Love Me Like You Do: Books That Keep You In Bed
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“He fell for that bullshit?”
“Yes. At first, Dante said they were willing to pay an outrageous sum of money for peace of mind, but they didn’t want her to know they were keeping tabs on her. He wanted Jake to befriend her and get close to her. Once he met Gabby and saw how headstrong and independent she was, it all seemed plausible.”
“So, the entire relationship has been a lie? Damn it, Nicco. She trusted him.”
“I know. She’s devastated.”
“Again.”
“Again. But I don’t think the entire thing was a lie. Once they started dating and he started really caring about her, he stopped giving Dante anything substantial, which agitated him. He said Dante got unpredictable, showing up all the time, demanding more intimate personal info that no parent would. He tried feeding him unimportant stuff to pacify him. Her address, her work schedule, classes, her friends’ names—shit like that.”
“None of that is unimportant. He could have been waiting for her after work or followed her home and grabbed her,” I roar.
“I know that. Thank God he didn’t, but all that is stuff he could have easily found out on his own. Jake knew that. He was playing the part, so Dante would not go seeking someone else to do his bidding. I don’t know what he was waiting for, what he wanted exactly. Eventually, Jake had enough. He cut off all contact with him and made sure security at the club had his name and description and would not allow him access. But, somehow, he got past them that day, and he cornered Jake in the locker room. That’s when Gabby saw them—when he was trying to get him out of there.”
“He never thought to tell her? Warn her or her roommates that some lunatic was stalking her?”
“No. He honestly thought Dante worked for her parents, but when Gabby wouldn’t share any details about her family, he assumed they were just rich, controlling assholes. He was waiting for her to open up, which she was starting to do a little, and he thought, if he said anything, she would close back up.”
“He made the wrong decision.”
“I know that, and you know that. He didn’t know.”
“She deserves better.”
“Yeah, well, she has always deserved better than she’s fucking got.”
There is a long silence between us.
“Sorry, man. I just … I hate seeing her crushed like this again. She was finally starting to seem happy.”
“I hate it, too. All I want is for her to be happy and safe. It’s why I sent you to her.”
“What’s the next move?”
The next move is finding Dante Calvacanti and making him regret the day he was born, and then I will deal with Mr. Jacob Mason.
“Sit tight for now and just watch over her. I have to make come phone calls, and I’ll be in touch.”
I end the call and throw the phone across the room. It shatters into pieces, and Una comes running in.
“What’s happened?”
“There’s a situation in California. Can you book me on the next flight to Los Angeles?”
She just stands there. I can tell she wants to say something, and I wait.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea, Christoff?” Her worried eyes are boring into mine.
“I have to handle this, Una. I needed to go to her anyway. She has to know, and I want to tell her in person. She deserves to hear it from me.”
“She will hate you.”
“She already does.”
Acknowledgments
Where do I begin? They say it takes a village to raise a child. I say it takes a village to create a book. Here is my love letter to my village.
Colleen Hoover, this book exists because of you. Sitting on a rooftop in Los Angeles, I told you about a story I had in my head. I asked, "don't you think someone should write this?" Your reply was, "yes, sounds like you should write it." I explained that I wasn't a writer and I couldn't do it. You just kept telling me I could and that I should. So I went home, and I did.
Gloria Green, you were the first person to read any part of this story. When I sent you the file, I had already decided that if you thought it was shit, I would shelf it, and never speak of it again. I will never forget your excited phone call to me, at 5:25 pm, from a grocery store parking lot. You finished it. You loved it, and you were proud of me. That is the moment I knew Gabby and Cross's story had to be published. Let's not forget that you also helped create the perfect cover because you are the supreme model hook-up. Thank you from the depths of my soul “&”.
To my early readers: Amanda White, Jessica Barnette, Christy Hutchins, Angela Jones, Michelle Hunter, Mindi Adams, and Brandee Veltri, I can’t tell you how valuable your input was. The excited texts at all hours of the night were my favorite. I trust you all as readers and more importantly as friends. I’m sorry for keeping the secret from some of you until after you read, although, a couple of you were suspicious from the beginning, especially after Gabby and Jake’s ferris wheel ride.
Perhaps the most encouraging and unexpected of all the early feedback came from Michael McNamee. I still can’t believe you read this book, Mike. Thank you for your words and for skimming the “naughty parts” (I’m still not convinced that is the truth.)
If you all could have seen the early versions of this manuscript, man, it wasn’t pretty. All I can say is Jovana Shirley with Unforeseen Editing and Judy Zweifel with Judy's Proofreading are goddesses. Very patient goddesses. I still think commas are from the devil, Jovana.
What is a book without a spectacular cover? Scott Hoover took a few notes and the beautiful couple, Taylor Rhodenbaugh and James Pulido, and made my vision of Gabby and Cross come to life with his gorgeous photos. Then, Sommer Stein applied her design skills and, well, magic happened.
Autumn Gantz with Wordsmith Publicity, there is no way I would have made it through the publishing process without your help. I wrote the story and then had no idea where to go from there. You took me by the hand and led me step-by-step through the lengthy process. You are a rockstar at what you do, but more than that, you are a fantastic friend. I am so lucky to have you in my corner “&”.
