She closes her eyes and hums contentedly as I continue to caress her hair. “Thank you for saving me,” she whispers.
“Any time.” I keep stroking her hair until she drifts off to sleep. Jesus. I release an emotional sob, covering my eyes with my free hand as it hits me how close I was to losing her. If I’d left in a huff, if I’d walked away, she could be dead right now. Broken, violated and dead.
Christopher needs to die for this.
He hurt the woman I love.
As I look over her beaten body, I realise I’ve been kidding myself. I’ve always loved her. Since that first urge to pull on her pigtails in primary school, I’ve been enamoured with her. Boyfriend material or not, I can’t deny it any longer. I can’t watch her get used up by some bastard who doesn’t love her the way she needs to be loved. I am the right guy for her. Deep down, she knows it, and I know it too. I can’t let my fear win.
I can’t go through this again.
I can’t lose her again.
“I love you, Trina,” I whisper as she sleeps, vowing that when she’s healed and ready to move on from this, I’ll tell her.
I love her.
I’ve always loved her…
Keep reading for the next in the Beautiful Series - Forever
Everything happens for a reason.
So they say, anyway. But, after ruining the best relationship I ever had, I’m struggling to see a reason behind it. Instead, I loathe the man I’ve become. I’m a coward. Somewhere along the way, I stopped living my own life in favour of living for my father instead. What he wants for me, and what I want for myself are two different things. And if I don’t do something drastic, I’ll lose my balls forever.
I need a new direction.
Boarding a plane to London, I have only one thing on my mind: change. I need to get away from my life, my family and my past to figure out what kind of man I want to be. I’m not looking for a relationship, but when I meet fellow Aussie, Paige, something inside tells me to grab on with both hands.
Paige doesn’t make things easy with her high walls and closed off heart. I find that the closer I get, the more she pushes back and clams up. But it see the struggle there too, she wants me just as much as I want her. If only she’d let me in...
The last time I fell for a girl, I made a terrible decision and ruined it. This time, I’m my own man. I won’t be walking away.
Elliot needs to fight harder than ever to win Paige's heart in this gripping romantic drama featuring new and extended scenes from books A Beautiful Forever and Phoenix, republished as Forever: Beautiful Series, Two.
Forever
Book Two
Foreword
I went into Forever thinking it wouldn’t be as much work to rewrite as Struggle was. And boy, was I wrong. I got to absorb myself in the lives of Paige and Elliot and flesh out their story in a way that I feel does their hardships justice.
It’s been great going through these books with the knowledge of future couples in my mind, because I can drop crumbs for you that lead into the next book. One thing I’ve had to smile about though is the mention of Brad. If you’ve read the series before, you’ll know him from Taste. But I didn’t realise I had a tattooed guy called Brad mentioned in both Struggle and Forever. He obviously made his way into my subconscious without me realising.
I’ve made big changes and little changes in the following pages, and I feel that it fits the series better now. When I wrote it the first time, Forever was supposed to be the final book. But there was a call for more, so I provided happily.
Enjoy!
Prologue
Elliot
Encouraging the sweaty, grunting man in front of me to tuck his knees closer to his chest as he does mountain climbers, I distractedly scan the people and the scenery in the Royal Botanic Gardens, Sydney. I do it every time I bring a client here, always searching even though it’s been almost two years.
But then I finally see her. Her movement is unmistakable as she runs in a rhythmic pace along the path in front of me. The two years I spent trying to get over her fall away like I didn’t even live them. I’m taken right back to where I was, wanting her, wishing I could touch her.
Holding my breath, I watch her run, her ponytail swinging from side to side as her feet hit the concrete. God, she’s beautiful. When she turns her head in my direction, a gripping pain creeps over my chest, constricting my airways as recognition steals over her face.
Secretly, I’m hoping she runs past me so I can convince myself I’m seeing things, but no such luck. She’s stopped. My stomach flips in response while my arm automatically waves at her. Suddenly, I hear myself telling my client I’ll be back in a minute, my feet propelling me towards her.
