by Lauren Runow
Table of Contents
Prologue
Epilogue
Last Chance
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
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Last Chance Playlist
Other Books By Lauren Runow
About the Author
Acknowledgments
Also by Lauren Runow
Gravity
Last Chance
Lauren Runow
Contents
Last Chance
Prologue
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
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Epilogue
Last Chance Playlist
Other Books By Lauren Runow
About the Author
Acknowledgments
Also by Lauren Runow
Gravity
Last Chance
By Lauren Runow
Last Chance Copyright 2018 by Lauren Runow
All rights reserved.
This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means. Including electronic or photographic reproduction in whole or in part, without the written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Names, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
No copyright infringement intended. No claims have been made over songs and/or lyrics written. All credit goes to original owners.
Beta read and edited by Indie Solutions, www.murphyrae.net.
Cover Images © Ryan Bates Photography
Back cover photo © Adobe Stock – Eugenio Marongiu
Cover Design © Designed With Grace
Created with Vellum
For my Mom
“I could have missed the pain but I’d of had to miss the dance.”
- Garth Brooks and Tony Arata
Prologue
Mackenzie
Age 10
“Do you have everything you need?” Mom asks as we walk up to Tracy’s house.
“Yes, Mom. You already asked me that.”
She rings the doorbell and only a few seconds later the door swings open revealing a boy I’ve never seen. Instantly, my face flushes and my stomach turns at the sight of his brown hair and cute face.
“Hello, are your parents home?” Mom asks.
“Sure, come on in. Mom,” he yells as he walks away.
Tracy comes running around the corner, grabbing my hand to take me into her room.
“Give me a hug, sweetheart.” Mom reaches for me and wraps her arms around me tightly. “Be good tonight. Listen to everything Mr. and Mrs. Hayden say.”
“I know, Mom. Love you.”
Tracy pulls me into her room where she has every color of string imaginable set out for us to make friendship bracelets. Not long after we get started her door swings open.
“Tracy, don’t forget, I get the movie room tonight, Derek is coming over,” the same boy who answered the door says.
“Whatever, butt-face. You already told me that. Now get out of my room.” Tracy shoos him away.
His eyes meet mine for a brief second before he leaves. My palms instantly turn clammy.
“Who was that?” I ask.
“Ugh. That’s my stupid brother, Connor. He’s so annoying.”
He’s so cute though, is all that runs through my head as I glance toward the empty hallway.
1
Connor
Present Day
As I pull up to my childhood home, I notice a few cars I don’t recognize. This was supposed to be a family get-together, so I’m a little confused about who could be inside.
I enter without knocking or using a key, still shocked my parents leave their doors unlocked. I've lived in San Francisco too long and have forgotten what it's like to be in a small town where everyone knows each other.
My sister, Tracy, runs up. "There you are," she announces, wrapping her arms around me. "Happy birthday, bro."
I hug her back, smiling at her joy. It's been a few months since I've been back to visit. It's only an hour drive from the city, but with my crazy schedule, I don't get away as much as I should.
"Hey, squirt," I tease, winking when I turn away.
She slaps my arm. "Stop calling me that. I'm twenty-five years old."
"You'll always be squirt to me. Sorry, it's a big brother’s right to call his sister whatever he wants. You should be glad. I can think of many other names to call you." I walk down the hall into the kitchen.
"Butt-head," she yells.
"Dummy-face," I throw over my shoulder, laughing. It's sure good to be back.
The smell of my mom’s cooking fills the air, making my stomach clench in hunger and bringing childhood memories back in seconds.
A homecooked meal is something I've come to cherish and miss every day. Eating out is getting old. I’ve tried to learn how to cook but haven’t mastered more than boiling water for pasta and heating jarred spaghetti sauce.
Mom has lured me back on my birthday with promises of my favorite meal—homemade lasagna. The smell of greasy cheese and sausage brings me to heaven, and I can’t wait to sink my teeth into it. She’d better have made two batches, because I'm going to steal one to take home with me.
"Is that my little boy I hear walking down the hallway?" she calls seconds before I enter the room.
She's standing at the stove with her flowered apron on, stirring the sauce.
"Goddamn, that smells good," I take the deepest breath in, rubbing my belly in anticipation.
