by Kylie Kent
Merged with him
The Merge Series
Kylie Kent
Contents
Blurb
Merged
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
Acknowledgments
About Kylie Kent
Copyright ©2020 by Kylie Kent
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright holder.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
ISBN 13: 978-0-6489981-0-5 (ebook)
978-0-6489981-1-2 (paperback)
Cover Illustration by Cover Artist
Kristine Moran - [email protected]
Typography & formatting by Typographer
Kristine Moran - [email protected]
Editing services provided by Editor
Shannan Saunders –
https://www.lovebooksediting.com
Dedication
To my husband, who was my very own instalove. The one who has supported me in everything I do for twenty years. Without his support and encouragement, this story would never have been told.
Blurb
A recently graduated nurse with a painful past. A hot nightclub owner with darker interest. Two souls destined to merge as one, can they hold on to each other when someone is out to keep them apart?
Alyssa Summers, orphaned and raised within a broken system, is a fighter. She has focused her entire life on one goal, to graduate college and have a stable, steady career. Her job in one of Sydney’s busiest ERs keeps her busy and the last thing on her mind is love. She learned the hard way not to rely on anyone other than herself. But when her eyes are captured by a pair of emerald green ones she can’t look away from, everything changes.
The Merge is the place to go when looking to unwind and experience an exciting night out. The ambitious and driven owner Zac Williamson knows what he wants and how to get it, and right now? He wants the beautiful blonde who just stepped into his club.
When these two meet the sparks quickly explode into so much more. But are his secrets too twisted for her to accept? And even if she could, will she stay with him when she realizes that being his has put a deadly target on her back?
Merged
“combine or cause to combine to form a single entity”
Chapter One
Alyssa
“Sarah I can’t wear that!” I exclaim to my best friend, who is holding up the tiniest black dress I have ever seen. “That dress looks like something you took off a doll, no way is all of this going to fit into that bit of fabric.” I emphasize my curves by waving my hands down my body.
“Don’t be dramatic Lyssa, you want to look hot for this date with Ethan, right?”
I have absolutely no idea who the heck Ethan is, other than some guy that my best friend so helpfully set me up with. I’m not sure if I want to make the impression of a sexy kitten or girl you immediately friend zone and never try to hit on again.
“I want to look somewhere between sex on the beach and a dirty margarita,” I try to explain in my friend’s true language of cocktails.
“Ok. Ok, I get it. You want to look more like a piña colada. Fifty percent girl you take home to mother and fifty percent hit it and quit it,” Sarah animatedly calls out as she continues to dig through her wardrobe. We shared the townhouse together and I couldn’t want for a better flatmate than my best friend. However, she was delusional if she thought I was squeezing my body into one of her barely-there dresses.
Where Sarah was tall and slim with a runner’s body, I was on more of the curvier side with the body of a person who would rather sit at home reading the latest romance on my Kindle than endure any form of the hell they call exercise. Sarah though, was a health guru to the core, right down to the god-awful green stuff she drank every morning.
I guess her efforts were paying off for her, she was beautiful both inside and out. Sarah had those tanned dark features that every girl would kill for or pay exuberant amounts of money to fake. With long silky black hair and thick pouty lips, she was stunning. Where she is tanned and toned, I am in comparison pale and curvy.
“Ah-ha, I found it!” she exclaims, walking out of the wardrobe triumphantly holding up a strapless red dress.
Admittedly, the dress was gorgeous and would look so good on someone like Sarah. On someone like me? Let’s just say I have a motto for clothes, just because you can squeeze into it, doesn’t mean you should.
“I am not squeezing all of this into that,” I plea, giving my best don’t make me pout look.
“Lyssa, you have a killer bod. You know it. I know it. God knows it. And Ethan is about to know it. Just put the damn dress on already.” She shoves the dress at me waiting with a raised eyebrow.
“Fine.” Stomping on the spot, I strip down to squeeze all my curves into the scrap of material that she claims to be a dress.
“Wow!” Sarah lets out a whistle as she grabs my shoulders, spinning me around to face the full-length mirror that stands in the corner of her room. I stand staring back at my reflection, not believing what I was seeing. First, the dress fit, it was not ripping at the seams to hold my curves in, instead it looked like it was made for me, hugging me in all the right places.
My D-sized breasts were popping with the square cut strapless top, the fabric hugging at my hips before swaying out in a mermaid shape that ended just before my knees. I was speechless as I looked at my reflection.
“Well, what do you think?” Sarah asks quietly from behind me.
“I think I love it! I think I love you. How do you always know how to dress me better than I can dress myself?” Turning, I hug her, squeezing tight.
