Regret (Under My Skin Book 1) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Other Book You May Enjoy

  Other Titles by Christina Lee

  Blurb

  Brin

  Nick

  Thank you for reading REGRET

  About the Author

  Where to Find Christina Lee

  Acknowledgments

  An Excerpt from THE FAINTEST SPARK

  Regret

  Under My Skin, Book #1

  Christina Lee

  Copyright © 2017 by Christina Lee. All rights reserved.

  Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without prior written permission by the author(s), except where permitted by law.

  REGRET is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All products and/or brand names mentioned are registered trademarks of their respective holders/companies.

  Published by Christina Lee

  Cover design by Kanaxa

  Editing and proofing services provided by IndiGo Marketing and Design, Indie Author’s Apprentice, and Judy’s Proofreading

  Contents

  Other Titles by Christina Lee

  Blurb

  1. Brin

  2. Nick

  3. Brin

  4. Nick

  5. Nick

  6. Brin

  7. Brin

  8. Nick

  9. Nick

  10. Brin

  11. Nick

  12. Brin

  13. Brin

  14. Nick

  15. Brin

  16. Brin

  17. Nick

  18. Nick

  19. Brin

  20. Brin

  21. Nick

  22. Nick

  23. Brin

  24. Brin

  25. Nick

  26. Nick

  27. Brin

  28. Brin

  29. Nick

  30. Brin

  31. Brin

  32. Nick

  33. Nick

  34. Brin

  35. Nick

  36. Brin

  37. Nick

  Thank you for reading REGRET

  About the Author

  Where to Find Christina Lee

  Acknowledgments

  An Excerpt from THE FAINTEST SPARK

  Other Book You May Enjoy

  Other Titles by Christina Lee

  Male/Male Romance

  There You Stand

  The Darkest Flame

  The Faintest Spark

  The Deepest Blue

  The Hardest Fall

  The Sweetest Goodbye

  Co-written with Nyrae Dawn:

  Touch the Sky

  Chase the Sun

  Paint the Stars

  Between Breaths Series (New Adult Romance)

  All of You

  Before You Break

  Whisper to Me

  Promise Me This

  There You Stand (m/m)

  Adult Contemporary Romance

  Two of Hearts

  Three Sacred Words

  Twelve Truths and a Lie

  Blurb

  When Brian “Brin” Schubert’s condo floods, he takes his co-worker up on the offer to stay on his crappy futon for a while. The last thing he expects is for his friend’s roommate to be the one guy he despises the most. The same guy who stomped on his heart senior year of high school. And by the looks of the girl on his arm, the same man who’s still deep inside the closet.

  Nicholas Dell never predicted that eleven years later, one of his greatest regrets would show up on his doorstep down on his luck. Nick has made some terrible mistakes—story of his life—and he’s been paying for them ever since. And if the guilt and shame aren’t enough, his first crush had to turn into one of the sexiest men he’s ever laid eyes on.

  Nick and Brin have weeks to steer clear of each other. Weeks to avoid strangling each other. But when stubbornness leads to skyrocketing sexual tension, hate-sex doesn’t seem like such an awful way to work through their frustration. Except hate is a powerful emotion, especially when it’s turned inward. And in Nick’s case he’s been drowning in a sea of self-loathing for so long, he can’t see his way out.

  As Brin reconnects with Nick, his perception of what really happened in their past begins to change. He’s finally ready to forgive him and take a second chance on the one guy who stirs him like no other. But Nick’s demons are complicated, heart-wrenching…demanding. So devastating, he might never allow himself true happiness—even with the one man who’s always owned his heart.

  To the kid whose story I read about years ago in the newspaper. I always hoped you could climb out of the darkness. This is for you.

  1

  Brin

  I pushed the key in the lock at Doggie Styles, securing the glass entrance for the night. My co-worker Elijah had cashed out our last dog—a cute-but-yippy schnauzer—on the grooming side but I was stuck on the daycare end waiting for the final pickup. Elijah had already asked for my Chinese takeout order before hitting the road, letting me know I’d see him within the hour. I took a deep breath and headed to my Volkswagen, where more of my clothes were piled sky high in the back seat.

  My life had been running smoothly for far too many weeks in a row, and I knew something was bound to fuck it up. So when I’d stepped foot inside my condo a couple nights back and my feet sloshed in the standing water from the burst pipe covering every square inch of my cozy place, I figured the time had come. This was why I couldn’t have nice things. Not even a respectable boyfriend for fuck’s sake, which is why I finally deleted my Tinder account weeks ago. Time to finally get my shit together, and this setback was a definite reminder.

  Elijah had offered for me to stay on the futon in his home office until my place dried out and the flooring was replaced. When I’d walked into my bedroom to retrieve some basic necessities yesterday, giant industrial fans had been set up to help with the task. But the floor still squished as I walked, and the condo was beginning to smell musty. Fuck my life.

