Bottoms Up: The Rock Bottom Series, Book 1 Read online

  I limped my way to Brooke’s bed and plopped down beside her causing her to bounce on the mattress. She didn’t even notice. The music was still blaring through the apartment, but it was much quieter on this side of the hall.

  “Brooke.” I shook her shoulder and her blonde hair swayed with the movement.

  “Hello.” I shook harder. “Earth to Brooke.”

  There was no movement whatsoever other than what I was causing. She was completely dead to the world. When I bounced up and down on the mattress and tickled her foot with no results, I chalked her up as a lost cause.

  I momentarily considered just forgetting about the music and trying to go back to bed, but when I walked back out into the hall the song changed and cheering broke out.

  “Are you kidding me?” I said out loud to myself.

  The sound of several voices drunkenly singing the lyrics to a song I didn’t recognize had me marching my way out of my apartment and to the apartment next door.

  I knocked on the door and waited several moments with no answer. The singing was still going strong, and I wasn’t surprised that they didn’t hear me. I raised my fist in the air and pounded again, this time louder.

  The door swung open and the voices that I thought were loud a moment ago seemed to triple in volume. A tall man who could only be described as a dark Adonis stood in the doorway. His hair was a dark brown that complemented his dark tan perfectly. I couldn’t tell what color his eyes were because I was completely distracted by the smooth smile that took over his handsome face.

  “Hello, gorgeous. I’m Liam.”

  He stuck out his large hand and slipped my much smaller, slightly sweaty one in his.

  “Are you here for the party?” His gaze roamed down my body and stopped on my chest. I followed his path and tensed when I realized I was still in my Harry Potter pajama shorts that left nothing to the imagination and a white tank top with no bra that literally directed you on which way your imagination should go.

  I tucked a strand of my raven black hair behind my ear and crossed my arms.

  “No. I’m Kennedy. I live next door.” I shuffled on my feet because I hated confrontation. “I was actually coming to ask you to turn the music down.”

  “Yo, Liam. What’s going on?” The deep southern drawl caused me to pull my gaze away from the smile on Liam’s face to see none other than the guy from the stairs.

  “Well Tucker, our little neighbor here is asking for us to turn down the noise.” Liam pointed to me and instantly got a strike against him for referring to me as little. I wasn’t a little girl, and I hated being referred to as such just because I was a woman.

  “Hello again.” He leaned against the doorframe and I watched as his eyes turned to me.

  “You’ve met?” Liam asked as he turned to look at me.

  “Yeah. She’s the girl I was telling you about earlier.”

  “So anyway,” I interrupted. “I’d love to stay and chat, but some of us have to be up early for work so if you could turn the music down just a bit, I’d appreciate it.”

  I turned away from them without waiting for a response. I could feel them watching me as I walked and tugged at the hem of my shorts to cover myself.

  “Wait,” Tucker called out, halting me, and I slowly turned to him. “What’s your name?”

  I blinked at his question and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

  “Why?”

  “Why do I want to know your name?” he asked.

  I nodded my head.

  “We’re neighbors now. I think we should at least know each other’s names.”

  “Well, Tucker.” I took a step back toward my door. “As one good neighbor to another,” I cocked an eyebrow at him. “Turn down the music and I’ll think about telling you my name.”

  Then I scurried to my door and slammed it shut behind me.

  3

  Firecracker

  I felt like I had a hangover, and I wasn’t even at a party last night. Instead, the party came to me, at least through my wall. The music did get turned down after I went next door, and I couldn’t be certain, but I think that most of their party guests left shortly after as well. I had buried my head under my pillow to block out the embarrassment that I felt after my interaction with Tucker and Liam.

  Liam was hot, really hot. He had dark brown hair and a tan to match it. As soon as I laid eyes on him, I knew exactly why Brooke had invited them over for dinner.

  But he had nothing on Tucker.

  When Liam had opened the door, I had breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn’t Tucker. After our incident on the stairs, I wasn’t sure if I could face him.

  I should have known that I wasn’t that lucky.

  As soon as he made his way to the door, I instantly felt myself become more awkward. More nervous.

  And I knew he could tell.

  I think I managed to get about four hours of sleep total. I was sleep-deprived, grumpy, and in desperate need of coffee. Slinging my purse over my shoulder, I grabbed all of my camera equipment and made my way out of the apartment. I glanced at Tucker’s quiet door as I passed by.

  When I arrived downtown, the couple whose engagement photos I was taking was waiting for me next to an older industrial building. It was kind of my thing. I loved photography. Every single thing about it. I loved taking something that may have looked normal or unimpressive to someone else and showing it to the world through a new perspective. But my true passion was capturing architecture.

  I absolutely loved it.

  There was something about the sharp lines of an old or new building. The way it stood strong, breaking through the sky in an almost impossible way. The unique curves and details that are so easily looked over. There was something about a structure that was once so grand being forgotten. The delicate rust, the years of wear from the hands that once worked there. I could capture it with my lens and give it life again.

  I started photographing weddings, engagements, children, etc… for the money. While it wasn’t my true passion, I did love doing it, and it paid the bills. There were a lot more people in the market for wedding photos than there were for architecture. But when I did get a chance to do them, I jumped at the opportunity.

