My Favourite Mistake

My Favorite Mistake

Chelsea M. Cameron

www.miraink.co.uk

Two secrets.

One bet.

Who will break first?

Taylor Caldwell can’t decide if she wants to kiss her new college roommate or punch him.

On the one hand, Hunter Zaccadelli is a handsome, blue-eyed bundle of charm. On the other, he’s a tattooed, guitar-playing bundle of bad boy. Maybe that’s why Taylor’s afraid of falling in love with him, or anyone else. She doesn’t want to get burned, so she needs him gone before it’s too late.

Hunter himself has been burned before, but Taylor’s sexy laugh and refusal to let him get away with anything make her irresistible. Determined not to be kicked out of her life without a fight, Hunter proposes a bet: if she can convince him she truly loves or hates him, he’ll leave the apartment--and leave her alone. The problem is, the more time they spend together, the less she hates him, and the more she moves toward love.

But when the man behind Taylor’s fear of giving up her heart resurfaces, she has to decide: trust Hunter with her greatest secret, or do everything in her power to win that bet and drive him away forever.

My Favorite Mistake is a New Adult Contemporary Romance and is suitable for ages 18 and up. Contains violence, language and sexual situations.

For anyone who has ever made a mistake in their life…Maybe it wasn’t a mistake after all.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Acknowledgments

About the Author

One

The first time I met Hunter Zaccadelli, I punched him in the face. Granted, he completely and totally deserved it. He also asked for it, in so many ways.

When our fourth roommate bailed on us three days before school, Darah, Renee and I assumed housing would take care of it and shove some poor unfortunate in with us. Probably some poor girl who had decided to switch colleges at the last minute to follow a boyfriend, or someone who had their apartment plans fall through. We weren’t sure what to expect, but come move-in day, I did not expect who was waiting outside when I opened the door. I knew the upper-class housing was coed, but never in my wildest and craziest dreams did I think it would actually happen to us.

Instead of a desperate and frazzled girl, he showed up with a footlocker, a backpack and a guitar. It was so beyond cliché that I didn’t say anything for the full three seconds it took for me to assess him. Dark hair buzzed so short his head was almost shaved, purposeful five o’clock shadow, piercing blue eyes and at least a foot on my five feet. And a cocky smile to top it all off. He might as well have had Trouble tattooed on his forehead. Speaking of ink, I could just make out some on his arm, but I couldn’t see what it said. His thin T-shirt hugged his chest in a way that didn’t leave much to the imagination. Maybe he’d borrowed it from his little brother.

“Are you Darah, Renee or Taylor? You look like a Taylor to me,” he said, looking me up and down.

I wasn’t at my best, considering I was dressed for moving heavy objects in a blue UMaine T-shirt and black soccer shorts, and I had my light brown hair in a haphazard bun against the back of my neck. His eyes raked up and down twice, and for some reason the way he assessed me made me blush and want to kick him in the balls at the same time.

“There must be a mistake,” I said.

He adjusted his bag on his shoulder. “That’s a creative name. What do you shorten it to? Missy?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

His grin somehow got wider. Either his dad was a dentist, or he was really into flossing because those teeth were pretty perfect. I noticed things like that, having gone through my own dental saga between three years of braces and night headgear. I still had to wear a retainer every night.

“Is that her?” Darah called from her room, where she was arranging her photo frames so they were exactly level. She was neurotic like that.

“I’m Hunter, by the way. Hunter Zaccadelli.”

Of course his name was Hunter. The only Hunter I’d ever known had been a complete douche. Looked like this guy was going to carry on the tradition.

He pointed to his footlocker. “So, should I bring my stuff in or…?”

My brain wouldn’t stop misfiring.

“Who’s that?” Darah finally emerged. Our other roommate, Renee, was still unloading stuff from her car.

“New roommate, hey,” he said.

“You’re the new roommate?” Her eyebrows migrated so they were nearly hidden under her dark bangs. She gave him the same up and down as I did, but he didn’t do the same to her. He was still looking at me.