"Don’t use that kind of language around me," she chastises. "Come over here and give me a hug." She sets down the spoon and wipes her hands on her apron before reaching out to me.
I laugh. "Mom, you know goddamn is not a bad word, right?"
We embrace, and as I pull back her hands cup my ears. "Oh, hush now. You know it is. Let me look at you."
Her smile is one that always makes me chuckle inside. I’m twenty-eight years old, and she still looks at me like I’m her baby boy.
She rubs my cheeks. "Such a handsome man. Please tell me you’ve found yourself a nice gi
rl in the city?"
"Not yet. I wouldn't have time anyway. The law firm keeps me working till all hours of the night."
"Then you work too hard. What's the saying? All work and no play—"
"I didn't say I don't play." I wink at my dad, who enters the kitchen at the perfect moment. We share a look of understanding, and Mom playfully hits my arm.
"You stop that talk around me." She turns away, smiling.
"Oh, come on, Nancy, don't you remember us at his age?" Dad asks as he wraps his arms around her waist.
"Yes, but we were already married," she states.
My parents are the perfect couple. Still married almost thirty years later, and even though picturing them together sexually disgusts me, it's also pretty cool to see they still have an intense level of affection toward each other.
I thought I found something like that with Amy, but who was I kidding. Since it ended with her I haven't been able to get in my groove. I was wondering if I ever would.
Until last night.
This girl walked straight toward me in the bar area of the members only club I attend and seamlessly worked her way into my arms. Even though I had no plan of hooking up, I was willing to entertain her.
Real names are left at the door of the club so instead she called herself Last Chance. At the time I didn't want to know why, but as I drove home last night, the name intrigued me.
She had a wild side, like she wanted to test the limits but not obscenely. Sometimes being with someone is a little awkward or even a little nuts, but there was something exciting about this one.
Even though she told me it was her first time there, it was obvious nothing was holding her back. She knew what she wanted, and she knew how to get it. I was more than willing to be her puppet for the night.
I lick my lips, remembering her taste and the way her black mask contrasted with her milky skin.
Pulling up a stool at the kitchen island, I sit and pop grapes into my mouth. "So who else is here? I didn't recognize the two cars parked out front."
"You remember Mackenzie, don't you?" Mom asks, pushing my father away so she can walk to the refrigerator.
"Tracy's friend from high school?”
“Yeah. She's in the backyard talking to Tracy's boyfriend.”
"Oh, great. Who's this guy?" I narrow my eyes, remembering all of my sister’s boyfriends. She picks real winners.
"His name is Scott, and you can stop right there. He’s a nice guy and has been coming around for a few months."
"Nice, my ass. I don't like him."
She gives me her best motherly, don't-be-serious eyes. "You be nice now. No funny business. She seems to really like this one."
I stand to walk toward the sliding glass door. "I'll be the judge of that."
"Connor,” she drawls out.
I give her a dismissive wave and go outside, spotting them sitting at a table in a corner of the property. I take a beer out of the cooler, buying time while staring down the guy who thinks he's getting in my sister's pants.
When he wraps a hand around her thigh, a little too close to some areas for my liking, I clench my jaw. My sister doesn't even flinch from his movement, and it's written all over their body language: they've fucked, and I'm going to kill him.
2
Mackenzie
My nerves have been shit all day. I knew today would happen, they planned it weeks ago. Of course I knew his birthday was the reason why we were all gathering for dinner, but after last night, so many things fly through my head.
Will I fall flat on my face or do something stupid?
Will he even remember me?
More importantly, will he recognize me?
The glass door slides open, and I close my eyes, forcing myself to breathe the air it needs so I don't pass out.
I purposefully sat facing the house so I could stare under the disguise of my sunglasses when he arrived.
Connor.
My high school crush, but also my best friend’s big brother. All those years I stayed at their house, swam in their pool, dying for him to notice me, but he never did.
After our dance lessons, we'd sit in Tracy's room for hours on end, gawking over pictures of boys from our class, and I had to lie every time, saying I wanted one when really I wanted the boy in the next room.
He became my biggest fantasy. My everything. I'd hear him talk to his friends about other girls, and my dreams would be crushed, but every once in awhile I’d see it—a glimpse of what I saw in him reflected in his eyes while he looked at me. Those glimpses gave me hope, even after all this time.