“Hey, stranger,” I say, trying to sound casual as I flash a smile.
Katrina stands with her hands on her hips, grinning at me as I approach. I have so much I want to say to her. I want to tell her I’ve changed, that I’m ready to put her first, that I would do anything for the right to touch her again. My body is screaming at me to reach out. But I don’t. She’s no longer mine.
“What’s this?” she asks immediately, indicating the logo on my shirt. I smile to myself; she’s never been one to mince words. She seems exactly the same, like I only saw her yesterday.
“I’m a personal trainer now,” I say, grinning because she was the one who encouraged me to go after my dream.
Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “What? What happened to becoming a judge?”
Still smiling, I shake my head from side to side. “That was my father’s dream for me. After you left, I did a lot of soul-searching and decided to make my own path.” It took a huge amount of courage and fighting for me to get here. I dedicated my life to the legal profession, pushing my own desires aside so I could fulfil what my father insisted was my destiny. But I was miserable, and it wasn’t until after Dad forced me to choose between his plotted path and Katrina that I finally looked at my life and fought to reclaim it for myself. No more living other people’s dreams.
“Wow, that’s amazing, Elliot. I'm really happy for you.”
My eyes land on her left hand, and my chest tightens as I see the ring she now wears. Shit. Swallowing the ball that has lodged itself firmly in my throat, I gesture to it. “Looks like congratulations are owed to you as well. Is that from David?”
She looks at her hand briefly, like she needs to confirm we’re looking at the same thing then gives me a small nod. “Oh, thank you. The wedding is a while off, but everything else is great.” Giving me a tight smile, she meets my eyes and places her hand back on her hip. “How about you? How are things with you?”
I look into her face, searching for some semblance of the way she used to look at me. But there's nothing there. I shift a little uneasily on my feet, feeling slightly sick in the guts.
Clearing my throat, I finally answer her. “Well, I don’t really speak to my dad anymore. Which, really, is a good thing. And I’m seeing someone now. It took a while, and she’s not you...but things are OK. I’m certainly not ready for a commitment like that yet,” I say, nodding at that bloody ring again. I’m trying to sound OK with it, but it hurts. It's like my brain is swelling and throbbing against my skull from the sight of it.
She seems unfazed by seeing me and just stands there, smiling like we’re buddies. Her eyes shift to look over my shoulder, where I’m sure my client is still waiting. “Well, I’d better let you get back to it.” she says, starting to back away from me. I hate feeling like this. It's like she’s tearing a part of me off the further she steps. “It was nice to see you again, Evan.”
I laugh, but it makes this hollow and empty sound. I don’t mean for it to come out that way, but I’m feeling a little bitter. We had something amazing, and I let it slip away.
“You too, Katrina. I'll see you around. If not, have a great life.” I smile on only one side of my face before I run back to my client, forcing my feet every step and refusing to let myself turn aro
und.
I don’t chance a look at her again until after I’ve told my client what his next exercise is. My guts are churning as I watch her run away, but I can’t stop staring. She doesn’t even look back. Fuck.
I lied to her. I'm not seeing anyone. Truth is, I haven’t dated anyone in the two years since her. I fucked around a lot which is really out of character for me, but I needed to try to get her out of my head. It never helped because every time I closed my eyes, I dreamed about our time together. It was fucking perfect, and I destroyed it because I was too much of a pussy to stand up to my dad.
Now she’s engaged, and I’ve got no chance. I guess I could pursue her and try to change her mind. But there’s something about the way she just looked at me that tells me it would be a waste of time. Plus, she seems happy, and I’m not a home wrecker. At the end of the day, David is a good guy, and they have a lot of history. I'm sure they’ll be disgustingly blissful together.
“Elliot!” My client snaps me back from my thoughts. “What’s next?”
Dragging my eyes from watching Katrina’s figure fade into the distance, I apologise. “Let’s cool down,” I say, taking him for a run in the opposite direction. I don’t trust myself not to chase her down.