  The building that the newly engaged couple was standing by was covered in bright red paint that had chipped and worn off through the years. The brown brick peeked through the bright color and gave the building character that I was sure it lacked when it was freshly painted. It was my favorite building to shoot engagement photos next to. The couple looked to be almost the exact opposite of each other. She was small and delicate somehow with her straight brown hair and bright smile. Her fiancé, on the other hand, sported a massive beard and a man bun on the top of his head. He towered over her, but somehow, they fit together so perfectly.

  “Hey, guys.” I waved at the couple, Mia and Rob. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

  Mia walked straight up to me and pulled me into a hug. It wasn’t really my thing, but her smile and good spirit were pretty infectious.

  “Hi, Kennedy. We are so happy to meet you. We are so excited for today.”

  I chuckled as I pulled myself out of her grip and stuck my hand out to Rob.

  “Hi. I’m Rob.”

  “Hey, Rob. Killer man bun.” I pointed to the top of his head.

  “Thanks.” His sweet smile took over his face, and I instantly knew that I was going to like the both of them.

  I could usually tell within minutes of meeting the people I was going to photograph if we were going to mesh well or not, and it was important. The people who I felt somehow connected to always ended up with stellar photos. I liked to think that all my photos were good, but there was just something extra special about those. Something magical.

  “So,” I started pulling my camera out of my bag, “do the two of you have any specific ideas in mind?”

  “Honestly,” Mia looked over at Rob, “we instantly fell in love with your work as soon as we saw
it. We really trust you and what you think will look best.”

  “Thank you. You two will make some amazing photos.” I smiled at her, but on the inside, I was beaming.

  It wasn’t uncommon for me to get complimented on my work, but every time someone did, it filled me with so much pride that I thought I would burst at the seams. I don’t know if it was something I would ever get used to, but I hoped that I didn’t.

  “Okay. I’d like to start at the front of the building if that’s okay with you all. It is the best place to catch the sunlight.”

  “That sounds great.” Mia beamed at me, and I couldn’t help being as excited for the shoot as she was.

  We went through several poses and moved through downtown taking advantage of all the older buildings as a backdrop. Mia and Rob’s love was easy to capture, and their laughter throughout the entire shoot made my job not only easy but fun. By the time we were done, I had a camera full of amazing photos begging for me to edit and a large smile on my face. I hugged the couple goodbye and told them that I couldn’t wait to shoot their wedding which was one hundred percent true. Weddings weren’t my favorite thing in the world, but when it was for a couple like them, I couldn’t wait.

  By the time I made it back to our apartment, I was tired but blissfully happy. There was just something about holding my camera in my hand and using the click of my finger to capture something that had nothing to do with me that seemed to make my worries go out the window. It had a way of centering me that I hadn’t been able to find with anything else.

  I walked through our front door and the smell of marinara sauce hit my nose. It smelled delicious, but it was such a rare thing for Brooke to cook that I was a little concerned about what she was making. But then the sound of male laughter hit my ears and panic filled my chest when I remembered that she had invited our new neighbors over for dinner.

  Screw her and her neighborliness.

  I tiptoed through the living room to make it to my room before they heard me, but Brooke had some sort of spidey sense and knew I was there without ever seeing me.

  “Kennedy, is that you?” she called through the apartment.

  “Yeah. I’m just putting my bags down,” I yelled back then dragged my butt to my bedroom to give myself a pep talk to come back out and face Tucker.

  I took my time and went ahead and plugged my camera into my computer so my images from today would download. I stood in front of the mirror and looked at myself in my black leggings, white blouse, and black flats and decided that nothing else I put on would really make me look any better. I ran a brush through my hair even though it was still stick straight from this morning, then I finally made my way out of my room and headed toward the kitchen.

  Tucker was in the living room bent down looking at my book collection with a beer in his hand when I walked in. It took everything inside me not to pull him away from my babies, but I decided that confrontation with our new neighbor for the second time in less than twenty-four hours probably wasn’t a good idea.

  “Who’s got such an eclectic taste in reading materials?” Tucker asked without realizing I was standing behind him.

  “That would be me.” I walked up beside him when he looked over his shoulder with a large smirk on his face. “Brooke isn’t much of a reader.”

  “I didn’t take you for a romance fan.” He took a sip of his beer while looking up and down my body making every inch of my skin tingle.

  “What exactly did you take me for then?” I put my hands on my hips. I didn’t know what it was about him, but almost every word that came out of his mouth seemed to put me on the defense.

  “I don’t know. Maybe something less fun or romantic. Zombies maybe?” His grin was even bigger now, and I knew he was trying to get a rise out of me.

  “I’m not that into zombies actually. I’m more into fantasy.” I shrugged my shoulders.

  “Uh huh. So Harry Potter and,” he ran his fingers across my favorite books, “A Court of Thorn and Roses. You’re one of those girls then.” He said it as if he knew everything he would ever need to know about me before taking another sip of his beer, and I fought the urge to pull the bottle away from his lips and smash it over his head.

