I Belong With You

by Ashelyn Drake

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Epilogue

  I Belong With You

  Ashelyn Drake

  Copyright © 2017 Ashelyn Drake

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual places or people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced, copied, or recorded without written permission from the author.

  The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark ownership of all trademarks mentioned in this book. Trademarks are not sponsored or endorsed by the trademark owners.

  Cover design © Uplifting Designs

  To Ayla with love

  Contents

  1. Emily

  2. David

  3. Emily

  4. David

  5. Emily

  6. David

  7. Emily

  8. David

  9. Emily

  10. David

  11. Emily

  12. David

  13. Emily

  14. David

  15. Emily

  16. David

  17. Emily

  18. David

  19. Emily

  20. David

  21. Emily

  22. David

  23. Emily

  24. David

  25. Emily

  26. David

  27. Emily

  28. David

  Epilogue

  Also by Ashelyn Drake

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Emily

  On the walk from the elevator to my apartment, I contemplate how to tell Sergio that this isn’t happening. I’m not inviting him in for a drink, and I’m certainly not sleeping with him. To be honest, I’m not even sure I’m going to grant him the obligatory “end of the date” kiss goodnight. It’s not that Sergio isn’t a good guy. He very well might be. But all he did throughout the entire dinner was ask me about things I like and then gush about how much he liked them, too. I highly doubt we really have that much in common. He’s only telling me what he thinks I want to hear. I don’t have time for a guy like that. One who will change the second he gets what he wants.

  I already have my keys in hand by the time we reach my door. “You really didn’t have to walk me to my door,” I say, trying to smile politely.

  “What kind of date would I be if I didn’t?” Sergio places one hand on the doorframe and leans casually against the wall. “Besides, it’s still early. Do you like movies and wine? I could run to the liquor store down the street and get us a bottle while you find a movie to put on.”

  I’m already inserting the key into the lock and turning the doorknob. “Not tonight. Besides, I’m not much of a wine drinker.”

  Sergio stands up straight. “Yeah, me neither. Most women like it, but I prefer...” He pauses—I’m sure waiting for me to tell him what I like so he can tell me how much he loves it, too.

  I suppress a mental eye roll. “Look, Sergio, I’m tired.” Of this game he’s insisting on playing. “Thank you for dinner, but I’m going to call it a night.”

  He steps toward me for a goodnight kiss, and I make the snap decision to give him a peck on the cheek before pushing the door open and rushing into the apartment. I shut and lock the door behind me as quickly as I can.

  “You okay?” my roommate Sharonda asks, walking out of the kitchen with a steaming cup of tea. She dunks the tea bag a few times before taking a sip.

  “Date from hell.”

  Sharonda is lucky she has a great boyfriend. Devonte is gorgeous, sweet, and thinks the world of Sharonda. More importantly, he’s real. He doesn’t pretend to be something he’s not.

  “What was wrong with this one?” she asks, walking into the living room and taking a seat on the end of the couch. I can’t help feeling like she’s purposely putting distance between us. And her movements are awkward, like the way she just tucked one hand under her leg.

  But then again, maybe it’s me. I’m being overly judgmental after being out with Sergio. “Maybe I’m the problem,” I say, sitting down on the chair and propping my feet up on the glass coffee table. I was the reason David and I broke up after being together for only two weeks. He was great to me, and I’m sure he didn’t see the breakup coming. But he’s older than I am, and I kept getting the impression that he was looking to settle down. I’m not ready for that, and to be honest, I don’t think I’ll ever be. Marriage has never been in the equation for me.

  “I’m sure you’re not. It’s tough to find the right guy, and when you do...” She takes another sip of tea without finishing her statement.

  I narrow my eyes at her. Did something happen between her and Devonte? “Are you okay? You seem odd.”

  “Look, Em. I don’t really know how to say this.” Sharonda puts her tea down on the coffee table and clasps her hands together, one on top of the other. Then she starts fidgeting with a ring on her finger. Her left ring finger.

  My eyes widen, and I jump up and rush to her side. “Did Devonte propose?”

  She holds her hand out for me to see, and I sink onto the cushion next to her. The ring is a single princess cut diamond. The stone isn’t huge by any standard, but it’s crystal clear. Devonte must have gotten the highest quality diamond available. It sparkles inside the Tiffany setting.

  “This is sort of what I’m trying to tell you,” Sharonda says, her voice shaking.

  “Why do you seem so nervous? This is a good thing, isn’t it?” I know she loves Devonte. They’ve been dating for four years now, and Sharonda doesn’t share my view on commitment.

  She presses a hand to her stomach and lets out a deep breath.

