by Sandra Alex
Crossing Boundaries
Miles for Love Series
Sandra Alex
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ISBN 978-1-989427-22-4
ISBN 978-1-989427-21-7
Copyright © 2020 Sandra Alex
All rights reserved.
Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
EXTENDED EPILOGUE
DID YOU ENJOY THIS BOOK?
AUTHOR’S NOTE
PROCEED WITH CAUTION - SAMPLE
Chapter 1
Kayla
It was a struggle. After ten years I finally did it. Not one day passed when I ever considered doing the unthinkable, even though Nick did it all the time without a second thought. As I stand in front of my dresser, clad in layers of clothes I haven’t worn since…well, never mind since when. Luckily, they still fit, and so does my wedding ring. Pulling it off my finger, I realize that in nearly ten years of marriage, not once did I take my wedding band off. Underneath it, the skin is flat and shiny, like I’ve been sitting on my finger for an hour. My whole hand looks odd and feels no better. Nick never wore his wedding ring, or at least, he did when he had to, during family events and pictures and things, but the moment he was home, off it came. He hated wearing it. I hated that he hated wearing it. It’s stupid, I know. A lot of things about our marriage were stupid.
Like the whole idea that I could go back to school when our mortgage was paid. Nick changed the rules the second that happened. And that, my friends, was stupid. Fine, he came into some money when his favorite uncle died, but hell, he wanted that house paid for just as badly as I did. How was I supposed to know that him paying it off with his inheritance didn’t count as part of our agreement. I’ve been stuck in this crappy office job for long enough. The job was a consolation prize for going back to work after taking time off to help Nick start a business. When that didn’t pan out, back to work I went…carrying a five-year gap in my resume. Not so hot looking when you don’t have a house full of kids that you spent said five years raising to show for it. Especially when you have to pretty up your real story…that your husband started a business…and ran it into the ground…with your help, of course. The only way out of that predicament is to go back to school and refresh your education, or in my case, start all over again, like I’d been promised. That was two years ago.
Listening to my cell phone ring in my purse, which is sitting on my bed, I know my girlfriends are waiting for me at the club. They tried to convince me to start drinking at my house, but that idea was kyboshed because I’m such a pathetic lightweight. One glass of wine and my friends will be peeling me off the ceiling. That’s why they don’t take me out drinking often. But tonight is an exception. Tonight, nobody cares if they have to hold my hair up while I puke with pride, or keep me from doing other unthinkable things that I tend to do when I’ve had too much to drink by my standards. Which means…a second glass of wine. Tonight is my first night being single again. After ten years of marriage, I get to start all over again. Lucky me. Most of my friends are thrilled, since most of them are single except one, my best friend, whose marriage rivalled my own in the good days.
Picking up my phone I see that it’s Heather, my best friend. I pick up the call. “Hey. I’m just about ready. I’ll be there in about ten minutes.”
“I’m coming in.” she says with a slight gasp. “The lineup at the bar is crazy and I can’t wait…I have to pee.”
I giggle. “That’s why I love you. You’re the only one with a bladder smaller than mine.”
“Shut up and open your door.”
Hanging up, I run downstairs and open the door. Heather is doing a cute little pee dance as I open it. I laugh but she playfully shoves me to the side and dashes for the guest bathroom at the entrance. Moments later, I can hear a healthy stream in the toilet. “Jesus, did you start drinking already?”
“No.” she answers breathlessly behind the door. “Barry bought me one of those fucking green tea things and I couldn’t say no. I drank the thing down before I left. How was I supposed to know that it would go through me like fire?”
I snort a laugh. “What would you have done if I met you at the bar?”
“There would be a trickle of pee running down my leg. Either that or the tidy bushes in front of the place would get a decent watering.”