  Thankfully, my collection of Marvel and DC comics had been on the highest shelf in my closet, so the water had never reached the box. Most of them had come from my Uncle Rick who’d died from AIDS when I was ten years old, so they had become one of my most prized possessions. Now they were safely tucked away in the trunk of this car.

  I’d definitely miss the creature comforts of my condo but was glad for the helping hand. I supposed I could’ve stayed with my parents on the east side the entire month, which would’ve been a hike to work every day. But quite honestly, the blank expression on my father’s face the last couple of nights—along with the obvious tension around his eyes—made me accept Elijah’s offer in about one second flat. Mom always tried to smooth the distant relationship between my father and me, but I didn’t think I could hack it for one more day.

  I slid onto the black leather seat, glad my Jetta was still in decent shape, and if I had wood to knock on, I’d definitely take advantage. As it was, I’d already spent most of the day on the phone with the insurance company as they assessed the loss. According to the claims agent all of the damage should be covered, so that was one good thing that came out of this. Even if it put me out for weeks on end.

  As I drove the back streets from Rocky River to Clifton Avenue in Lakewood, it reminded me how much I liked this neighborhood with its century-old homes located in close proximity to Lake Erie. Elijah lived in a quaint and spacio
us building with a roommate who’d been out when I was dropping off the majority of my stuff yesterday. I’d be sleeping in their spare bedroom-turned-office, and it felt comfortable enough as I waited for my condo to be repaired. Besides, no way I’d want to be a pain in the ass houseguest when I was the one imposing on them.

  I had never met Nick, but I’d be sure to thank him and apologize for any inconvenience my staying there might cause. Elijah would tell me I needed to stop saying sorry for every damn thing in life and then I’d roll my eyes and remind him that I was a work in progress. Apologizing for who I was and what I needed just seemed to be my life’s mission.

  I finally found a place to park on the busy road, which would become a pain after a few days’ time. Both Elijah and his roommate paid extra for space in the parking garage. That was the way to go if you wanted to live on an active street close to a busy intersection lined with several stores and restaurants.

  Lifting the hangers from the back seat, I gently draped the clothes over my arm before twisting to slam the door shut. Pushing apartment two-oh-two on the board, it took Elijah several seconds to buzz me up. He stood with the door ajar when I got up the second flight of stairs. Knowing I needed to head straight for the office before my arm got numb, he simply followed behind me past the bathroom to the tiny third bedroom.

  “Think you’re all set now?” he asked as I slid the closet door open with one hand and then lifted the hangers from my other arm.

  “Yeah,” I replied, lining the T-shirts in a mostly neat row before sliding the door shut again. “If I need any more toiletries, I’ll just buy them.”

  “Good plan.” Elijah glanced over his shoulder when we heard two more voices—one of which I suspected was his roommate.

  “Nick just got home with Sarah,” he said with a smirk. And then whispered, “His newest friend.”

  The only thing I’d heard about Nick over the past year was that he was a cool guy, always busy, and dated his share of women. I was suddenly glad Nick and Elijah’s bedrooms were on the other side of the apartment and the kitchen and living room separated us.

  Elijah also made sure to mention that Nick was hot as fuck but wouldn’t dare state that fact in front of his boyfriend, Stewart, who could be a jealous prick, not that I’d ever tell Elijah that completely sober.

  I sort of wondered if Nick felt the same, since Stewart was bound to stay over quite a bit. Obviously, Nick had to be mostly cool with the arrangement or Elijah would’ve mentioned it. Although, maybe not. He blabbed about every damn thing, except when it came to his relationship with Stewart, which he considered sacrosanct.

  “Brin, let me introduce you to my roommate,” Elijah said as I followed him through the short hallway to the living room. “This is Nick and his friend, Sarah.”

  Sarah’s curly locks were nearly as blond as mine and Nick’s black hair was mostly tucked beneath a worn blue baseball cap. The two of them were cozy on the couch, Sarah sitting with her legs tucked under her and Nick with his ankle crossed over his knee. They were eating Chinese food off paper plates resting in their laps. Sarah simply waved as her mouth was full from a bite of food but Nick responded, “Hey, how you doing?” after swallowing a piece of what looked like an egg roll.

  The smell of fried rice hit my nostrils and when my stomach rumbled in response, I realized just how famished I was. I was dying to dive right into the second brown bag resting on the coffee table that more than likely contained my food, but I didn’t want to be rude.

  When Nick leaned forward with an outstretched hand, for some reason I zeroed right in on the neatly groomed scruff on his chin. When he tilted his face to look directly into my eyes, I froze, our fingers interlocked. A startled gasp sprang from my lips, and Nick’s eyebrows slammed together in confusion right before they lifted straight to his hairline.

