Unbreak Me

  Copyright © 2020 by Drake Poppy

  Cover designed by Meet Cute Creative

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Unbreak Me

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue

  Pick Up Your Next Book!

  About the Author

  Unbreak Me: An Alpha Male Stepbrother and Virgin Forbidden Romance

  When I saw her, I knew she had to be mine. She was the perfect woman: beautiful and crazy smart with a heart of gold. Despite my dark past, she made me want to be a better an.

  And for a moment, I thought we actually had a chance to be together.

  But then reality serves me a cruel reminder: I will never be good enough for Juliette.

  Even if it nearly breaks me, the best thing I can do for the woman I love is to convince her I don’t care...

  I gave my heart to the reformed bad boy who sleeps just down the hall from me. I wanted to give him more.

  I wanted to give him everything.

  Before I have the chance, he cruelly abandons me, shattering my heart into a thousand pieces.

  But even though I’m broken, I know that Damien’s love could be enough to finally unbreak me.

  Now I just need him to realize that for himself.

  Chapter One

  “Oh my god, Juliette. How can you even live in the same house as that man without mounting him like the stallion he is and —”

  I glance to where my friend Sabrina is staring and groan, interrupting her. I’ve heard it all before. From her, anyway. Sabrina and I have been friends since I moved to Long Meadow eleven years ago, though ever since she laid eyes on my stepbrother, Damien — the same one she is gawking at right now — she has been coming around more often.

  A lot more often.

  Not that I can blame her. Damien is heart-stoppingly gorgeous. The kind of handsome that I’ve only read about in romance novels. He is everything I know I’m supposed to run away from: a strong, chiseled jaw that leads to thick, firm lips and the most beautiful dark green eyes I’ve ever seen.

  And that’s only his face. His body alone is enough to send my stomach spinning into knots. The hours he spends working in our basement gym are reflected in his eight pack and ripped arms covered in dark ink tattoos. Everything about him screams trouble and to run away. And that is the problem.

  I don’t want to run away.

  “If you keep staring, I’m going to have to charge you ladies!”

  Damien’s voice breaks me away from my thoughts and sends a rush of heat to my cheeks.

  Oh my god! He knew I was staring at him!

  I cross my arms at my chest and turn away. I can hear Damien laughing as he dives into the pool. The water barely makes a splash when he lands, and only when he is fully underwater do I exhale the breath trapped in my chest.

  “Ugh, what an arrogant jerk!”

  Sabrina licks her lips and shrugs.

  “So what? He is fucking gorgeous.”

  I slide down the sunglasses resting on my head to cover my eyes. Feeling brave behind my tinted sunglasses, I arch my back and twist my neck a bit to the side to get a look at Damien, now swimming laps. Every time his head arises from the water, a part of me wishes he will turn and look at me. All I need is one second. One second to stare into his gorgeous eyes, admire the curve of his lips and imagine what they would feel like on mine.

  But a second wouldn’t be enough. Not with Damien. With him, I want so, so much more.

  I clench my legs together as I continue to watch him. I’m sure every hair on my body is rising just from the electricity buzzing through my body as I watch — no, gawk — at Damien.

  Sabrina, lying on the sun chair beside me by our pool, fans herself as she watches. She shows none of my restraint, shamelessly ogling him. Damien pauses his lap swimming and stands in the shallow end of the pool. He shakes his hair out and tilts his head up to face the sun. His blonde hair catches the light and I swear it’s like there’s a freaking spotlight following him.

  The man is like an Instagram filter come to life.

  He resumes his lap swimming and Sabrina drones on about some guy who ghosted her after she slept with him in a bar bathroom. I pretend to listen, nodding when appropriate and adding a “I totally agree” when needed. In reality, one hundred percent of my attention is focused on Damien and the way he swims so powerfully, his biceps covered with dark ink flexing as he spears the water.

  “So, that’s why I think I should just go to the club where he works and, like, pretend to bump into him, but then, like, not care when he sees me. What do you think?”

  Only when Sabrina elbows me, looking for a response, do I finally snap my eyes away from Damien.

  Oh, shoot. What has Sabrina been blabbering on about again?

  I pry my eyes from Damien and look at her. “Wait, what?”

  Sabrina blows out an annoyed huff of air.

  “I said I think I should go to the club where Derek works and just, like, strut my stuff so he feels bad for ghosting me, you know?”

  Derek? Who was Derek? Wasn’t he the guy she was telling me about earlier? The one she had hooked up with in the bar bathroom? And who promptly ignored all her text messages? Why would she want to see him again?

  “I don’t know, Sabrina. He was so rude to you. Do you really want to see him again?”

  Sabrina makes a tut sound, crossing her arms at her chest. She looks at me like I’m missing half my brain cells.

  “I don’t want to see him, Juliette. I want him to see me and realize what a mistake he made by ignoring all my texts! God, maybe if you had a boyfriend, like, ever, you would give better advice.”