Heather appears from the loo; relief washes over her face. Slightly overweight, but beautifully plump, my best girl rocks makeup like it’s been done professionally. Heather’s always had a knack for getting her face perfect. Me, my best feature is my hair. It’s long and brown, and as thick as it was when I was in my twenties. I’m not photogenic, even though my friends say I’m blind and self-deprecating. “Megan thinks you’re gonna chicken out.” Heather says, tipping her chin upward.
“Na, I thought about flaking.” I frown. “But it’s not in me.”
“Never was.” Heather rubs my arm. “How are you doing?” she asks honestly.
“Fine. Papers arrived today as expected.” I shrug. My nonchalance towards my divorce is almost frightening to some, including myself. I hold my left hand out to her and show her the void on my ring finger.
Her mouth opens wide, in surprise. “Holy shit! Good for you, girl!” glancing at my hand, she shakes her head. “I can’t believe how strong you are.”
“I’m not strong, I’m just looking forward to the next step.” I declare. “You know how badly I’ve wanted to go to school. Class starts in a couple of weeks, and I’m so excited I can’t even sleep.”
“I know how bad you wanted to go. You’ve always dreamed of this. I’m so proud of you.” Another arm rub. “It’s just too bad you couldn’t do it sooner.”
“Well, I had to wait until all this settled. Focus is important, not only in school, but in life. I didn’t want to set myself up to fail, you know?”
“I know.” She gives me a tight-lipped smile, and then gives me the once-over. “You still have those things?” she’s referring to my jeans, the tightest ones I have. Commonly referred to back in my previous single days as my ‘picking up guys pants’. Which I never did, by the way. I just liked to call them that.
“Yes, I still have these. Why? Are they ugly, or crossing some wardrobe boundary that I’m somehow unaware of?”
Heather crosses her arms over her chest in mock defiance. “No. They’re just…old.”
“So?”
“So…I figured you’d buy yourself something new.”
“Why? These still fit fine.”
“Shut up.” She scoffs, pulling at her size fourteen jeans. “Yeah, I’m jealous. I suppose if I were in your shoes, I’d be in a lot more trouble.” She looks at me, feigning irritation at my appearance. “You, on the other hand, haven’t aged a day or gained an ounce. I hate you.”
“Yeah, I hate you, too.” I pat her on the back.
“Let’s go before I lose my nerve.”
Deidre, Hayley and Ryanne are keeping a spot for us in line when we arrive. The nightclub is packed; music oozes from the place just loud enough that we can dance to it and still hold a conversation. My stomach is roiling with both nerves and excitement; it’s been a long time since I’ve been out dancing and drinking. Heather can sense my trepidation. “I know…I’ll be fine.” I lift a defensive hand.
Hayley, my bombshell blonde friend, catches on. “Girl, I’m getting you a drink straight up, the moment we get in there.” Two guys are already ogling her in her tight, low cut shirt. Hayley’s left arm is covered in tattoos; symbolic, since she swears she’ll never have anything else on her left hand or arm to dress it up with; her choice. The girl is way too wild to settle down; she’s traveled the world and has had so many partners I can’t keep track. But Hayley has a heart of gold and has picked me up many times when I’ve been down. She’s also the one who told me to wear the tight jeans.
Finally, twenty minutes later, we’re in the club. Hayley exercises her sexual muscle and heads straight for the bar, elbowing her way in, giving goo-goo eyes to every guy in her way. We toast our first glass of wine, standing close enough to the bar as we chat, and I finally feel my nerves unhinge. The dance floor is starting to fill, and Deidre, my horny friend, is already getting eye contact from some blonde sitting at a table by the bar.
Ryanne and Heather stand next to me, smiling at me. “What?” I ask.
Ryanne chuckles. “I just never thought I’d see the day.”
“What day?”
“The day that you’re single again. Finally rid of that half-witted numb nuts.” Did I mention that Ryanne couldn’t stand Nick? Never mind…
“I’m sure your heart bleeds.”
