THIS ONE’S
FOR YOU
BRANDY JELLUM
Booktrope Editions
Seattle, WA 2015
COPYRIGHT 2015 BRANDY JELLUM
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License.
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should be directed to: [email protected]
Cover Design by Rachel Mizer
Edited by Jennifer Mattison
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to similarly named places or to persons living or deceased is unintentional.
PRINT ISBN 978-1-62015-800-5
EPUB ISBN 978-1-62015-819-7
Library of Congress Control Number: 2015911803
Table of Contents
TITLE PAGE
COPYRIGHT PAGE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
DEDICATION
AUTHOR’S NOTE
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY-ONE
TWENTY-TWO
TWENTY-THREE
TWENTY-FOUR
TWENTY-FIVE
TWENTY-SIX
TWENTY-SEVEN
TWENTY-EIGHT
TWENTY-NINE
THIRTY
THIRTY-ONE
THIS ISN’T GOOD-BYE
MORE GREAT READS FROM BOOKTROPE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
To Shellila and Gregg, thank you for raising such a beautiful daughter. Words cannot express the joy I feel from knowing her in the way I did. She was the most precious soul I had ever met, and it’s all in thanks to you. Not a day goes by that I don’t miss or think about her. She may be gone, but her legacy lives in the hearts of those who had the pleasure of meeting her. I love you, guys. And again, thank you for bringing such a lovely person into my life.
To my Booktrope Family, as always, thank you for taking a chance on a young woman with big dreams. None of this would’ve been achieved without the support of you all. The family dynamic we have is what makes Booktrope the greatest thing since sliced bread. You guys rock!
To Samantha, my fabulous book manager, you are amazing. To put it simply. Your support, your enthusiasm, and kindness is more than I could ever ask for. I don’t know what I’d do without you by my side.
To Cindy, where do I even begin with you? Suffice to say this book probably wouldn’t have seen the light of day without you. The late-night phone calls, the brief ‘got a sec’ messages that turned into hours of book plotting, building characters, just about everything to do with this book, have meant the world to me. I value our friendship so much. And I just want to say thank you for being there through one of the toughest periods of my life.
To my grandparents, I don’t know how I can ever begin to thank you for everything that you do. So instead, I’ll leave you with a simple ‘I love you to the moon and back.’ I think that says it all.
To my mother-in-law, thank you for your never-ending support. For being proud of me and telling everyone that your daughter-in-law writes books. I’m so glad that we have a close relationship. I’m fortunate enough to have a mother-in-law that I adore . . . and who can cook like it’s nobody’s business.
To my mother, I love and miss you dearly.
To my fans, I hope you enjoy Brennan and Owen’s story. It was a long, bumpy, and emotional ride for me. And I hope you fall in love with them as much as I have. Thank you for your endless support, your love, your messages, and for taking a chance on someone new. You all mean the world to me!
For Mirranda, the most beautiful soul I have ever met.
I love you, always and forever.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
While the story that follows is entirely fictional, as well as the characters, this book was written in honor of my best friend, who I lost in a tragic accident. Some of the characters are loosely based off of her, and share similar personality/physical traits. This is my way of honoring her and the friendship we shared over a span of thirteen years.
I hope you enjoy!
ONE
“YOU NEVER SAID this was a coed dorm, Brennan.”
I looked over my shoulder at my brother Damon, who was juggling two large suitcases between each hand as we stepped out of the elevator. His eyebrows knit together, his teeth clenched and his knuckles white; it was clear that he wasn’t happy. He stopped, waiting for me to follow suit. I turned around and flashed him the biggest smile I could manage.
“Oh, please,” I said. “Like you didn’t stay in a coed dorm at UW.”
He rolled his neck from side to side, and took slow, deep breaths. His chest rose and fell slowly. He glanced around the hall, the one that held the room I would be living for the next nine months, give or take. I glanced up; his six-foot-two frame towered a solid foot over my own. His normally sky blue eyes, the same ones that we both shared with our father, seemed to darken with his mood. I tugged the corners of my lips up, hoping that my “baby sister” charm would perk him up.
He frowned instead. “Exactly my point. I remember what it was like.”
“Luckily, I had three older brothers growing up,” I said, patting his shoulder with my free hand. “I learned the fine art of self-defense.”
I turned on my heels and resumed walking again, searching for my room. I squeezed past a small group of guys who were crowded outside the room closest to the elevator door. A catcall whistle sounded as I continued. Behind me, I heard Damon release a low growl, and I laughed quietly to myself.
I probably should’ve warned him about the dorm before we arrived, but I knew I would’ve never made it inside if I had. It was one thing that I was breaking family tradition, not attending the University of Washington, but it was a whole other thing that I was in a coed dorm. Both my parents and Damon were alumni for UW, and my twin brothers Trent and Trevor were currently juniors there. From the moment I was born, I sported purple and white—the school colors. Everyone assumed I’d keep with tradition, and I did for a while, but things changed, and I did the unthinkable. I decided to go to the University of Oregon. My mother cried, my brothers declared I was a traitor, and my father went all Incredible Hulk on a chair.