“Yeah, my housing plans fell through at the last minute. My cousin was going to let me live at his place, but that didn’t work out, so here I am. Do you mind if I come in now?”

“You can’t live here,” I said, crossing my arms.

“Why? This is a coed living facility, last time I checked.” He flashed his grin again and shouldered his way into the room, completely ignoring me as his chest brushed mine, and I got a whiff of cologne. It wasn’t that cheap crap that punches you in the nose. It was spicier, almost like cinnamon. I stood my ground, but he had height and weight on me. But I had surprise on my side.

“Well, it’s better than sleeping on my cousin’s couch,” he said, plunking his bag on the floor and surveying the room. The suites were small, with a kitchen and tiny nook for a dining table on one side and a tiny living room for an apartment-size couch and a recliner on the other. The bedrooms were the worst, with two lofted beds crammed perpendicular to each other along the wall, the desks crammed underneath, and room for only two small closets.

“Can I see some identification?” Darah said, propping her hands on her hips. “How do we know you’re not some random creep?”

“Do I look like some random creep?” He spread his arms out, and I finally saw what the tattoo on his left biceps was. A number seven in curling intricate script. My eyes moved up to his face.

“How are we supposed to know?” Darah moved closer to him, using her stature. They were almost the same height.

“Look, all I know is that I submitted an application and they sent me an email with a room number and your names. Here, I printed it out. Do you treat all your guests like criminals?” He drew out a many-times-folded sheet of paper and handed it to Darah. She glanced at it, sighed and handed it to me.

“Why wouldn’t they have notified us?” I said, once I’d read it. There it was in black-and-white.

“Who knows?” Darah said, still eyeing him warily.

“Oh my God, I swear I’m never moving again,” Renee said from the top of the stairs, her arms full of boxes and two bags dangling from her arms. “Who left their crap in the hallway?” She stepped over the footlocker and guitar case, giving them a look of disgust. “Has our new roommate showed up—oh, hello.” Her voice changed from irritated and dry to sweet and sugary the second she saw Hunter. “I’m guessing that’s your guitar in the hallway.” She dropped her stuff and proceeded to pop her hip out and lean to one side. Oh, please.

“This,” I said, pointing to Hunter, “is our new roommate, according to housing.”

“No way.” Renee’s eyes got wide in her tiny face. Renee looked like a blond-haired, blue-eyed china doll you plucked off a shelf and put in a Victoria’s Secret tank top. “Are you shitting me?”

“What a reception,” Hunter said.

“Shut up,” I said. He just smiled again. God, I wanted to smack that smile right off his face.

“I should probably get my junk out of the hall,” he said, going and picking up the footlocker as if it weighed nothing more than a shoebox. Show-off.

Hunter had to navigate boxes and random pillows and crap that littered the rooms, which he did with grace. He found a spot and set the footlocker down, looking at us.

“So, who am I sleeping with?” he said, leaning against the door to my bedroom.

The agreement had been that since Darah and Renee had already been roommates last year, and I was joining their little group, that the new girl would live with me. But that was so not happening now that the new girl wasn’t a girl.

“Did you seriously just say that?” I said.

At the same time Darah said, “The only free bed is in Taylor’s room.”

“There is no way he’s staying with me,” I snapped, readjusting my arms so they covered my boobs better. He’d been staring at my chest since he’d made the sleeping with comment. Not that I had much of one to speak of, but that didn’t stop his eyes from traveling there.

“No, we’re calling housing right now and straightening this out,” I said, pulling out my cell phone.

“Tay, they’re not open on Monday,” Renee said.

“I don’t care. There must be someone there. It’s move-in day.”

I grabbed the campus phone book that had been on the doormat when we’d gotten there that morning and thumbed through it until I found the number for housing.

“Aw, c’mon, Missy, you don’t want to live with me?” Who did this guy think he was? I’d known him all of ten minutes and he’d already given me a nickname and propositioned me.