  “Oh God.” I raise my hand to my mouth. “Are you pregnant?” Did Devonte propose because he knocked her up?

  “No.” She frantically shakes her head. “Nothing like that. I’m just sick with the idea of asking you this.”

  Asking me what? To be in the wedding? I could see why she would be nervous to do that given I don’t believe in marriage.

  She looks around the apartment. “I’ve loved being your roommate.”

  She doesn’t have to continue because I know exactly where this is going. “Devonte is moving in here?” I nod in response to my own question. “Of course, he is. It makes sense. His apartment is too small for two people, and this was your place, not mine.” She offered me a room when I graduated college. I’d been friends with her younger sister, Sameerah, so when we both found ourselves in need of roommates to split the cost of rent, it made sense to live together.

  “You know I love you. I don’t want you to think of it as me kicking you out. It’s just that Devonte and I are planning a fall wedding. October to be exact.”

  “That soon?” October is only two months away.

  She nods. “Devonte thinks it would be better if we l
ived on our own once we’re married, you know?”

  So I don’t have to move out immediately. I have some time to look for a new place. I breathe easier at the thought.

  “Of course, with all the wedding plans and the short amount of time to get things done, I was hoping you wouldn’t mind moving out sooner rather than later. My best friend, who is also going to be my maid of honor, is coming to visit and help with the plans. I figured it would be best to have her stay here so we can make the most of the time we have to get everything done.”

  I swallow the lump in my throat. “How soon?”

  “Next week.”

  My shock must register on my face because Sharonda turns green.

  “Oh, God. I’m so sorry, Emily. You must hate me.”

  “No. I don’t hate you.” She just got engaged, and I don’t want to ruin what should be a happy time for her. I wrap my arms around her. “I’m happy for you. Really, I am.”

  “I’ll help you find a new place. I promise.” She pulls away, and a tear slips down her cheek.

  “Don’t cry, and don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. I’m an amazing roommate, after all.” I smirk, which makes her laugh.

  “You are.” She squeezes my hands in hers. “Do you want me to help you put an ad in the paper?”

  I laugh. “I work for a newspaper. I’m sure I can handle that.” Of course, the thought of moving in with a complete stranger doesn’t make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Somehow, the night I didn’t think could get much worse just did.

  Chapter Two

  David

  The best part of working at For the Record is the location. It’s close to Front Street, which happens to be where my favorite bar, Last Call, is. But better than that, I have the best boss and coworkers I could have ever hoped for. Mr. Monohan pretends to be tough, but we all know he’s nothing but a big teddy bear underneath the loud voice and rough exterior. He’s also brilliant, which is why he promoted me to news editor when we all left Priority News and he started up his own paper. He brought the best of Priority News with him, too. Nate and Aria aren’t just great at their jobs—they’re great people. A lot of fun to hang out with after work.

  My favorite coworker, though, has to be Emily. Emily Richards. She’s a hot twenty-three-year-old who can flirt like the best of them. For two weeks, I called her my girlfriend. But a woman like Emily isn’t easy to keep. I have no ill feelings toward her at all. I knew asking her out was a long shot. I couldn’t help myself, though. And she should win an award for how she broke things off with me. She was sweet about it, and she’s remained my partner in crime at the paper. Monohan made her the opinions editor, which is the perfect job for her since her opinions are worth their weight in gold. Monohan’s always been about giving people chances and advancing people’s careers. At twenty-seven, I’ve put in my time as a staff writer. But Emily wasn’t even at Priority News for a year, and already she’s an editor at For the Record. She’s good too, making Monohan look like a freakin’ genius. My guess is she feels she has something to prove. Either way, I get to spend every workday with her.

  I get off the elevator and step into the newsroom. “Morning, people,” I say, raising my paper coffee to-go cup in the air in greeting.

  Nate nods and waves a hand in the air, already hard at work. Aria’s office door is open, and I can hear her voice. She must be on the phone. These people are all workaholics. But Aria is the managing editor of the paper, so she has more on her plate than the rest of us.

  Emily comes walking in behind me, but she’s not her usually-smiling self.

  “Hey, beautiful. Where’s your smile this morning?” I bump her with my hip as she walks by.

  “Hi, David. Rough night,” she says, keeping her head down.

  For a moment I think she must have had a late date, but I doubt she’d look so miserable if that were the case. Unless the guy was a dick to her. I follow her to her cubicle, which happens to be right next to mine. Monohan arranged our cubicles in groups of four, allowing everyone to talk at will. I fling my messenger bag over the partition and onto my desk.

  “Talk to me,” I say as she sits down.

  She swivels her chair so she’s facing me. “First, I had an awful date.” She rolls her eyes.