One
Paige
“My family are all dead.” I drop that bomber after trying to avoid questions from the well-meaning lady beside me for the last twenty minutes. I get that she’s just trying to make conversation to pass the time, but the flight from Sydney to Heathrow Airport is almost a day in length. I don’t have it in me to talk to her for that long.
“Oh… I’m so sorry to hear that,” she stammers out, now not sure what to say. She looks at me, her mouth moving up and down like she's a goldfish caught out of water. Her jowly cheeks wobble, and her eyes dart nervously around as she searches for something else to say.
“It’s fine. I just don’t like to talk about it,” I tell her, looking out the window at the passing clouds. After years of saying my family kicked me out, I’ve stopped. I’ve taken to telling people they all died in an accident. It’s easier that way. People ask too many questions when you tell them you were evicted from your own family at fifteen. Besides, it doesn’t make me sound so great. I’m the one who was cast out. The one no one loved enough to fight for, someone who’s too much trouble to put up with. It’s better if I say they’re dead, it makes me lucky to be the one who’s still alive. Better still, it stops the questions.
Staring out the window, I watch the clouds roll by below us, a fluffy white and grey blanket I so desperately want to touch. The woman turns her attention to the guy sitting on the other side of her—some guy I noticed in the gate lounge—and asks him questions about his life instead. I've made her uncomfortable. I’ve probably made everyone within earshot uncomfortable. Oh well.
Pressing the buds of my headphones in my ears, I scroll through my music and select an album. I’m really into 90s alternative music right now so I choose Custard’s Wahooti Fandango. ‘Teensville’ starts floating into my ears as I close my eyes and lean my head against the window. I keep the sound at a level that is just enough to mask the sounds of the plane but quiet enough to lull me off to sleep. Every moment that passes is a moment closer to freedom, to a new start.
Elliot
Please let me sleep. This woman sitting next to me won’t stop yammering in my ear. I’m trying to listen and answer her politely, but I have been awake for over twenty hours now, and I’m really struggling.
My eyes stray towards the girl sitting in the window seat. Her dark curls have fallen forward, covering most of her face as she sleeps at an awkward angle against the window. I so wish I was her right now.
“Is London the end of your journey?” the woman asks, leaning slightly so her face blocks my view.
I nod and exaggerate a yawn. “It is. How about you?”
“Oh no, I'm going onto Scotland. My sister lives there in Dundee. I’m staying with her for a whole month. It’ll be wonderful. Just like when we were kids. I grew up there, you know? But we left for Australia when I was very young. My sister returned in her 20s to rediscover her heritage. Then she met a man and never left. We’ve always been so close. It’s hard having her live on the other side of the world.”
Opening my mouth, I exaggerate another yawn, nodding along while I add some sleepy eyes in for good measure.
“You poor boy, I’m keeping you up. I’m sorry.”
“It’s no trouble.” It’s a lot of trouble. Be quiet.
“I don’t sleep very well without one of these.” She takes a packet of sleeping pills out of her bag and puts one in her mouth, swallowing it dry. “I’ll stop talking now. You sleep.”
Gratefully, I close my eyes. Exhaustion washing over my body.
Paige
In my dream, there’s a bear growling outside. I’m aware it’s a dream because Australia doesn’t have bears in the wild, so it confuses me to hear one. My consciousness moves forward as the rumbling sounds vibrate through me. It’s the sounds of the plane and…. snoring? My eyes flutter open and I remove the buds from my ears—the album I was listening to long since over—and turn my head towards the exasperating noise.
The woman who was talking to me earlier has her head tilted back, her mouth wide open, the noise emanating from her throat. I squint at her, willing her with my mind to stir enough so the noise will stop. When she makes a small choking sound, I flinch, surprised and slightly impressed with my new mind control ability as she quiets and her breathing evens out.