“Tracy, I’m leaving for the night. Don’t you dare go in my room,” Connor says after barging in to Tracy’s room.
“Oh like you just came into mine. Get out of here, jerk,” she fights back.
“Just stay out this time, you hear me?” Before he leaves, he turns to me. “Hey, Mackenzie.”
I try to respond but nerves have sealed my mouth shut. Sudden fear coursed its way through my body and left me looking like a horrible mime.
He shuts the door and I’m finally able to breathe again, only to now feel like the stupidest little girl on the planet. That was my chance, the first time he spoke directly to me and I blew it.
That moment when I was eleven haunted me for years. I couldn’t help but think my first impression of us interacting is what ruined my chances. I know it’s a silly thought but as a young girl I kicked myself anytime I thought about it.
No matter of how lacking our relationship was, when I moved away to college I always kept his memory tucked away in my hopes-of-one-day jar.
He and Tracy have the best sibling relationship I've ever seen. He's crazy protective of her and any guy she dates. She hates it, but I think it's the sweetest thing. Showing the love he has for his sister that way only proves he's a great guy.
A guy I've wanted for so long and finally got last night, only he didn't know it was me.
My eyes glaze over as Connor crosses to the table. Every step is carefully placed, like he's on the prowl and Tracy's new boyfriend, Scott, is his target.
Wisely, Scott removes his hand from Tracy's thigh and stands. Holding out a hand, he says, "You must be Connor."
Connor stares at his hand for a second before grabbing it. By the way Scott winces, I can tell it's harder than a normal, friendly, how-do-you-do shake.
"I-I'm Scott," he stutters, trying not to let Connor intimidate him.
It's hilarious to watch, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from laughing. Connor is far from the scary brother type. Honestly, looking at them side by side, Scott is bigger.
The way Connor's tight designer jeans with his styled hair and sexy-as-sin stubble, compares to Scott's khaki shorts and backwards baseball hat would make one assume Scott would be the first one to throw down and start a fight. But when it comes to Tracy, Connor holds nothing back.
"You hurt my sister"—Connor glares—"and I'll kill you. I'm a defense attorney, remember that? I know all the ways to get rid of a body and leave no tracks."
"God, Connor. Stop. Leave him alone." Tracy pulls Scott back down to his seat.
Scott lets out a small laugh at Connor, thinking he must be kidding, and Connor's eyebrows rise to assure him he's not.
Scott coughs nervously, and Connor finally breaks eye contact, looking in my direction. I stare at him, mesmerized by the way he takes me in.
After a breath, I stand, pushing my glasses to the top of my head and sticking out a hand.
"Connor, long time, no see," I say more teasingly than anything. It's only been a few hours since I left his side, and I'm dying to see if he knows it too. I was wearing a mask, but I pray like crazy he’s putting two and two together.
His gaze slowly moves down the length of my body before he squints ever so slightly.
When our hands meet, warmth floods my veins. My breathing hitches for a quick second, and when his lips part, I can tell he's affected in some way too, but I c
an't read it clearly.
Our hands stay intertwined, even when his mother calls, asking him if he's thirsty.
He turns his attention toward her, holding up his beer. "I'm good." He drops my hand, realizing he still was holding on tightly.
I quickly pull my glasses down over my eyes and glance at Tracy, hoping she didn't see our brief interaction. Thankfully, she's whispering something to Scott so I sit, focusing on my breath to slow my racing pulse.
"Connor, did I tell you Scott is studying to be an engineer?" Tracy says, proud of her current boyfriend.
"Where?" Connor asks bluntly.
"Sac State," Scott replies with a smile.
"What, couldn't get into Berkeley?"
"Connor!" Tracy blurts, giving her brother dagger eyes.
Scott’s quick to answer, "It was more of a money issue. My parents can't help out as much as they’d like, and I didn't want to be stuck with a crazy amount of student loans. I got a full ride to Sac, and their program is pretty legit."
Connor rolls his eyes, more because he has no rebuttal to that comment. He lets out a huff, bringing his beer to his lips.
Shivers run through me when the sight of his tongue on the bottle catches my attention.
That tongue was everything I dreamed it would be. I felt it on every inch of my body, and Lord knows what I'd do to feel it again.