  I take a sip of coffee to suppress my smile. Not that I think Emily should date me again, given the four-year age difference between us, but I don’t exactly want our workplace flirting to end, so it’s good that she’s not serious about anyone.

  “Then I come home to find out my roommate got engaged and wants me to move out of the apartment. So now I have to find a new place to live by next week.” She sits back, looking completely defeated.

  I lean against her desk, crossing one foot over the other. “Okay, so do you have any friends who have spare bedrooms?” I want to add “female friends,” but I keep the thought to myself.

  She shakes her head. “And I really don’t want to have to sleep on someone’s couch until I find a single in this town.”

  Single-bedroom apartments are tough to come by in Priority. The place is like a smaller version of New York City. It’s not cheap either. Most people room with others to save on rent and other living costs.

  “Everyone, meeting in the conference room,” Aria says, stepping out of her office and circling her finger in the air in a signal for “round ’em up.” Nate loops his arm around her waist and walks with her. I watch as he kisses her right under her left earlobe and she laughs. Those two are the epitome of the perfect couple. They started out as friends for some insane number of years, neither wanting to risk their friendship to see what it could turn into. But that all changed a couple months ago, and now they can’t keep their hands off each other. They aren’t fooling anyone by closing Aria’s office door for “meetings” either.

  Emily gets up and walks past me. I follow her, taking in the short length of her skirt. She has great legs. Long, lean—and I can attest to their flexibility, too. God, those were a great two weeks we shared. Her hair is long and falls in soft waves halfway down her back. She glances over her shoulder at me, knowing full well that I’m checking her out. She smiles at me and gives her ass a little shake for my benefit. Yes, she makes working at this paper the highlight of my day.

  I take a seat next to her at the conference table and note that there’s no spread for us today. When Monohan first started the paper, we got coffee, bagels, and donuts. Now, we have itemized lists in front of us.

  Monohan stands at the head of the table with Aria sitting directly to his right. “Okay, everyone. It’s Monday. You know what that means.”

  “Come on, Mr. M.,” Emily says, her lower lip jutting out in a pout. My eyes linger on her mouth as I resist the urge to nibble that lip. “You can’t expect us to work on empty stomachs. What happened to the donuts and coffee you used to bring us?”

  “You all consumed them. They’re gone, and now it’s time to work.” He winks at Emily before laying out the details of what needs to be accomplished to get this week’s paper out on time. The man has a way with words, which I guess is why he runs his own newspaper. He sort of reminds me of my dad. He’s a ball buster, but he has a heart.

  Once we all have our assignments, Monohan dismisses us. I need to email the news reporters and give them their story assignments. At first I thought I’d miss being in the field, but I have to admit I love working in the office and reading all the stories the staff writers put together. And I didn’t even mind the switch from features to news. I spend my morning matching the stories with the staff writers I think would enjoy them best. It’s a trick I picked up from Aria when she was the features editor at Priority News. She knew we worked best when we enjoyed the stories we covered. She’s smart, which could be why she’s second-in-command at twenty-six. I do miss working next to her, though. I also miss how Emily and I used to share a cubicle when we joined forces on a story. Sometimes we’d even share the same chair.

  “Do you have a minute?”

&nbs
p; I look up from my computer screen to see Emily standing in my cubicle.

  “For you? Always.” I swivel around to face her.

  “Do you know anyone who’s looking for a roommate? I mean, I could run an ad in the paper, but by the time it was posted, I’d have to already be out of my place.” She’s fidgeting with the last button on her blouse, giving me the mental image of her undressing. This is the downside to knowing what she looks like naked. It’s hard not to see that when I look at her.

  I shake my head and stand up, taking her hand in mine to stop her from putting any more suggestive images in my head. “I have an extra bedroom.” The words slip out of my mouth before I have time to think about what I’m actually saying. I can’t ask my ex to move in with me, can I?

  Her eyes light up. “You do?”

  “Yeah. My roommate moved out last month. I was planning to find someone else, but with this paper starting up, I never got around to it.”

  “And you don’t mind living with a woman?”

  I’ve lived with a woman before, but that was my sister. Dear God, what am I thinking? I couldn’t handle knowing Emily was in the next bedroom every night. Or in my shower. But my brain must not be communicating these thoughts with my mouth because I say, “No sweat. You’d be doing me a favor.”

  She grips my hand. “You’re serious? Because I don’t want you to say you are if you’re not. You don’t have to do me any favors. I won’t hold it against you if you change your mind. I mean, we work together. You might get sick of me if you have to see me at work and at home.” She looks away, and I’m positive she’s trying not to bring up the fact that we used to share a bed.