“Call me that one more time…” I didn’t finish as I furiously typed in the number. Darah and Renee whispered to Hunter, but not quiet enough so I couldn’t hear them.

“It’s best to let her go when she gets like this,” Renee hissed.

“I wouldn’t mess with her,” he said as I listened to another ring.

Finally, a message picked up, telling me what the hours were and giving me some extensions I could try. I punched in the first one. No answer, but a message machine picked up. I left a short message, explaining the situation in the most urgent of terms, and then called back the original number. I didn’t stop until I’d left messages for all five of the contacts on the housing voice mail list. I slammed my phone down on the counter.

“Feel better?” Hunter said.

“No.” I chucked the phone book on the couch. Darah and Renee were looking at me like they were worried I was going to explode. I was on the verge. “If you were a gentleman, you’d offer to sleep on the couch,” I snapped.

“Well, Missy, you’ll come to find out that I’m not a gentleman. I plan to take full advantage of this situation.” My mouth dropped open in shock. No guy had ever talked to me that way.

“Is it hot in here? I think I’ll open the window,” Renee said, scurrying over to our one window, located at one end of the couch.

Darah looked at me and then Hunter and back. “Well, there’s nothing we can do right now. Let’s get his stuff in, and then maybe we can go down and see if anyone is at housing,” she said. Darah was always the peacemaker.

“Sounds good to me,” Hunter said, walking right into my bedroom as if he owned the place.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” I said, closing my eyes. I heard “Back in Black” by AC/DC coming from my room. Hunter’s ringtone.

“Hey, man. No, I just got here. Room 203. Yeah, that would be great…” He nudged the door shut, and I glanced at Renee and Darah.

“I didn’t think we were going to have to do this so early, but I think we need a roommate meeting,” I said. We’d agreed that we would have weekly roommate meetings to air our grievances. I was all for getting that shit out in the open so we didn’t end up hating each other. I’d had a horrible roommate last year, and I didn’t want to deal with that again.

I listened, but it sounded like Hunter was still on the phone. I could hear him rummaging and prayed he wouldn’t break anything. Then I would kill him.

“I don’t see what the big deal is,” Renee said. “I mean, it would be the same if one of us had a boyfriend staying over. Paul stayed over all the time when Darah and I lived here last year.”

“But that was because you were sleeping with him,” I said.

“Maybe I’ll sleep with Hunter,” she shot back. Renee had broken up with Paul extremely recently and was on the prowl for a rebound. We all knew she and Paul were meant to be and that they would eventually realize that, but Renee was still in the anger stage.

“Are you uncomfortable with staying with him, Taylor? It’s okay if you are,” Darah said.

“I can’t imagine why I would be uncomfortable about sharing an extremely small room with a guy I’ve known all of a half hour who keeps making creepy comments. Can’t imagine why I’d have a problem with that.”

“If you want, Renee and I can switch. I’ll stay with him, and Renee can stay with you,” Darah said.

“Why can’t he stay with me?” Renee whined.

“Because you’ll rape him in his sleep,” I said.

“You can’t rape the willing, Tay,” she said, winking.

“You’re disgusting.”

“How about we draw straws?” Darah said.

“Do we even have straws?” Renee said. “How about we do numbers or something? Here,” she said, grabbing a UMaine notepad that someone had left on the kitchen counter, along with a pen. “I’ll write our names down and we’ll put it in…” She grabbed the baseball cap I’d discarded earlier. “And Hunter will pick. There you go. Problem solved.”

My door opened and Hunter emerged, another grin on his face.

“You weren’t talking about me, were you?”

Like he didn’t know. I rolled my eyes as Renee wrote each of our names on little bits of paper and tossed them in my hat. She put her hand over the top and shook it up.

“Pick one,” she said, shoving the hat in his face.

“Okay,” he said, sticking his hand in and pulling out a folded slip of paper. Renee slowly unfolded it. We all waited as she paused dramatically.

