Save Me

by Stephanie Street

  “I wish I could get my hands around that guys neck one more time.”

  Cole had almost killed Davis the first time, no need to tempt fate with a second encounter, for all our sakes.

  “Cole-”

  “I’m serious. I’m shaking right now I’m so mad about that. And you-” Cole’s voice cracked, and he had to clear his throat before continuing. “And you. I’ll never forgive myself for letting that happen to you.”

  “That’s what I’m talking about, Cole. It wasn’t your job to protect me.” It was why I had to let go back then.

  “Then whose was it, Jo? I knew something was wrong. I knew it that day you jumped out your window. I never wanted to let you go back in that house ever again.”

  I heard the anger in his voice. “I know.”

  We didn’t talk for a while. Each of us thinking about what had been said.

  “I’m sorry, Jo. I’m sorry you had to deal with any of that stuff. I guess I can understand how you felt you had to deal with your fears, but what about later? How did you not understand how I felt about you?”

  Felt. Past-tense. Maybe Cole didn’t love me anymore. It wasn’t anything I didn’t deserve after pushing him away so many times. But it still hurt. I still wanted him. “Please.” Working to hold back my tears, I held the phone away from me until I regained some composure.

  “Please, Cole, never be sorry. You saved me. So many times, it was you who saved me. You saved me from being alone. You kept me safe at your house. You were in my play. You. You were my best friend.” My last word came out on a sob. I couldn’t hold it in.

  “Shit. Jo, you can’t cry when I can’t hold you.”

  “I miss you, Cole.”

  And because, I was a wimp and a chicken, I hung up. And powered off my phone.

  Cole

  After she disconnected the call, I laid there staring at my ceiling for what seemed like hours. I wanted to call her back but knowing Joie she powered off her phone. There would be time enough for all of that later. Now, I needed to process what she told me and plan what to do next.

  So much of what we talked about, what was said and not said, filled in the empty pieces of the puzzle that was Joie Warner. I spent hours that night thinking about Joie’s mom and dad and the things Joie had been through. I tried to put myself in her place, to understand what I would have done to cope with the trauma of two mentally unstable parents who’d done nothing but hurt me.

  And I couldn’t hold anything against her. In fact, I was in awe of her. I pretty much always had been but realizing the lengths to which she’d gone to protect herself and her heart, I was floored. I was also more determined than ever.

  Chapter 33

  Joie

  It was the first day of classes after the holiday break. Cole and I were still working through things. We didn’t talk much about that conversation, but he’d brought up a few things and I willingly told him my side, my feelings. He was gracious and forgiving and tender. And then he made me laugh and we talked about new things that had nothing to do with old things.

  Where are you?

  On my way to class. How about you?

  You know, getting shit done.

  Cole had been vague about his plans after finishing last semester at Notre Dame. I knew he wasn’t going to continue classes there, but he hadn’t told me what he was going to do.

  Like what?

  Enrolling in classes. Getting my books. You know. First day of school shit.

  First day of school where? Where are you?

  My heart pinched wishing he were here. For weeks now, it had been killing me, the distance between us. I’d been thankful, in a way, for the phone time. We’d opened up in ways that would have been hard in person. We’d shared some incredibly personal and intimate time together. But except for occasional flirting and admissions of missing each other, we hadn’t discussed our relationship or where it was going, if anywhere.

  Look up.

  What?

  Look up.

  So, I did.

  “Cole.”

  He was there. Not five feet in front of me.

  Good thing he was fast.

  “Jo!” He caught me in his arms as my knees gave out.

  Throwing my arms around his neck, I let the tears fall.

  Cole’s arms tightened around my waist.

  “Are those happy tears? I can’t tell.” His lips brushed my ear as he spoke.

  “I-” I didn’t have words. So, I kissed him.

  Cole’s lips curved against mine for a second before he kissed me back. Feverishly.

  Several minutes later, I pulled away.

  “When?” I kissed his chin. “How?” I kissed his jaw. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I kissed his cheek.

  “Are you serious? And miss out on this moment right here? No way. It was so worth every time hanging up, dying to tell you.” Cole stopped my spastic kisses with his hands on my face.

  “I can kiss you, right? You’ll let me,” he asked, his blue eyes searching mine.

  “Let you? Just try to stop kissing me.” I stood on tip-toe to reach his lips.

  “Stop kissing you? Never,” he insisted before his lips crashed onto mine.

  Epilogue

  Cole

  Surprising Joie that day was the best, at least, I thought it was. Until the next day proved better. And the day after that? You guessed it- amazing.

  You see, I called Mr. Donovan that day I found his card. He remembered me and had even heard about my injury. He admitted to wondering if he would hear from me after hearing my football career was over. I was nervous as hell, but I asked him if he would still be interested in having me in his program. He was.

  I arrived a week before school started and it took everything in me to wait to go to Joie as soon as I got to LA. But I meant what I told her, the look on her face was so worth the wait. Plus, I was all settled in and could spend every spare minute with her. And that’s just what I did every day for the next six months. We were inseparable.