  Ouch. Sabrina definitely knows how to strike me where it hurts most. We had been friends since we were eight years old, when I had first moved here. She had taken me under her wing, declaring that we were to be best friends.

  In reality, I became more of her sidekick. And how could I not? Sabrina is outgoing, fun and beautiful. While she is tall, blonde and with legs for days, I am short, with dark curls that cascade down my back and with curves that Sabrina once lovingly told me “made me look like a Dollar Tree version of J.Lo.”

  So why did I stick around with Sabrina? Truthfully, I didn’t really know the answer myself. We’ve been friends now for eleven years and I’m slow to make new friends. I’m shy, preferring my books and nature to parties. Yes, I’m in college, but only part-time, which doesn’t provide for a lot of opportunities to socialize.

  And while she is technically correct that I haven’t ever had a boyfriend, I’m not a total idiot when it comes to men. I have gone on a few dates. It isn’t my fault that there is no one interesting or kind enough to capture my attention.

  And definitely no one attractive enough to turn my eye, either. Nope, that would be impossible now that I’ve seen what male perfection looks like in the form of Damien.

  As if he can sense that my thoughts have returned to him once more, Damien swims to the edge of the pool closest to Sabrina and me. He places his palms on the tiled edge and lifts himself out. The muscles in his biceps flex as he emerges. Droplets of water cascade down the mountains of his hard curves and edges. I want to lick off every drop.

  He turns his head and looks at us. The edges of his lips curve into a smirk as he sees
us both staring at him. I thought I had been protected by the dark lenses of my sunglasses, but I was wrong. That arrogant asshole always knew I was watching him.

  He knew I couldn’t help myself.

  He struts away, his bathing suit clinging to his hard thighs and ass. Sabrina moans quietly beside me and fans herself.

  “I don’t know how you stand it, girl. If that man slept down the hall from me every night? I guarantee you there would be no sleeping going on.”

  “He’s my step-brother, Sabrina,” I say, forcing the words out, more of a reminder to myself than to Sabrina.

  Sabrina slides off her glasses and stares me down.

  “He’s your uncle’s stepson, Juliette. Remind me again how the hell that makes him your step-brother.”

  “My uncle’s raised me since I was eight years old. He’s the closest thing to a dad I have, and now he’s married to Damien’s mom,” I explain to her for the hundredth time. “Besides, Damien doesn’t see me as anything but an annoyance. He has made that more than clear.”

  The admission hurts more than I care to admit, because that hasn’t always been the case. Not initially.

  The first few days after Carol and Damien had moved in just over a year ago, I had been in heaven. The second we met, we just clicked. The chemistry was unlike anything I’d ever experienced.

  Damien had been sweet, thoughtful and, though now I think it had all been in my imagination, a bit flirty. And then suddenly, as if overnight, he changed. He became cold, arrogant and rude. He would bring home girls, flaunting them in front of me before escorting them up to his room. It had hurt, deeply.

  “Well, if he’s off limits for you, maybe I’ll shoot my shot,” Sabrina says.

  “What does that mean?” I ask, my voice much more defensive than I had intended. And why? Damien isn’t mine. And it’s clear he has zero interest in me, and whatever I had imagined between us was just that — my imagination.

  Sabrina arches her brow as she looks at me.

  “It means that I am going to be wearing a sexy ass dress at your uncle’s little anniversary soirée tomorrow night and I am going to hit on Damien.”

  She squares her shoulders before continuing.

  “Got a problem with that?”

  I shake my head no, and force a pleasant smile to my face— like I always do. But inside I’m fuming. There is no way Damien will be able to refuse Sabrina. No guy ever does.

  I tell myself it shouldn’t bother me. He was never mine to begin with. So then why does the thought of him being with Sabrina twist my stomach into knots?

  Chapter Two

  I grab a towel off my bathroom shelf, wrapping it around my waist as I head back into my room. I had hoped the cold shower would have taken the edge off, but it didn’t.

  Nothing works when I’m around Juliette.

  My dick grows impossibly harder as I remember her, laying out on the sun lounge in her tiny bathing suit, leaving nothing to the imagination. Fuck, she better not be wearing that shit anywhere else but our house.

  I know I’m not good enough for her — but neither is any other guy in this dipshit town. Juliette is too beautiful, too smart, too sweet and pure. She deserves to be worshipped.

  And god, do I want to worship her.

  It’s been torture living here for the last year, knowing that Juliette was asleep just down the hall. There have been so many nights I would pump my cock dry, needing that release so that I wouldn’t break down her door and sink myself deep inside of her.

  But I couldn’t do that. Not to her. Sweet, innocent Juliette.

  I look into the mirror and know that I am too dark, too depraved for someone like Juliette. The ink that marks my arms is more than just decorative. Growing up, long before my mother met Juliette’s uncle, we were living in the city, on the brink of poverty after my shit dad abandoned us.

  My mother worked two jobs, but it just wasn’t enough. I knew my mother struggled. I saw how she would skip eating so I could have my fill. She sacrificed every day for me. So when I was old enough, I decided I wanted to give something back to her.