I was doing this for a reason. I think my family knew—and understood—but it still didn’t make it any easier for them. Nor for myself. I wasn’t one to stray far from home. And though technically I was only about seven hours away, it was still a new state, and I didn’t know one single person. It frightened and exhilarated me at the same time. I was nervous, not going to lie about that, but I wasn’t going to let it stop me. I had a plan, a carefully detailed plan, and I was going to stick with it no matter who I pissed off, or however many chairs were broken.
I kept scanning the bold, black letters on each door I passed, each one growing bigger than the last. On the left were all the odd numbered rooms, so mine—Room 312—would be on t
he right. It seemed to be the last room on the floor. As I drew nearer, someone jumped and landed in front of me. I let out a startled yelp and took a step back. My eyes were level with a naked chest. I scanned the guy in front of me, my eyes landing on his boxers, the only thing he was wearing, and released a soft chuckle. He pressed a red plastic cup into my free hand.
“Welcome to college, fresh meat!” he shouted.
Before I could return the drink and its mysterious liquid, he planted a kiss on my cheek and skipped away. I heard a loud thud behind me. Suddenly, my brother appeared, taking the drink from my hand, and shoving it into the chest of a random guy passing by.
“Okay, that’s it,” he huffed, retrieving the suitcase he had dropped. “We’re going to student services and getting you assigned to a new dorm.”
“Damon . . .” I whined. Around the age of five, I learned that I had this power of some sort when it came to my brothers. I wasn’t sure exactly what it was—all I knew was all I had to do was pucker my lower lip, bat my eyelashes, and voila . . . I got what I wanted. I was hoping this time it would work. “I’m not a little girl now. It’s only college. What’s so wrong with that?”
“Everything.” He wasn’t budging. “And it’s just a dorm. There are plenty of dorms here that you can live in. Ones that don’t have horny bastards waiting to pounce on you as soon as I leave.”
I was going to have to work harder if I wanted to win this battle. I batted my lashes harder and smiled a sweet, innocent-like smile. “But you stayed in a coed dorm,” I reminded him.
“That’s different,” he replied.
“Why? Because you’re a guy and I’m not?” I challenged. He shot back an intense stare, and I could tell I’d said the wrong thing. His head nodded ever so slightly, and I could feel the irritation bubbling in my veins. “Since when did you become such a sexist hypocrite?”
His body tensed, and I thought I might’ve pushed it too far. Damn, whatever happened to that superpower I had? It all but abandoned me in my moment of need. Damon sighed and ran a hand through his short, blond hair. Out of my three brothers, he and I looked the most alike, but we still had our distinctions. Where his hair had more of a gold tone to it, mine looked as if the sun had kissed it. His facial features were strong and jagged, where mine were soft and delicate. He was tall and lean, I was short and petite. Okay, so maybe we weren’t exactly identical—not like our twin brothers, who had our mother’s soft brown hair and chocolate eyes—but close enough that there was no mistaking the resemblance.
“Brenn,” he said softly. “I just remember what it was like.”
My lips curled up in a genuine grin, no mischievous intention behind it. “Like I said before, I had three older brothers—brothers who liked to pick on me—I know how to handle myself, okay?”
When he didn’t answer, I took it as my cue to continue on before he changed his mind. I quickened my pace, nearly desperate to reach my room, as if once inside, there’d be no going back. Three doors later, my earlier assumption was correct—my room was the last one on the right. Without knocking, I pushed opened the door.
“Shit,” Damon spat out behind me. I looked across the room to see what cause the profanity to slip from his mouth. Sitting on the bed to the right was a brunette. She was wearing a pair of spandex shorts—like a volleyball player wears—and a bright pink bra. That was it. The wooden door slammed behind me.
“Sorry ’bout that,” she said, climbing off the bed. She grabbed a gray shirt draped over the back of a chair and slipped it over her head. “I had no idea when you were coming. Your stuff arrived yesterday without you.”
She motioned toward the few boxes sitting beside the bed across from hers. I smiled, making note that she already claimed her side of the room. I walked toward the bare mattress and dropped my duffle bag on it. “You can come in now!” she shouted behind me.
When I turned back from the bed, I found myself face-to-face with her. She stood a couple inches taller than me, her eyes the color of jade. She stuck her hand out. “So, I guess we’re roommates for the year,” she said. “I’m Amelia.”
“Brennan,” I said, taking her hand into mine.
“I know.” She winked.
The door opened slowly, and Damon paused inside the frame. His cheeks were flushed a light shade of pink, and his eyes were lowered to the floor. He crossed the short distance between us and set my suitcases near the foot of the bed.
“I hate to interrupt,” Damon said, his voice soft, “but I really need to get back on the road.” He pulled me tightly into his arms and kissed the top of my head.