  The same cherry-colored lips, with a center dimple drilled into his chin. Those sad, amber-colored eyes that shuttered out the world.

  Holy fuck. Elijah’s roommate was Nicholas Dell.

  The same Nicholas Dell from Jefferson High who practically ruined me for other guys.

  The same Devil’s third baseman that begged his math tutor to suck his cock in the locker room after practice.

  And given the female nestled up beside him, it was the same Nicholas Dell who was still deep in the closet.

  2

  Nick

  “Holy shit,” I muttered, and then awkwardly slid my hand from Brin’s clammy grasp. My fingers were trembling and I didn’t even understand why. It had been what—eleven years?

  Brin—also known as Brian Schubert. Brian-fucking-Shubert from high school. The high school I’d transferred to sophomore year after the incident that would haunt me the rest of my life.

  “You guys know each other?” Sarah asked from behind me. I had only been hanging out with her the past couple of weeks and she was a great girl but right now I needed nothing but white noise so I could think.

  “Uh, yeah. From school.” I glanced at Brin, trying like hell to stop my gaze from roaming all over him but failed miserably. He was even cuter now—his bright, blond curls still unruly, his sharp cheekbones more defined. Beneath his eyes were smudges of black liner, both ears were pierced with small, silver hoops, and given the scowl on that perfectly pretty face, he still absolutely hated me.

  Well, the feeling was mutual. Fucker wouldn’t even give me a minute to explain, to apologize for not having his back that one day in the locker room. I could still picture the way his face fell and then his jaw tightened as he stormed out. Yeah, I disappointed Brian Schubert big time. But I would’ve failed somebody else even more. And I couldn’t bear that—not for one single second–because I had already ruined his life. Everybody’s life.

  “Seriously?” Elijah asked, looking almost as thunderstruck as Brin. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Tell you what?” Brin replied, his nostrils flaring. “I had no idea I’d run into him again.”

  His tone of voice said he hoped like hell he hadn’t. Well, neither did I. That day was not my proudest moment. I had a lot to make up for in my life, so I’d only added that incident to my long laundry list.

  “So, uh, how’ve you been?” I asked only for something to say or at least to try and break the tension—but also because I had wondered about him over the years, even though it was uncomfortable to think about. Not as difficult as other things, but painful enough.

  When Brin’s gaze snapped to mine, my eyes pleaded with him to be cool, at least for now. If he wanted to kick my teeth in, there’d be time for that later. A few weeks’ time, in fact—if he even decided to stay here after all this.

  “Been fine,” he answered awkwardly. My gaze scaled down to his red-and-pouty mouth. Those same meaty lips that slurped at the head of my cock all clumsy and sloppy and amateurish at best—but still hot as fucking sin. The same lips that I’d thought about numerous sleepless nights since then.

  To add more salt to the wound, my skin prickled from the memory—what the fuck was wrong with me? I took a step back and sat my ass down on the couch next to the girl I’d invited over for Christ’s sake.

  “You know that Brin works with me at Doggie Styles.” Elijah handed a paper plate to Brin and reached for the food containers, scooping some of the fried rice onto both of their plates. As Brin settled himself on the furthest chair across the room, Elijah cleared his throat and threw each of us a stern look, like a kindergarten teacher forcing us to make nice. “And his condo…I’m sure he can fill you in himself…”

  Brin’s jaw tightened further, as if not willing to give anything more of himself away. But we were thrown into this sticky situation by chance, so we needed to make the best of it.

  Besides, hadn’t he ever wondered about me over the years? Wishful thinking, I supposed. I had hurt him and he walked away without a second glance. Story of my life. I had wounded plenty of people I longed to be closer to.

  Suddenly Brin placed his fork down and found h
is voice. “So, yeah, my condo flooded from a burst pipe and um, thanks for letting me crash here for a while.” Our gazes met across the room and I offered him a brief nod, relieved he’d decided not to make this more awkward than it already was.

  I used to get lost in those cerulean-blue eyes throughout trig tutoring sessions and later during the couple times he got down on his knees and glanced up at me, pupils blown wide. Fucking hell. Thankfully his next question saved me from driving down memory lane again. “So Elijah mentioned you run some business?”

  “Engraving. Heartfelt Impressions,” I practically mumbled. Saying the name aloud sounded fake to my own ears. But most of my life was artificial, so what was one more thing? My mom had apparently named the place way back before I was even born and the store had been solid income for my parents over the years. “It was my dad’s business. I took over after he passed away almost five years ago.”

  Brin’s fork stopped midway to his lips. I could tell that revelation had thrown him, probably because he remembered my dad from high school—everybody did. He was ever present at all sporting events, banquets, and fundraisers. “I’m…sorry to hear that.”