  “Let me guess,” I said dramatically. “You’re probably really into football, and I bet you’re killing it in your fantasy league. But your true champion status probably comes from beer pong.”

  He laughed deep and long, and I could feel a small smile tugging on my lips even though I didn’t want it to be there.

  “You’re a firecracker, aren’t you?” He cocked his head to the side and looked me over again as if he was trying to figure me out.

  I was about to come back with some awesome rebuttal that I hadn’t even thought of yet when he pointed over my shoulder at the photos on the wall.

  “Where did you get these pictures from?” He walked toward one of my shots of an old abandoned barn I had taken a couple years ago. “They are amazing.”

  “They are just something I collect.” I looked away from him before he could read the lie on my face. I wasn’t sure why I lied to him. Actually, that’s a lie too. I knew exactly why I didn’t tell him that I took them. I didn’t want him to make a joke out of my work. He was so easygoing. Full of jokes and conniving smirks. My photography was sacred to me, and I couldn’t handle him saying something bad about it.

  “Dinner’s ready,” Brooke called out to us.

  Tucker waved his hand toward the kitchen and waited for me to walk in front of him. I thought I heard him chuckle when I walked past, but when I looked back at him, he had his beer up against his smiling lips.

  Liam was already sitting at our dining room table while Brooke weaved her way around the space and set the last of dinner on the table. I quickly sat down beside Liam in hopes that I wouldn’t have to sit next to Tucker. It was childish, I knew that but I hadn’t even known him two full days yet, and he was driving me crazy.

  I didn’t know what made me think my plan would actually work. Tucker pulled out the seat next to me and plopped down with that same irritating smirk on his lips. He knew that I was trying to avoid sitting next to him, I could read it on his face, but I could also tell that getting on my nerves was becoming a game to him.

  I wasn’t sure what had caused my irritation with him, but I did know that it was overwhelming. He was hot as hell, and he knew it. There was no way that he didn’t. He reminded me of every douche bag I had ever dated.

  You know the type.

  In the beginning, he would treat me as if I was perfect. He would open the door, take me out, and be the guy of my dreams, but as time would roll on, my flaws would come out.

  “You’re so beautiful for a bigger girl.” I couldn’t tell you how many times I had heard that non-compliment. It baffled me how anyone ever thought they were giving me kudos for managing to be pretty and thick. My second favorite was, “If you lost a few pounds, you’d be so much prettier.”

  I always wanted to respond with a, “Yeah? You’d be so much hotter with a few extras inches on your dick,” but I never did. I just smiled and pretended like calling me pretty with a disclaimer should make me happy.

  I was a confident girl. My photography was amazing, I could beat just about anyone I knew in trivia, and I was pretty, but the one thing that always seemed to bring my confidence down a notch was my weight.

  I had struggled with my weight for years. I wasn’t obese, but I had enough cushion for me to be in a different category when describing women. My good luck with men was directly related to my insecurities. I was always attracted to the guy who made me feel good about myself in the beginning then dug into my spirit little by little as time went on. I always knew it was happening, and I always said I wouldn’t allow it to happen again, until it did.

  My last boyfriend, Sam, was the prime example. I thought he was perfect. I wanted him to be perfect, but the only thing he was good at was being a lousy boyfriend. He blatantly told me that he thought I needed to lose we
ight, and after I cried my eyes out to Brooke, I marched my too big for him ass over to his apartment to break it off. I was pumped. My feminist flag was flying high, and I wasn’t going to let anyone make me feel bad about myself. Especially not him. Only it wasn’t that simple. I walked in on him sleeping with a stick thin girl who I had seen hanging around his group of friends.

  Her name was Ashley, and she was always looking for a man to sink her teeth into. Specifically, a man with money. I had once heard her talking to her friend in the bathroom about how she needed to “lock down” one of Sam’s friends who had enough money to take care of her for life. She didn’t know that I was in the stall, and I didn’t know she was such a whore. But she knew I was dating him.

  Sam didn’t act remorseful at all when I caught him, and neither did she. She just smiled a smile at me that made me want to smack it off her perfect face, but instead, I walked out and didn’t look back. I promised myself I would never date a guy like him again. I hardened my heart to the bullshit, and I worked out my aggression at the gym. I managed to lose about thirty pounds since he taught me that valuable life lesson, but I didn’t attribute my weight loss to the heartbreak. All that credit went to me and me alone. It was something I wanted, so I did it.

  But I still wasn’t comfortable with my weight loss. I got more attention from guys when we went out, and when I looked in the mirror, I loved what I saw. I would never be a thin girl, but I was learning to love my curves. I did still have a habit of pulling down my top when it wasn’t perfectly in place. It annoyed the crap out of Brooke.

  She saw me as a bombshell, but as my best friend, her opinion was jaded. I knew I would grow more comfortable in my new body, but it would take time. I was still a big girl. I just had a lot more tone than I used to.

  I think that was what annoyed me the most about Tucker. The first time I met him, he held one of my most uncomfortable, both literally and figuratively, items of clothing in his hand. While I didn’t have the same stomach that I once did, I still wore my Spanx from time to time to make me feel more comfortable, and I didn’t need Tucker to be privy to my insecurities.