I breathe out slowly, glad the noise is over, and move to replace the buds in my ears. But I’m paused, my reprieve all too brief, as my skull vibrates when she starts up again. So much for my awesome mind control skills…
I cross my eyes in agitation and reach my hand toward her, clamping my fingers on either side of her nose. She makes a guttural sound, and I withdraw my hand quickly, looking out the window and pretending nothing happened. I count seconds as I wait to see if it worked, feeling safe when I reach a full minute in silence.
“Thank god,” I say to myself as I lean my head back against the window. The second I relax however, she starts up again.
The guy on the other side of her starts laughing. I lean forward to look at him. Fuck, he’s pretty. In my old life, I’d call him a ‘gorgeous fuck’: a man who looks good but has little substance. They’re only good for one thing, and that thing is something I’m no longer interested in.
Seems he’s caught the giggles. He’s laughing so hard over my snore battle with Chatty McChatterson that I find myself smiling without even meaning to.
He's quite frankly, the most beautiful man I have ever laid eyes on. Which is saying something because I’ve met some stunning men in my time. He looks almost too large to be in such a small seat. His long legs are angled so that one is in the aisle, and the other is wedged in the minute gap between the seats in front of him. His broad shoulders span further than the width of the seat. And not that it matters, but his golden brown hair is a little longer than I like on a guy, but it suits him. He’s wearing a good day or two worth of stubble, which I’ll admit is a bit on the sexy side. And up this close, it’s his eyes that are most striking. They look like someone took the clearest, bluest part of the ocean and dropped it into his irises. Magazine material.
“I’m sorry,” he says, running a hand over his face. “I’m not laughing at you. I've been trying to make her stop snoring for ages. I’m laughing at the situation.”
His smile is textbook perfect and creases the corners of his eyes as they water a little from his laughter. It’s a killer smile. If I hadn’t sworn myself off men years ago, I think I’d go all fluttery over him. But I don’t. I have a black heart.
Elliot
Tears are streaming out of my eyes, and I wipe at them as this girl keeps looking at me. She’s a stunner. With masses of curly dark-brown hair, olive skin, a full pouty mouth and amazing eyes. They kind of look like a piece of amber, hazel
in the middle and flecked brown and gold with a thick dark edge before her whites come into play. They’re pretty awesome. I don’t mind that she’s studying me, because it gives me a good look at them.
I just wish I could stop laughing, because I feel like a fool. But, I’m so tired I can’t seem to control myself.
I take a deep breath to try to still my shaking body. “I’m sorry,” I say again, calming myself a little. “I think I’m delirious from lack of sleep.”
“You’ve been trying to stop her as well?” she asks, ignoring my fits of laughter.
Wiping the last of my tears away, I nod. “She took a tablet a while back and no matter what I do she still snores.”
“Great,” is all she says as she sits back forcefully in her seat. She’s quiet for a beat before saying, “Listen, I need to get away from her before I go mental. Can you get up, so I can climb out?”
“Sure,” I say, moving my legs to the side and standing in the aisle. As she stands up, I notice she’s a decent height, probably hitting just above my shoulder and I’m six-three. She’s wearing almost the same as me: light blue jeans and a fitted t-shirt. Although, mine is plain black, and hers is white with a picture of two chickens dressed up in Mexican-styled clothes leaning up against each other, the words ‘LOS POLLOS HERMANOS’ written in a circle around them. I recognise the logo from Breaking Bad.
“I love that show,” I say, indicating her shirt with a nod of my head.
Without responding, she puts her foot on her seat and hunches over as she climbs over our snoring companion and onto my chair. I put my hand out to steady her, but she doesn’t take it. She just steps down from my seat and says ‘thanks’, before walking toward the back of the plane. I catch a glimpse of a tattoo on her lower back when she adjusts her shirt before my eyes drift down to her arse as she walks along the aisle. It’s one of those firm round arses that sways as she walks, whether she’s meaning to do it or not, it’s hot. And kind of mesmerising. I feel a slight shift in my pants as I’m suddenly wondering if I could get her to join the ‘mile high club’.
Beautiful Boxset: Beautiful Series, books 1-4 Page 44