  We went to my parents’ house for Thanksgiving that year. Her mom came for the day and it was awkward, but good. I was happy for Joie’s sake that we’d invited her. I proposed in my parent’s backyard. Macy helped me decorate the gazebo with twinkle lights and we wired some music to dance to. After holding her in my arms for several songs, I couldn’t wait another moment. I dropped to my knees and begged her to be mine for always.

  She said yes.

  Joie

  After our wedding was over, Cole stood in the middle of our hotel room. His fingers trailed down the back of my gown, pulling the zipper with them, exposing my skin to the cool air. When his lips finally touched mine, when we finally connected as only two people can, I thought about how much I needed Cole. I didn’t need Cole to breathe. I didn’t need Cole to be happy. I didn’t need Cole to accomplish my goals. But I did need to love. And I needed to be loved. Cole gave me that and I had everything.

  The end.

  Author’ Note

  I’m honored that you would take the time to read Joie and Cole’s story. If you enjoyed Save Me, I would sincerely appreciate a review online. Author’s love to hear from readers! Please, if you have a complaint about an aspect of the book’s formatting or editing, contact me at stephaniestreetauthor@gmail.com as opposed to leaving a negative review. I am always working to improve where necessary and those negative comments remain even when authors update manuscripts to make corrections.

  Sincerely,

  Stephanie

  You can find me on Facebook at Stephanie Street-Author

  My blog at http://stephaniestreetauthor.blogspot.com/

  Or email at stephaniestreetauthor@gmail.com

  **Keep reading for a sample of Perks of Dating You and Dating: One on One (available on Amazon).

  Books

  By Stephanie Street

  Young Adult Romance

  The Perks of Dating You (Perks Book 1)

  The Perks of Hating You (Perks Book 2)
<
br />   The Perks of Kissing You (Perks Book 3)

  Us at the Beach (Standalone)

  Save Me (Standalone)

  Dating: One on One (Eastridge Heights Basketball Team Book 1)

  Contemporary Romance

  Chasing Paris

  Historical Romance

  Loved so Long Brides of Carson’s Creek Book 1

  Loved from Afar Brides of Carson’s Creek Book 2

  *Keep reading for samples of Stephanie Street’s other books.

  Sample Chapters of The Perks of Dating You

  Chapter One

  Allie

  There he is. Connor Sanders. All six feet four inches, broad shouldered, rock hard muscled, starting quarterback of him. As he walks toward me (well, not toward me, but in my direction), bright blue eyes smiling at all the beautiful, popular girls dripping from his arms, my heart sinks down to my toes. Because if I am the GPS and Connor is my target, I really wish I knew how to program a new destination, because there is no way Connor Sanders is ever going to look at me as anything-

  “Hey, Allie.”

  “Oh. Hey, Connor.”

  -as anything more than his best friend. Standing there, as the single hottest guy at my high school makes his way to his first period AP Chemistry class, I have to wonder if fate was being kind or cruel to plunk two-year-old Connor, who would grow up to be the absolute best at everything and beautiful to boot, next to newborn little me who would grow up to be the plainest Jane in three counties. Don’t get me wrong, Connor is an amazing best friend. That’s where fate was kind. But the chances of friendship turning to something more- well, let’s just say if I ever were to meet fate- it would be with a throat punch.

  “I don’t know how you can stand it.”

  I turn my head just enough to see my other best friend, and pretty much my only female friend, Eden Crenshaw, standing beside me shoulder to shoulder. Her cute pixie face is characteristically scrunched with a look of disgust as we continue to Connor Stalk, watching as he and his rippling muscles lead his harem around the corner. Eden has known about my crush on Connor almost as long as I have.

  “What are you talking about?” I ask, already knowing. The school year may be new, but this conversation was not. I turn down the hall toward my first period class. We have it together, so I know she will follow, bringing her explanation with her.

  “Kayla! That’s what I’m talking about. How can you just stand by and let her hang all over your man like that?”

  My man. I wish. But alas, Connor is not my man. He is Kayla’s man, at least he has been for the last six weeks.

  “We’ve been over this a thousand times, Eden, Connor is not my man. We are just friends. He’s with Kayla,” I recite the facts, knowing Connor doesn’t see me as anything other than his best friend at best or little sister at worst. Eden is determined Connor is secretly pining for me, but is too afraid to admit to his feelings.

  “Well, he could be yours if you would just man up and make a move on him.”

  “Eden!” I giggle. I can’t help it. Eden definitely has a way with words.

  “I’m serious. One of these days while you’re in your room shooting zombies in that dumb video game you’re always playing, just lean in and lay one on him.” She punctuates her advice with a loud kissing noise.

  “And send him screaming from the room and my life? Not going to happen. ‘Friends’ is better than nothing.” And it's true. Believe me, I’ve played the scenario in my head since I was eleven and Connor was thirteen and pretty much already looked like a grown man. I dreamed of one day, gazing deeply into his blue, blue eyes and declaring my undying love for him.

  Those kinds of dreams always end one of two ways. A) Connor will gaze at me, pity burning in his eyes and tell me I’m more little sister material than make out material. Our friendship turns awkward and uncomfortable and Connor starts hanging out at JJ’s house instead of mine to get his video game fix. Or B) Connor asks what has taken me so long to fess up to my real feelings and pulls me into his arms for a five hour make out session, completely undisturbed because my mom will never believe we are anything more than just friends.