“For him it does.” Ryanne says facetiously. “He lost the best thing that ever happened to him. All because he was too much of a jackass to keep a promise.” She takes another sip of wine. “Makes me wonder just how many more promises to you he broke.”
Heather sighs. “Are we here to ruminate or have fun?” she downs the last of her wine and prompts me to finish mine, by lifting her hand under the foot of my goblet. As I toss it back, Hayley’s face breaks into a sly smile like the Cheshire Cat.
“You want another one?” Hayley asks, still smiling.
“Are you going to be responsible for what I do?” I ask, matter-of-factly.
“Hell…yes.” she says, emphasizing the yes. Heather, who usually gives me the knowing, motherly look, smiles at me.
“So, I take it a second glass is in order then?” I ask Heather.
“Live it up, girl. After the last few years, you’ve got a lot of catching up to do.” Heather answers. Hayley winks at me. Deidre is over at the table, talking to the blonde, completely forgetting about me and why we’re here, momentarily.
Even though my insides already feel like Jello, and I’m warmed from head to toe, I smile and lift my arm in the air, signalling to the bartender to give me another white wine. Ten minutes later, we’re on the dance floor. My long hair is tied up in a knot on the top of my head, as I wipe the sweat off my neck. The red linen shirt I’m wearing is sticking to me, as is the white camisole underneath. But the wine has hit me full tilt, and the music is calling to me. I can’t remember having this much fun…ever. My body is moving to the music better than it ever has, or at least that’s what I’d like to believe, although the wine could be to credit here.
I tell the girls that I’m going to the washroom and expect one of them to chaperone me, but they don’t, so I head over to the left of the dance floor to relieve myself. Thankfully, there is no lineup, so I’m in and finished in a matter of five minutes, including giving myself time to splash cold water on the back of my neck. I take my hair down, noticing that it looks ridiculous up like that. But I keep the elastic around my wrist, knowing that it’ll be back up once I start dancing again. Checking my watch as I walk out of the bathroom, I slam straight into some guy walking across the washroom entrance.
…and he’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen in my life….by the way. But that could be the wine again. Either way, he’s jaw-dropping gorgeous, with soft-looking, dark brown hair, full lips, blue eyes, and a body that looks like he spends most of his time at the gym. Just the type of guy my mother always told me to steer clear of. Just the opposite of the type of guy I married and stayed miserably married to for ten years. He splutters out an ‘excuse me’, touching my arm as he utters those two beautiful words from his full mouth. As he touches me, our eyes lock for a second, and I don’t realize it at first, but I’m smiling at him. His baby blues look at my lips for an instant, and then his mouth turns up slightly into a smile, mirroring my expression. “Sorry about that.” His voice is deep but not guttural.
“No, th…that’s my fault. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” I stutter, adjusting my watch. I hadn’t noticed the time at all.
He tips his chin downward in thanks or goodbye, I’m not sure what, and he walks away from me. My eyes don’t leave him as he walks over to the dance floor, standing on the sidelines by the handrail with a gang of his friends. He looks back at me once, and it’s like I’m frozen in place. Suddenly it occurs to me that I’m not married anymore. I’m single again. And I have no idea what to do. Nick is only the second guy I ever dated, and I married him. The first guy I dated for six years. Before that, I have no recollection of how to be around a man, aside from just being friends. My heart starts to pound. For the first time in ten years, I’m scared. What if I don’t know how to act around a guy anymore? What if I never meet anyone else? What if I’m ruined and I can’t survive in another relationship?
“What did you do, swallow a bird?” Hayley asks. I hadn’t heard or seen her approach. Breaking out of my reverie, I look at the dance floor, and see Heather and Ryanne dancing together. The handsome guy has melted into the crowd and I can’t see him anymore. Was he a figment of my imagination?
“I…I…just…I bumped into this beautiful man…and that’s it. It hit me.” I say, bopping myself on the head with the heel of my hand.
“What hit you?”
“The fact that I’m on the market again, and I haven’t got a single idea what to do with that fact.” I lightly scoff.