David Miller, thank you for always having my back and supporting my dreams. You make me feel like I can do anything. You are my anchor, my rock, and the best thing that has ever happened to this small-town girl. I’m so happy God chose me to be your wife. He knew exactly what I needed and He made you just for me. Sorry about all the nights you had to pick up dinner, the days you had to wear dirty socks to work, and for all the conversations you had to have with yourself while my mind was lost in my fictional world.
Lastly, there are the countless friends I have made in the indie community over the years. Friends I consider family. Authors, bloggers, and readers I love and admire. There are too many to name, but I will name two, Corinne Michaels and K.A. Linde – I love you two more than words could ever express - Black & Gold 4Ever!
What it Takes to Fall
By CR Ellis
Prologue
Bryce
THEN
Bryce - 8, Elliot - 5
“Mom, do I have to go? I won’t eat any junk food if I stay,” I promised.
I really wanted the leftover Easter candy hidden in my closet, but I wanted to stay home more. Going with my parents to visit our neighbors, the Kincaids, was bor-ing. They were older than Mom and Dad and had no kids. Or they used to, but they didn’t anymore. I couldn’t remember which.
Mom pulled a pie out of the oven and set it down before turning toward me. “Honey, come here. We need to talk.” I walked toward the island stools and plopped down. “Do you remember the time you asked me about the girl in the photo at the Kincaids’ house, and I told you she was their daughter, but she didn’t live with them anymore?”
I nodded.
“Well, she had two daughters of her own, and now both girls are going to live with Mr. and Mrs. Kincaid. It’s a scary time for them as they adjust to their new life, so having you around might help them feel more comfortable. Plus, now yo
u’ll have friends within walking distance.”
That could be fun, even if they were girls.
“How come they had to move in with their grandparents? Did their mom move in too?”
“No, she didn’t. Their mom is having a tough time, so she brought the girls to live with their grandparents while she gets better.”
“Oh. Okay. Do you think they’ll want to swim? I could take my diving rings. I guess I could bring other toys too.”
Mom leaned over and cupped my chin. “Don’t ever let life harden your sweet heart, Bryce. The world needs more kind souls like you.”
“Mom,” I groaned, making a face and squirming out of her grasp. She was always saying stuff like that to me.
She sighed and held up her hands. “Okay, okay. As far as swimming goes, I’m not sure, honey. I think they’re both a bit younger than you, so they might not be able to swim yet. Tell you what, I’ll finish with the pie while you get some toys together, then we’ll get your dad and head over to the Kincaids’ house. Deal?”
“Deal.”
Thirty minutes later, I sat on the Kincaids’ couch, but had only seen the younger sister. Elliot, the older sister, had run up the stairs as soon as we got here.
“I’m sorry, Bryce. Elliot’s very shy. This is all still new for her,” Mrs. Kincaid explained. Sophia, the younger one, hid behind Mrs. Kincaid’s legs, but kept peeking her head out to look at me.
“That’s okay. I have a friend at school who’s like that.” I pulled my backpack off and set it down. I wasn’t sure what they liked, so I brought a little bit of everything—pool toys, Pokémon cards, Uno, Let’s Go Fishin’, Sorry, a Bop It, a Lego set, and my Superman figure.
I opened the bag, and that made Sophia come over to me. Her eyes were bugged out, like she couldn't wait to see what toys I had. I grabbed Superman and held it out to her. “Here. You wanna play with him?” She took him, and she was holding on so tight I just knew she wasn’t going to give him back. “Um, how about we play Let’s Go Fishin’ instead?”
“That’s a great idea, Bryce. Why don’t you guys go play in the den? That way you can spread your toys out.”
I was glad that when I set up the game, Sophia decided she didn't care about Superman anymore. She was too young for the other games, but I figured, how hard can it be to hold a pole out for snapping fish? She watched while I showed her what to do, and then played along. Pretty soon she started squealing because she was having so much fun, and I saw her sister's blonde hair before her head disappeared around the corner of the doorway.
“Sophia, do you like M&M’s?” I asked, pulling out a fun-size bag. “I sure do. I guess we’ll just have to share them between the two of us.”
That did the trick. Elliot slowly walked into the room, but I didn’t look at her straight on until she sat down across from me. She was a lot smaller than me, probably a kindergartener I’d guess, with blonde hair and eyes that matched the sky. She was real shy, like the deer that were always crossing through our yard.
“You’re Elliot, right? I’m Bryce. Want some M&M’s?” I held out a couple toward her, and she nodded, but didn’t say anything. “I’ve also got Starbursts, but maybe we should save those for after dinner.” She shrugged, and I wondered if she knew how to talk. “You know…Uno’s my favorite game. Have you ever played?” She shook her head. “Want me to teach you?” Another nod.
I explained the rules, but frowned when I got to what to do with a wild card. “How about you point to the color you want?” Nod. “Hmm. You’re supposed to say, ‘Uno’ when you only have one card left, but you can just hold it up,” I said. I showed her by shaking my hand around in the air, then I put my whole body into it, wiggling like a worm.
