind date. I figured it out when you did, maybe a second sooner. The look on your face was so adorable. I’m glad you stopped and said something when you came outside.” Peter looks at me over the top of his mug as he sips his coffee. Those blue eyes are intoxicating. I can’t stop staring at him.
    We talk about nothing for a while longer, until I put my cup down on a box next to me. The entire time we chat, I feel pulled to him. There’s something there, something about him that holds onto me and connects deeper than I’ve connected with anyone—and for some reason I’m not afraid. I don’t know what it is, exactly.
    Peter has an easy way about him. That smile lights up his entire face when he flashes it at me. Yet, there’s a haunted look behind his eyes, like his life has been harder than he lets on. I sense it in him. Like calls to like and my life has been anything but easy. When I find another person who has that fragile, battered, spirit, I instantly relate. The thing is , there aren’t that many of them. I don’t know if other people lay down and die when things go wrong or they harden so much they’re no longer alive. I refuse to bend, refuse to turn to stone. The pain in my life won’t destroy me. I won’t let it. I see the same conviction in his eyes and hear it in his voice. There’s something he left behind, someone who scarred him. The pleasantries, that cocky grin and those dazzling eyes, try to hide it from me, but I know it’s there. He’s damaged like me. It pulls me to him in a way that’s too powerful to ignore.
    Peter reaches past me and sets his empty cup on the same box. His arm brushes against mine as he does. I breathe him in. God, he smells good. That pull between us gets even stronger. When he straightens, we’re sitting very close. Peter’s sapphire eyes lock with mine and my stomach goes into a free fall. This is it. I can feel it. I can sleep with this guy and erase the last one. I’ve already come this far. It’s a few more steps, a few more minutes. I can do this. I can.
    Besides, the guy makes me feel as though I can actually be with him. I want to touch him, which is so strange. I haven’t felt like this