  B would be amazing- toe-curling, life-altering, the fulfillment of my every dream- amazing. On the other hand, A- my heart stutters in my chest just thinking about A- A would be unendurable, leading me to curl up into a tiny ball of misery in my room, never to come out until I’m an old woman and my life has been taken over by the five hundred and twenty-seven cats my mom has sent in one by one to cheer me up. No, making a move, as Eden so eloquently put it, is out of the question. Being doomed to eternal friendship with Connor is worth my silence, if speaking up means losing him completely.

  “If you say so. I just don’t understand how you can spend hour after hour every Saturday afternoon with Mr. Hottie McHotness and not just tell him how you feel.”

  “If declarations of love are so easy, why haven’t you made one yourself?” I ask, staring pointedly, because there, at 2 o’clock, is Micah Porter, the only guy in school who can make Eden’s black little heart go pitter patter.

  “I’ve told you, I’m going to be a nun.”

  “You sound convincing, but the drool dripping down your chin gives you away.” Eden drags her gaze from the back of Micah’s head long enough to stick her tongue out at me.

  “I can’t help my biological reaction to a beautiful man,” Eden says, stalking Micah with her eyes again as we pass his locker, turning away only when threatened with looking like a scene from The Exorcist.

  “Biology. Right. It has nothing to do with the fact that Micah is a skater. And he’s super smart. And he is really nice. Did I mention, he’s hot?” I tease, bumping her hip with mine as we reach our classroom.

  “He really is,” Eden sighs, dropping dramatically into a seat in the back row of our physics class. “It doesn’t matter. You know I’ve sworn off guys until college. No more high school drama for me.”

  “Some friend you are, leaving me to suffer all by myself.” I say the words lightly, but my heart pinches at Eden’s words, worried. Eden doesn’t like to talk about it, but something happened to her last year. I don’t know what exactly, but after that Eden vowed to live out the remainder of our high school career sans boys.

  I miss whatever quip Eden might have come back with, however, because Mr. Richardson, our physics teacher, just walked into the room and immediately launched into his lecture on Newton’s Laws. So much for easing into junior year.

  Chapter Two

  Connor

  Tweeet!

  Coach Reno’s whistle pierces the air seconds before his booming voice. “Defense! Five burmas! I don't care if you're puking your guts out, everybody finishes.”

  The huge defensive linemen, faces already purple from exertion, groan collectively as they all head to the imaginary trail leading all around the school campus that has been dubbed a ‘burma’.

  “Conditioning.” Coach’s voice carries to the defense, as they run, heads hanging low. “You guys look like you haven’t left your mama’s couch all summer. Offense! To the line!” This new proclamation is met with no less groaning from my teammates on offense. “One hundred yard suicides!”

  Lining up in the end zone, I crouch into my stance, deciding for the thousandth time I hate our head coach.

  Tweeet!

  I’m just as frustrated with my team. It’s my senior year, my last chance to get the attention of the scouts from State. I really want a scholarship. I’ve worked my ass off all summer conditioning, doing drills, and studying film. If these dipshits don’t get their act together, there’s no way we’re winning the State Championship this year. And I need to win.

  Glancing at the water table, I see Allie. Just the sight of her sympathetic smile as she catches my eye, makes me run harder. Faster. That is until she turns that bright smile of hers toward Jared Maxwell, the water boy and the only guy on the team I haven’t yet threatened with bodily harm if he messes with Allie.

  Of
course, Jared is a freshman and weighs one fifteen soaking wet. I swear, the guy’s voice still hasn’t changed. I could probably forgo my usual speech, the one that kept Allie safe from asshole jocks like my teammates. I really don’t think Jared is a threat.

  “Dude, this sucks.” My best friend on the team, JJ Coleman grimaces as he heads back to the end zone from the twenty-five yard line. I am already at the thirty-five, a sure sign that all my hard work this summer has paid off at least a little bit. JJ, on the other hand, spent the summer drinking and partying and he's paying for it now. I just can’t afford to lose focus like that.

  “Suck it up, man.” I harass JJ when I pass him again.

  “Enough small talk, Sanders!” Coach Reno shouts, reinforcing my earlier conclusion that he is not my favorite person, not because he's a tough coach, I don't mind hard work. No, I don't like him because he's an ass.

  I look toward Allie again. She’s facing the field, the corners of her mouth lift in a smirk when our eyes meet again. She knows exactly how I feel about the coach.

  Jared catches my attention again, looking a little too enthusiastic when Allie laughs at something he’s saying and suddenly I’m trying to remember when it was exactly that I became so damn protective of the girl next door.

  It’s nothing new, I guess. I’ve been helping Allie out of scrapes since we were kids. Like that time I knocked out Billy Prescott’s front tooth for locking Allie in the shed during a game of hide and seek. I still get pissed off just thinking about it. It helped that I was bigger than most of the other kids around our age (thanks to genetics and a virus I’d gotten traveling in South America which made me miss most of first grade so I had to repeat it, putting me one grade above Allie rather than two).