“Taylor,” she said, turning it around so we could all read my name in black-and-white.

“Shit,” I said.

Two

“What’s with all the peacock stuff?”

It was an hour later, and I was just as stuck with Hunter as I was when he’d walked in the door. I’d even gone down to housing, which was right down the hill from our dorm, but no one was there. Too busy making sure the freshmen didn’t collapse under the weight of their massive electronics when they carried them down the hall, no doubt.

I was doing my best to ignore Hunter, but he wouldn’t shut up. Clearly, he was one of those guys who liked to chat.

“Don’t you know peacock feathers are bad luck?” Out of the corner of my eye, his biceps with the seven tattoo flexed as he pulled a couple of shirts out of his footlocker.

Yes, I did know they were bad luck for most people. It was none of his business why I had them everywhere, including on my comforter, hung in frames on the wall and strung on a dream catcher my sister had given me. It was none of his goddamn business.

I wished Tawny was here. My sister would have known exactly what to say to Hunter to get him to leave. She couldn’t get out of her work as a paralegal, and Mom couldn’t get off work, either. I guess they figured since I was a sophomore, moving wasn’t such a big deal. Still, I missed Tawny.

“You pissed at me, Missy?”

The nickname was the last straw. I whirled around and glared at him. “Look, I don’t know you. You don’t know me. As soon as humanly possible, I’m getting you out of here, got it? I’m not your baby. I’m not one of those girls you can smile at and crawl into bed with. Got it? Stay the fuck away from me.”

Those blue eyes seared into me. He was the kind of guy who could see things that other people couldn’t—things that I’d spent my entire life covering up and hiding from the masses. I’d only met a few people who could see past my carefully cultivated facade. I’d dropped most of them like a bad habit, with the exception of one. I’d have to squash this ASAP before he decided he might want to see what the world had done to piss me off so much.

“It’s kinda hard to stay away from you when we’re living in the same place,” he said.

“I. Know. That,” I said through gritted teeth.

He held up his hands. “Don’t be mad at me. Fate picked your name.”

“I don’t believe in fate.”

He laughed. “Me neither. I just believe in luck.” He pointed to the seven on his arm. “Never can be too careful.”

“I don’t believe in luck, either.”

“Clearly.”

We were interrupted by a booming voice. Hunter stepped over the chaos that still covered the floor and poked his head out the door.

“Mase, man, what took you so long? You get lost?”

A male voice answered, “Nah, I just got held up. This your place?” Sure, just come on in everyone.

“No, I just walked into a random room and started putting my shit in it. Yes, this is my place.”

He walked into the living room, and I followed. Darah and Renee emerged from their room. I’d heard lots of banging and yelling, so they’d probably been hanging Darah’s picture frames to her exacting specifications.

Standing in our doorway was a guy who looked like he could have been Hunter’s brother. His hair was a little lighter, his build a little stockier and his eyes a little darker, but there was no mistaking the resemblance.

“And who are these lovely ladies?” the new guy said.

“This is Taylor, Darah and Renee, my roommates,” Hunter answered.

“Dude, are you serious? How the hell do you get so lucky all the time?”

“Born under the right star,” Hunter said. “This is my cousin, Mase.”

“Nice to meet you, Mase,” Renee said, diving forward to shake his hand. Mase took it and shook her hand, looking a little dazed. “I’m Renee.”

“Nice to meet you, Renee. I’m guessing you must be Darah,” he said, pointing to Darah, who waved. “And you must be Taylor. I’ve heard so much about you.” How could he? I glared at Hunter, who made an innocent face. “That was so nice of you to take in my poor, unfortunate cousin in his time of need. I thought he was going to be able to crash on my couch, but one of my roommates gave it to another guy who was willing to pay to stay, and I was overruled. Sorry, man.”

“It’s okay,” Hunter said.

For the first time since I’d met him, I could see something other than a cocky douche. Someone real. But that person was gone behind a cocky face before I could study him closer.

“I can see that. Do you need any help?”