  The problem was that the only way a guy in my position could do that was to work the streets. I joined a gang too young, becoming a lookout for the dealers until I eventually became one myself.

  My body is marked with the mistakes of my past, and a constant reminder that I don’t deserve this new life.

  And I sure as shit don’t deserve Juliette.

  Looking around the expensive space I now stand in, it strikes me for the hundredth time how much life can change in a year. From living in a flea-ridden, two-bedroom apartment in the city to an eight-bedroom mini-mansion in the suburbs. From constant darkness and danger to meeting Juliette and experiencing the warmth of her pure light.

  Juliette is everything I’m not. She’s lived a life of luxury, of private schools, ballet and piano lessons. She loves books and escapes most days to a gazebo on the outskirts of the property to read until the battery on her flashlight starts to flicker, forcing her to reluctantly head back inside.

  But inside of her — behind the light illuminating within her — there’s a darkness. A sadness.

  It was only a few months ago that I had learned why. Her uncle had told me that her parents had been killed in a car crash when she was just eight years old. Her uncle had taken her in and raised her as his own.

  Right before her uncle told me about Juliette’s tragic background, he had issued me a warning: do not touch my niece. He saw the way I would look at her, and how her eyes would always find mine. The way Juliette and I would laugh at our inside jokes and go for long walks along the private lake on the property.

  It was impossible to not fall for her. And I did fall hard.

  But her uncle had been clear with me: if I did anything to hurt Juliette, I was done. I would never be allowed back to his house and if my mother ever wanted to see me, she would have to leave to do it.

  I was almost willing to take the risk. For Juliette, I would have done it.

  But then her uncle had told me about all the heartbreak and the spiral of hurt and depression Juliette had suffered when her world had shattered. The nights she would cry herself to sleep and the weeks she would go without uttering a single word.

  A world-famous therapist with his own radio show, her uncle had been able to send her to all the best therapists and doctors, doing everything in his power to bring Juliette back to life. It took years, but eventually she recovered. Yet every day, her uncle still fears for Juliette, terrified that her delicate heart might shatter again.

  And his fear now lives inside of me. I knew that there was a spark between me and Juliette, and that if we pursued it, we could turn that spark into a raging fire. But I also knew the damage that fire could do, especially in my hands. I couldn’t risk breaking Juliette’s heart. In some way, I knew I would fuck it up. I always did. And Juliette didn’t deserve that.

  Fuck, I don’t deserve her. Her uncle knows it, and I can’t deny it.

  His warning was enough. I backed off. I became cold and distant. I brought over girls who meant nothing to me to try and show her what an asshole I truly was.

  At first, I knew she didn’t believe it. I had let her see parts of me no one else had seen before. But then after a few weeks, and then a few months, I could see the spark between us diminish into ash.

  And it had nearly broken me.

  The only thing keeping me going is knowing that what I’m doing will protect Juliette. And I will do everything in my power to keep protecting her.

  Even if it means breaking my own heart in the process.

  Chapter Three

  “This is way too short.”

  “Oh my god, shut up. You look gorgeous,” Sabrina says, poking her head out of the bathroom as she finishes her makeup.

  I re-examine my reflection in the mirror. Gorgeous? That’s a rare compliment coming from Sabrina.

  Do I really look gorgeous? I press my palms against my hips, striking
a pose before glancing over to make sure Sabrina isn’t watching. For the first time, I don’t just feel gorgeous, I feel sexy.

  The light purple floral dress I’m wearing hugs every curve, landing mid-thigh. It’s the shortest dress I’ve ever worn. I’ve never really thought dresses looked good on me. I’m too short, too curvy. But paired with these wedges that add an extra three inches, I feel like a new woman: one that is beautiful, sexy and powerful.

  I’m surprised by the range of emotions that come up as I look at my reflection. I’ve never been one to feel sexy or powerful. Pretty? Maybe. Beautiful? Sure. But sexy? Never. And powerful? No way.

  I’m the very definition of a wallflower. After losing both my parents so young, I had decided that the only way to live life would be to play it safe. If I didn’t put myself out there, I would never get hurt. I knew I would never be able to survive another hurt that big again. So for years, I’ve sat on the fringes of life, watching everyone else enjoy while I hide away.

  But this dress? These heels? This is definitely not an outfit that will let me hide out. I am, quite literally, exposed.

  It scares me as much as it excites me.

  Am I ready for this?

  I pull my hair out of my ponytail. If I am going to put myself out there tonight, I am going to go all in. I pin back my curls with a simple silver pin that belonged to my mother. I try to always incorporate a piece of jewelry or accessory from my mother to help me feel connected with her.

  Sabrina pops her head out of the bathroom again. My stomach flips when I watch her mouth gape and her eyes pop.

  “Wow, you look really … different,” she says, her voice noticeably less friendly. She squares her shoulders and flips her hair over her shoulder. “Are you sure you don’t want me to do your make-up? It would really make you look nicer!”