“Have fun,” he whispered. “And be safe.” I squeezed him, not wanting to let go. In the days leading up to this, on the drive here, I was fine, but now that I was about to be left alone, I was starting to doubt my decision. The thought that it wasn’t too late to turn around and go back home crossed my mind, but I tried to keep calm instead. The panic was setting in; my chest tightened, my breathing quickened. My brother seemed to sense my sudden change in attitude. “You’re going to be okay,” he added gently. “Remember why you’re doing this.”
He was right. All of this was part of a much larger scheme. Reluctantly, I released my hold around him. Loosened from the comfort of his arms, I started to rub the gold locket that hung from my neck. My graduation present from my father before I broke the news that Daddy’s little girl was leaving home. Since then, the necklace and the picture inside brought me more peace than anything else. Damon gave me a knowing look, but the struggle in his eyes told me that he wasn’t sure he could leave.
I’m fine, I mouthed silently to him. I wasn’t fine, but if this was going to work, I had to say it.
“Sorry about, uh, before . . .” my brother stammered, directing his words to Amelia. “For you know, walking in on you while you were indecent.”
“Don’t sweat it, hot stuff,” she teased back.
Hot stuff? His face was pale as he turned back to me. He planted a kiss on my cheek and quickly disappeared out the door. For a split second, I wanted to chase after him and tell him to take me home. Sure, I couldn’t go to UW if I went back, but I could go to the community college until transferring for winter term. The more I let the thought creep into my mind, the more it sounded like an okay idea.
But I stayed rooted. I was seeing this through if it was the last thing I did. One day at a time, I thought, just one day at a time.
As soon as the door closed, my roommate turned toward me. “Who was that,” she asked, “and where can I get one?”
“Damon, my brother,” I answered. “Got two more like him back home, though not as handsome in my opinion.”
“Any of them single?” Amelia inquired.
That didn’t surprise me. In fact, I would’ve been more surprised if she hadn’t found him attractive in some way. Women seemed to flock to all my brothers—especially my oldest—but none of them seemed interested in any of their admirers. Damon was career driven and seemed content with being alone while trying to move up the ladder at our mother’s law firm. It was disheartening. He was a great guy and would make any woman happy. As for the twins . . . well, if you weren’t made of pigskin and didn’t fly through the air, you simply didn’t exist in their world. The two of them both played on the football team at UW, and that was all they cared about.
“Yeah,” I said. “But Damon has seven years on us, the twins . . . well . . . I’m not sure they even know what girls are. It’s all about football, football, football, for them.”
“Ooh, twins.” Amelia’s face lit up like the Cheshire Cat. She rubbed her hands together, as if she had something up her sleeve.
I shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other before sitting down on my new bed. In a blink of an eye, Amelia dropped to the floor and crossed her legs—crisscross-applesauce style, like they taught us in elementary school.
“I sent you a couple of e-mails over the summer,” she said. I was gratef
ul that the topic had quickly moved on from my brothers.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. Guilt washed over me like a tidal wave. I felt horrible for not replying to her messages. After getting my dorm assignment, the university gave me Amelia’s e-mail and highly recommended we correspond prior to move-in day to make our first meeting less awkward. I failed to e-mail her and was quickly regretting the decision.
“I got them,” I replied softly. Her face dropped, disappointment etched into every crevice of her face. “I was super busy this summer, though, kept forgetting to respond.”
It was a lie. I’d started to type out some kind of response several times but ended up deleting all of them before I even finished. I never understood why, but it just didn’t feel right. I wasn’t ready to open myself up and make room for a new friend yet. Now that I was here, I knew I had to make some sort of effort at a friendship. Otherwise this year would be painfully awkward.
The air fell thick around us. I glanced around the barren room. It was more spacious than I expected. A desk separated our beds, and there was a closet without doors to the right of me. The closet was divided in two, and each side had built-in shelves and a bar to hang clothes. Amelia had taken to putting away her things on the side of the closet closest to the wall shared with her bed. An alarm clock, lamp, and laptop were already set up on the desk. I wasn’t sure how I felt about her just commandeering the room, but at the same time I had no right to complain. She arrived first. If the roles were reversed I might’ve done the same thing—the keyword being might’ve.
“Sooo . . .” Amelia dragged out. “There’s a party tonight. I was thinking about checking it out. Wanna come?”
Suddenly, my veins felt like ice. Panic was making its presence known. My heart kicked up to an accelerated pace—a sure sign it was trying to jump out my chest. My knees begun to bounce up and down in rapid succession as my throat became dry and scratchy. My eyes flitted around the room, looking anywhere except toward the brunette sitting in front of me, and I wrenched my hands in my lap. Most people wouldn’t react in this manner at the simple mention of a party, but then again, I wasn’t like most people. I was fully aware of the happenings during college—parties playing the majority role—but I didn’t think I would have to face it so soon. My plan to go home was sounding better by the second.
This One’s For You Page 1