Elliot started laughing, and I knew I must’ve looked crazy. But it made her happy, and that was what I wanted.
After a few minutes, I was down to two cards. Elliot played a yellow four, and I threw down my blue four and quickly called out, “Uno!” before she had a chance to see I only had one card. I almost felt bad for beating her, but I hated to lose more than anything.
She slowly put her next card down, and the second it landed, she smiled and yelled, “UNO!”
I jumped at the sound, then looked down and confirmed she only had one card left. And—worse—she played a draw four wild card. I groaned and drew the cards.
“Yellow,” she said.
I played my only yellow card.
She dropped her last card on top of mine, and immediately broke into a big smile before copying the silly dance I’d done. “I win!”
I still hated losing, but maybe…just this once, it wasn’t so bad.
* * *
Bryce - 11, Elliot - 8
“I win!” I yelled, touching our home-base tree a good two seconds before Elliot caught up to me. She almost took me out when she did catch up, though; that’s how fast she was barreling down on the tree and me. We’d run from her grandparents’ house all the way across their property to reach this tree. It separated their property from the vineyard my parents owned.
“Ugh!” she whined. “You cheated, Bryce. I want a rematch!”
I just laughed. It was what we always said whenever we lost. Elliot was probably the only person on earth who hated to lose as much as I did, which meant we were always finding new ways to compete against each other. I was bigger and (usually) faster than her, but she never used that as an excuse for losing. Instead, she usually just found something else for us to do—swimming, board games, video games, tic-tac-toe, foot races, bike races, who could clean their room faster…there was always some competition we'd come up with.
“You wish I'd cheated. I’m just faster,” I said, catching my breath and shaking my head before holding my hand out. “Hand over the candy, Uno. A deal’s a deal.”
We both sank down to the ground, putting our backs against the tree as we caught our breath, and Elliot pulled out the Starburst packet from her pocket. She handed it to me, and I ripped it open, separating out the candies by color. We both liked the pink ones the best, so that’s what we were racing for—winner take all. I handed her the oranges (her second favorite) and kept the reds (my second favorite), and neither of us made a move for the yellows.
She glared at the pink Starbursts like it was their fault she lost, and I sighed, handing her one of the four. We both loved winning, but we weren’t mean about it.
“You staying over for dinner?” I asked eventually.
She nodded and stood up, turning back to offer me her hand. “Yep. I love your mom’s enchiladas.” Before I reached her hand, she yanked it back and took off. “Last one there has to set the table!”
“Now who’s the cheater?!” I shouted before scrambling up and racing after her.
* * *
Bryce - 17, Elliot - 14
“Bryce, hi. How are you?” Mrs. Kincaid asked, pulling the door open and ushering me in.
“I’m good, Mrs. Kincaid. Is El here?”
“She’s in the game room.”
“Thanks,” I said, heading toward the stairs.
The closer I got to the game room the louder the sound of a ball rolling across a table became. I stopped at the doorway and held in a laugh when I saw Elliot playing foosball by herself.
My friends thought it was weird that I still hung out with Elliot outside of the occasional get-togethers my parents and her grandparents had. I understood why they thought that, but they didn’t know the whole story about my friendship with her, that I was basically the first person she ever spoke to after she came to live with her grandparents.
“Doesn’t matter how much you practice, Uno. You’ll never beat me at foosball.”
She didn’t even miss a beat, just kept playing without looking up. “Am I supposed to be intimidated because you finally got a car? You wish.”
“Nah. I think my winning record speaks for itself.” I was bullshitting; we never kept track of our victories, but I definitely won more than she did.
“
Whatever, loser. You here to talk or play?” she asked, finally looking up. When her eyes landed on my bag of Starbursts, she released her grip on the table handles.
“Both. Let’s talk first. There’s something I gotta tell you.”
“Okay.”
We sat on the couch, and I dumped the Starbursts on the cushion between us. We both reached for the pink ones. There was comfort in the routine, in the familiarity of hanging out with Elliot.
Too bad that was about to change.
“Listen, there’s no way to make this suck less, so I’m just gonna say it. My parents are assholes, and they’re sending me to some prep school in Washington. I leave in a few weeks.”
She was quiet for so long I worried she’d choked on a Starburst or something.
“El?”
No response.
Without a word, she bolted off the couch and stormed down the stairs and out the door.
I let her go, knowing where I'd find her. By the time I got to our tree, she’d lost the battle against tears. I hadn’t seen her cry in years, and the sight made me uncomfortable.
“It’s not the end of the world.”
“Yes it is. You’re going to leave and forget all about me. Just like…” She stopped herself from finishing that thought, but we both knew what she'd meant to say.
Just like her mom did.
“No. That will never happen, Elliot. I’ll come back for breaks.” I turned and nudged her with my shoulder, giving her a handful of Starbursts. “And think of it this way, now you won’t have to share the pink ones.”
That earned me a small smile, and it reminded me of the day we met.