“That’s because I know the rocking body you behold underneath your baggy hoodies and jeans. Tonight, the rest of Sydney will know it too, Ethan won’t know what to do with himself when he gets a look at you.”
I finished the outfit off with a pair of black strappy Guess heels I scored in the clearance bin a few weeks ago and a shimmery black clutch. Sarah, being the make-up artist she is, beautifies my face and hair. Transforming my pale face into something that belonged on a magazine cover, she gave me just the right amount of smoky eye paired with bright red shiny lips.
“The Uber will be here in ten!” Sarah yells from the living room.
Doing one last-minute check in the mirror, I make my way out to the living room. Nerves are eating at me, I’m not much of a people person. “Are you sure you don’t want to tag along with me?” I plead with my best friend.
“Um, definitely not, I did not go to the effort of stalking that smoking hot groomsmen from the wedding I worked last weekend for myself, I did that all for you, sweet pea.”
“Thanks?” It comes out more of a question than a statement.
Grabbing onto my sho
ulders, she says, “I know you’re nervous, you have every right to be after what that prick did to you, but this is different, ok?” I nod, trying to bury the memories that are trying to creep their way into my mind. Sarah hugs me and whispers, “you will thank me to the moon and back when you see him, where did you say he was taking you again?”
I didn’t give her any details because knowing Sarah, she would turn up and spy on just how well I was not doing at this blind date thing just to give me pointers for the next time.
“I didn’t say.” Smiling, I make my way to the door. “Don’t wait up.” As I say this, I know I’ll be in early as I have a shift tomorrow. Sarah reads my face all too well, knowing I was thinking of having to go into work tomorrow.
“You can always call in sick if you stay out, you don’t even like your job, why not use all your personal leave for getting down and personal with a member of the opposite sex?” She wags her eyebrows up and down at me. Shaking my head because there is no way to respond to all of that, I walk out the door.
Sitting in the back of the Uber, I rest my head against the headrest and contemplate cancelling this date and finding an open coffee shop, getting a vanilla latte and finishing the latest romance I was half-way through. Surely, my current book boyfriend could bring me more pleasure than a blind date with some guy named Ethan, no matter how hot Sarah claimed he was.
I hate meeting new people. I’m not a people person, I keep my close circle of friends small. That circle included Sarah, and my other two BFF’s Holly and her identical twin Reilly; they were enough for me.
I process the list of pros and cons of cancelling the date. Pro, I can have a peaceful night with Ken, the current hot alpha book hero I’m crushing on. Con, I will undeniably have to endure Sarah’s lecture when she eventually learns of my deceit. I decide to just meet this Ethan and avoid the day’s long lecture on my lack of love life from my best friend.
The Uber pulls to a stop on the side of the street. Looking out the window, I double check the name of the restaurant that Ethan told me to meet him at, yes told me, not asked, not requested, just a simple message stating, I’ll meet you at Red Door Restaurant at 8 p.m. That should have been my first red flag with this guy.
I can see the red door with a sign above proclaiming it to be the Red Door Restaurant, also taking note that next to the restaurant lays a carpeted walkway, with ropes along the edges leading to a door with flashing lights highlighting the name of the building as The Merge. I’ve heard about this club, Gary at work talks about his epic nights out every Monday, his anecdotes always mention The Merge; apparently it’s the place to be, that is, if you’re into that scene.
I make my way to the red door, pushing open the heavy door. I give my name to the gorgeous blonde on the front counter, she informs me I’m the first to arrive and leads me to a table set for four. Thanking her I sit down, pulling out my phone to send a quick text to Sarah letting her know I made it to the right place.
Lyssa: I made it to the meeting rendezvous spot. Waiting to see if my night will get more interesting if I get stood up or if he shows and I’m required to endure the awkwardness of a blind date.
Sarah: You’re welcome, enjoy and try to let loose a little, yolo
Laughing a little at her outdated yolo, I put my phone back in my clutch and wait. I’m not left to wait long, as a tall blond-haired man approaches me. Giving him a once over, he’s attractive in the boy-you-dated-in-college kind of way. He has a big solid frame, like one you would find on an athlete; strong, wide shoulders with a trim waist. He spends time in the gym. Scraggy blonde hair with dull blue eyes, his face is handsome, with a chiselled jawline and high cheekbones. He smirks as he gets closer, knowing full well that I was giving him the once over.
Standing, I reach my hand across the table to shake his. “Ethan?” I ask. “I’m Alyssa.”
“Yes, you are,” he smirks, running his eyes down my body, all the while grasping my hand for too long to be an appropriate time frame for a friendly handshake. His eyes come back up, lingering on my breasts for a beat before finally reaching my eyes and letting go of my hand.
