Hayden (A Next Generation Carter Brother #4) - Lisa Helen Gray
PROLOGUE
Men!
Time and time again I’ve gone through the same crap with the opposite sex. Mostly with the men I’ve dated. I don’t know why I bother. If I were more attracted to females, I’d be putting all my efforts there.
I’d probably get more orgasms too.
Russell, my current boyfriend of two months, is hit or miss. And not just in bed. He’s good looking with a bit of roughness to him, just the way I like it, but he has his flaws. In fact, he has a lot of them. The only reason I’ve put up with the wanker this long is because I don’t want to prove that my exes were right when they said I self-sabotage my relationships.
Maybe I do. Maybe I don’t.
What I do know is that I’m not this person. I don’t let anyone walk over me.
Tonight is New Year’s Eve, and Russell and I were meant to be spending it together at a new club that opened in town. It’s cold, and I’m wearing a black shimmery dress that drops just below the globes of my arse. It’s girly, along with the underwear I spent a fortune on to give Russell a show later tonight; a last ditch-effort to save our relationship.
I’m glad I didn’t let Hope talk me into wearing stilettos. Instead, I opted for my black ankle boots, giving me comfort and a rocking look.
Twenty minutes I waited outside the club, which was ten minutes longer than I would have given any other guy. This isn’t the first time Russell has cancelled on me, but at least with all those other times, he had the decency to text or call. I haven’t heard a peep from him tonight, so unless he’s dying, I’m going to kill him.
Fuck trying to prove others wrong, and fuck Russell. No one treats me this way and gets away it.
With that revelation in mind, I head to the door, anger simmering inside of me.
My frozen finger hovers over the call button to his flat, ready to push his number, when a guy who looks to be in his mid-fifties pushes open the door. Smiling at me, his teeth rotten and yellow, he says in a gentle voice, “Go on in, out of the cold, little one.”
I wink, sliding past him as he holds the door open. “It’s the small ones you have to watch out for.”
He laughs. “Yep. My wife would tear me a new one if I ever stepped out of line. She was small, but fierce.”
“Happy New Year,” I tell him, waving goodbye.
“Happy New Year,” he calls after me.
The door shuts, blocking the cold breeze and no doubt saving my legs from turning blue. I make my way across the foyer and push the button to call the lift.
There’s a buzz echoing from a light flickering down the hallway, yells and screams coming from adults and children in rooms above. I grimace when I hear doors being slammed and smell the foul odour surrounding the short entrance.
I’d never be able to live in a flat. The noise alone would make me commit murder. It just seems to echo, making the infuriating sounds so much worse.
When the doors open, I step into the lift and press the button for the sixth floor, before crossing my arms over my chest. The lift jolts as it ascends, and I wince, wishing I could have taken the stairs. But during my second visit to this charming building, I learned that they are far riskier. Crackheads sleep on the stairs, along with the homeless, trying to keep warm. Some are okay, but others need to learn when to leave another person alone.
Yet it was the bad odour that made me regret taking them. It’s what I imagine a garbage dump smells like.
I scan the tiny space of the lift, cringing at the smell that is no doubt coming from the yellow liquid puddled in the corner. It’s covered in graffiti, and even though it has a camera in the corner, my guess is, it doesn’t work.
It’s nothing like my brother Landon’s old flat, which is upscale, warm and inviting. This place seems like it was built with no care and is now forgotten to those who are meant to keep up with the maintenance.
But here is all Russell can afford on the hours he gets at work.
And since he’s the first guy I’ve dated that has a job and doesn’t live with his parents, I don’t mind where he lives. It isn’t like