“One day at a time, my friend.” Hayley says. “Come on. You need another drink.” She takes my hand and we walk to the bar, just as Bon Jovi’s ‘Livin’ on a Prayer’ comes on. The song is so symbolic for me right now, I leave her and trot through the throng of people trying to get to the floor, finally finding Heather and Ryanne rocking away. Getting caught up in the music, I let my body do what it wants, and I let my vocal cords do what they want, as I sing and dance my ass off, forgetting about all my troubles and worries. When the song is over, Hayley is at my side, with a fresh glass of wine. I take two sips and Journey’s ‘Lovin’, Touchin’, Squeezin’ comes on. This is the sexiest song ever in my mind, especially now that I’m completely hammered. Tossing down the last of my third glass of wine, I hand Hayley my glass and pull the elastic from my wrist, tying my hair up.
The girls are looking at me funny, but I don’t care. I feel the music reverberating through my veins. I start dancing very provocatively, as if a pole were in front of me…or a man…but we’ll go with pole, since I wouldn’t have a clue what to do with a man right now, even though I desperately want to be with one in this moment. Especially the hunk I saw or think I saw moments ago. Did I mention drinking to me is like taking a shot of Spanish Fly? Hence Nick never letting me drink in his presence. But he’s not here now, is he? During the first chorus, I slowly shimmy my body down to the floor and sweep back up in a move that most strippers use in their routines. When I’m standing erect, I pull the tie from my hair as I set my head back slowly, allowing my hair to pool down my back, using another stripper move.
The girls are whistling at me, spurring me on. When I turn around, I pull at the hem of my shirt, and slowly, seductively slip it
over my head, revealing my camisole underneath. What are you doing? Are you crazy? This isn’t a strip club! Heather catches it as I toss it into the air in front of me. I feel eyes on me, and I notice that Mr. Handsome is watching me. So, you weren’t a figment of my imagination, after all. Feeling brave, I lift my hand and wiggle my inverted index finger at him, indicating for him to come to me. He smiles and sets his beer on the ledge. He has one friend on either side of him; they’re not quite as cute, but not bad, either. They watch him walk towards me on the dance floor.
When he reaches me, I rest my arms on his shoulders, wiggling my body against his. His smile mirrors mine as I shimmy down his body and then turn around, so my back is facing his front. Wrapping my arms around his neck from behind, I sweep from side to side, making sure I’m rubbing against him. I feel his arms snake around my waist as he moves with me. His hair is so soft, I can’t help but run my hands through it from behind. The back of his neck is so goddamn kissable, I want to go give him a million hickies. His hot breath is on my cheek as we dance back to front. The final verse comes, and I turn around to face him, worried that he’s going to scurry away the second that it’s over, and I plant a kiss on his lips. A small one, but enough for him to take notice. He doesn’t have enough time to respond fully, but I get half a kiss in return. I hear Hayley whistle beside me, egging me on. Mr. Handsome’s eyes slide down to my lips, as if giving me permission to make such a ballsy move again, and I do. This time I make it count. Skipping the soft, chaste second kiss, I slide into third, and open my mouth, slipping my tongue inside, hoping like hell that his is there to greet me.
His mouth tastes remotely like beer, which isn’t as displeasing as I thought it would be. Even though I’m kissing him like my life depends on it, he’s responding with ease, as if trying to slow me. It’s as sexy as hell. Hayley isn’t cheering me on, which leads me to believe that she’s fainted. I know Heather has, and Deidre is probably hitting on at least one of his friends up by the railing, Ryanne taking the other. Mr. Handsome is kissing me old school style, with his lips not leaving mine. The song changes to a slow one, and his hands, which were already on my waist, wrap around to the small of my back, as if morphing into position. My hands are all in his hair as we slowly kiss in time to the music. My thighs are soaked, and my breasts are thumping to the beat of my heart, mirroring the beat I feel…there.