Yep, that does it. My creeper alert is on full blast and, in my head, I am blasting my best friend. Outwardly, I smile politely and sit back down. Ethan takes the seat right next to me. Weird, most people would take the one across the table.
“Thanks for meeting me here,” he says, “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long?”
Mmm, polite, some manners, there’s his first plus. “Not at all, I just arrived.”
“You look beautiful, although I’m sure you already know that and don’t need me to tell you, you must hear it a billion times a day,” he says, talking to my breasts.
Yep, that first plus point now stricken from the record. “Thank you,” I say, picking up my menu. “Tell me a little about yourself,” I add, thinking he might give me some positives to like.
What I did not expect was to spend the next hour hearing all about his accolades in life, right down to his junior rugby league games as a ten-year-old. Turns out Ethan is in construction, and if you were to ask him, he is the best builder in all of Sydney; probably even go as far as saying the whole of Australia. Bloody hell, I never knew someone could be so fixated on themselves. All throughout I smile and ah-ha here and there. Not once has he asked anything about me.
I excuse myself to the ladies’ room, shutting the stall door I pull out my phone sending an SOS to Sarah.
Lyssa: SOS. Send help now, I am about to die of boredom!!
Sarah: Don’t be dramatic, open your mind and try to live a little. How boring can he be, just stare at his pretty face! That should make up for the boredom.
Lyssa: I have sat here for the last hour listening to him tell me everything great about himself. And let me tell you, the list is small, but he sure drags it out.
Sarah: just imagine him naked while he is talking. Always works for me!
Realising I’m on my own and have probably spent way longer in the bathroom than what’s considered a normal pee break, I shove my phone back in my clutch, wash my hands, and re-apply my lipstick before walking back out.
As I’m getting back to the table, the waiter arrives with the bill. Ethan looks up at me expectantly. “Split it?” I offer reluctantly, considering he ordered the $40 steak, and I only ordered a $15 salad.
“I knew you would be one of those equal rights kinds of gals. Sure, I’ll be happy to split the bill with you.”
“Of course you will,” I mumble under my breath.
“So how about we slip next door for a quick drink?” he queries with a hopeful gleam in his eyes.
I pick up my glass of water, downing the contents as all of my self-preservation senses are screaming at me to say no, make up some excuse and get out of there; although I have to work in the morning so I can use that without telling a lie. Then I think back to my text with Sarah. Maybe I am being too judgmental and should give him another thirty minutes of my time.
“Okay, but just one, I have to work in the morning.” I force a smile as I stand.
“Oh, great.” He stands and waits for me to walk ahead of him. That is his response, oh great, not oh what do you do? No wow, you work on a Saturday, what is it you said you did again? Just oh great. I was seriously rethinking the reasons I said yes to a drink now.
Ethan leads me out of the restaurant with his hand resting on my lower back, it sends shivers up my spine. Not the good kind that make you weak in the knees, no these are the creepy shivers that make you want to run and hide under the covers. Heading out onto the street, I step to the side attempting, unsuccessfully, to step out of his reach. He leads me up to the carpeted walkway of the club. Being only nine o’clock there isn’t much of a line-up to get in, however while waiting I attempt and fail to sidestep Ethan’s reach a few more times. Flashing my ID to the bouncer, I get let through the doors a moment before Ethan, which not only provides me with a moment to shake the heebie-jeebies feeling out of me but also
to stop and admire the beauty before me.
The club, if you can call it that, is opulence on another level. From where I stand, stunned in the doorway, I look up to see three different levels. People are already filling out the balconies that wrap around three walls of the building and overlook the huge main dance floor in the centre of the bottom floor. Even in the dimmed lighting, I can see the rich colours of deep red curtains hanging along the walls. There are sectioned off areas on the bottom floor with various shapes of black lounges and wingback chairs surrounding glass-topped tables.
The tables have gold frames that look like they’re sculpted out of two bodies moulded together. As I look around further, I can see that that is exactly what the tables are, some table frames are of a man and a woman, some of two men and others of two women. With each sculpture the bodies look to be in various forms of intimate embraces, almost as though they are merging as one.
As I’m standing here admiring the beauty that surrounds me, I feel a hand skim down my lower back to grab my arse. Spinning around with a raised hand about the slap the culprit I stop midway when I realise it’s Ethan. On a scale of 1-10, how much would slapping the guy you’re on a date with ruin the actual date? As I stand here debating the pros and cons of slapping him, Ethan takes my silence as a win for him and grabs my hand, tugging me towards the bar. I untangle my hand from his, slightly wiping my hand along the fabric of my dress, anything to get the feeling of him off of me.