“I think I’m good,” Hunter said.

Renee piped right up. “I could use some muscle. My bed’s a little askew, and I can’t seem to get it in the right spot. Want to give me a hand?” She twisted from side to side, as if she was showing him what could be his if he complied. Jesus, she was so obvious.

“Sure, no problem.”

With that, we let another strange guy into our apartment. I turned my back and returned to my room, hoping no one else was going to pop in. Hunter followed me.

“Are you hungry? I was thinking of getting some Pat’s. Their delivery guys are probably swamped, so I could go get it. My treat,” he said as he grabbed some more shirts to put in his dresser.

Was he trying to be nice to me? Did he feel sorry for me? I stared at him, trying to figure him out.

“Do you like pepperoni?” His voice had lost that cocky edge. It was softer, and…No. He was the same. He was still trying to play me. I knew how those guys were. They were only nice until they got what they wanted, and if they didn’t get what they wanted, they took it.

“I’m a vegetarian,” I said and went to the bathroom, just so I could get away from him.

As I passed Darah and Renee’s room, I heard Mase saying something that made them both laugh. Great. Just great. I shut the door of the tiny bathroom and braced myself on the sink. I was losing control. I looked at myself in the mirror. The horrible lighting didn’t do much for my complexion, but it really didn’t do much for anyone. I splashed some water on my face and then hopped up on the sink, setting my back against the mirror. In a matter of a few minutes, my sophomore year had turned completely upside down.

What was I going to do? This strange guy had just invaded my life. Not only my life, but my space. Our bedroom was smaller than a double-size dorm room. We’d be stepping over each other all the time. He’d see me when I woke up in the morning. He’d be the last voice I heard when I went to bed. I was going to see that damn tattoo and that smile all the time.

Hunter Zaccadelli would be the last thing I saw when I went to bed and the first thing I’d see when I woke up. That was not going to fly.

A knock at the door made me jump, and I banged the back of my head against the mirror.

“You okay in there?” It was Hunter.

“Jesus Christ, can’t you leave me alone?” I got down off the sink and yanked the door open.

“I’ll make you a deal, Missy.”

“Why would I want to make a deal with you?”

He smirked as if he was waiting for me to say that.

“Just hear me out. If you can prove to me that you hate me, absolutely hate me, then I’ll leave. Find a couch to crash on.”

I snorted. “That should be easy. You can go pack your stuff now.”

“You haven’t heard the rest of the deal. If you can prove to me that you love me, absolutely love me, I’ll leave.” For the first time his face was serious.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I would never, ever love a guy like you.” I would never, ever love anyone, but that was beside the point.

“Prove it. If you can prove either of those things by the end of the semester, I’ll go.”

“You’re going to be out on your ass before then.”

His smile was easy. He was playing with me.

“Maybe, maybe not. But you look like the kind of girl who likes a challenge.”

The small bathroom space contracted around me, the walls pushing us closer. He took a step toward me, and then another. I backed up until my legs hit the toilet.

“Prove it to me. Show me you hate me.” His voice was soft, and his eyes were demanding. My breathing became desperate, and my vision narrowed to those blue eyes. Something snapped, and my fight instinct took over.

Before he could move closer, I pulled back and slammed my fist into his jaw and my knee into his groin. He doubled over, clutching his face and his balls.

“I fucking hate you. Never corner me again, you son of a bitch.” In his compromised position, I was able to shove around him and get the door open to find three stunned faces.

“What did you do to him?” Renee said.

“Nothing,” I said, pushing past them and running down the hall, down the stairs and out of the building. My lungs heaved as if I’d been running for miles in Gym and had just been allowed to rest. I put my hands on my knees and gasped, feeling like my lungs would never be full again.

People gave me strange looks as they unloaded lampshades and pillows and under-bed boxes from their cars. I ignored them and started walking down the sidewalk toward the parking lot. I pulled out my phone and hit Tawny’s number, hoping she was on her lunch break.