by Haley Jenner
CROSS YOUR HEART
HALEY JENNER
Edited by
Ellie McLove
Copyright © 2019 by HALEY JENNER
All rights reserved.
Published by Haley Jenner.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Cover design: Ellie McLove
Cover Image: Shutterstock
Editor: ellie at My Brother’s Editor
This book is intended for those 18 years and older. It contains content of an adult nature.
Contents
Acknowledgments
Prologue
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
Epilogue
Cross your Heart Playlist
Want more from Haley Jenner
About the Author
Also by HALEY JENNER
Dedication
to those who offer compliments without agenda; the secret superheroes who build the world up one smile at a time.
I had the greatest friend when I was a little kid, and I got to keep her for the rest of my life.
~ Anon
Acknowledgments
Here we are again. A new release. Another HJ story out in the wild. This one, book nine. *insert scream face emoji*
We feel ready to pinch ourselves. We say it often, but this life we’re living is a dream come true. One we’re thankful for each and every day.
We haven’t done it alone, and this section of our story is our chance to say thank you to everyone who has made this possible.
To our families; our husbands who support us and who cheer this journey on without hesitation, we love you. To our kids, who give us endless hours of alone time to write and foster our creativity… JOKING. Yeah right. We love you, even though you still feel the need to be surgically attached to our sides whenever we sit down to work.
Ellie. Nine books. Three years. A friendship we’ll cherish forever. Thank you for always seeing our vision and for bending over backward to help us bring it to life. We appreciate you like you couldn’t imagine. Thank you for putting up with us and our idiosyncrasies. Remember those direct flights to Australia… hint, hint… hurry up and visit the future… We love you. More than words can say. HEJ, always.
Michelle and Annette. NO. WORDS. That doesn’t seem sufficient enough… But seriously, we don’t even know how to express our love. We want to squeeze you both so hard for everything you do for the HJ family. Thank you for being such amazing, supportive and genuine women. We love you and your #WarriorSouls.
Group Therapy… YOU. BABES. Have we ever told you we love you? No? Well, we do. So fucking much. Thank you for being our most favorite place in the whole world. Thank you for building up our world with laughter and positivity and just being your all-around fabulous selves.
To our Review team. Holy. Mothertrucking. Jesus. Thank you for showing up. Every. Single. Day. Your unwavering support warms out little black hearts and we couldn’t do this without you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
To every blogger and bookstagrammer that takes a chance on our words. It humbles us beyond belief. It still blows our minds that you babes not only want to venture into our worlds but sometimes, you really freaking dig them. *dies* This community wouldn’t be the same without all that you do. As always, we see you, we appreciate you, we love you.
Last, but most importantly not least, to the readers. You. You absolute kick-ass individuals give life to our dream each and every day. You are a gift that we cherish more than all the margaritas and tacos in the world. If we could squeeze every one of you, we would, a million times over. We. LOVE. You.
Much love, as always,
H and J xx
Prologue
Take One - Age Ten
Reid
I watch them with interest, working my hardest to understand how they find joy in the most conventional and humdrum of games. They’re in a constant state of chase, feet moving swiftly across the short cut grass. Their voices echo loudly when they tag one another, large smiles and raucous laughter shifting through the wide-open space.
Mom forces me outside to play, convinced that it’s unhealthy for me to be stuck in front of the TV, caught up in the magnificence of the big screen. She encourages me to join in on their mundane fun. It’s not that I hate being outside, I enjoy the sunshine and the rain. The sticky touch of heat clinging to my skin or the cool droplets of rain falling along it. It’s the need for me to participate that annoys me. I’m happy to observe. Watching them brings me greater joy than actually playing. Joining in from afar lets me study their expressions. The small gestures of anger, disappointment, happiness and anticipation that flick across their faces unconsciously.
I’m not a loner. I love spending time with my friends, just as much as I like being by myself. I don’t know why people need to be surrounded by friends all the time. Mom tries to tell me that friendship is about compromise. That not everyone can like the same things, but to be a good friend, sometimes you have to do things you may not necessarily enjoy. It’s the give and take.
Sounds awful if you ask me. Why should I ever have to do something I dislike, to please someone else? I wouldn’t ask that of someone, why should they do it of me?
I’m different. I discovered that years ago. I’m not like the other kids, or more, they’re not like me. Running around the playground, sticks waving about like the swords they’re pretending they are. They tantrum when they don’t get their way, throwing themselves to the ground like babies, wailing about how unfair their lives are.
Another thing my mom taught me? That life only ever gets harder. These years are the easiest, she tells me. She encourages me to enjoy myself. To play, explore, learn.
“What are you writing?”
I watch a kid shoot down the slide, his feet already running before they’ve hit the ground, a boy similarly aged hot on his heels. Confident he’ll change trajectory soon enough and move onto a slower target, I pull my gaze away, turning to the girl sitting beside me.
She’s my age, blonde hair pulled back from her face; kept in place by a black band pushed across the crown of her head.
“None of your business.” I close my notepad, frowning at the way she leans against my shoulder attempting to read.
She shrugs, eyes scanning over my face. “It kind of is,” she ponders, smiling at me. “You’re writing in a diary at the park, for anyone to see. Did they leave you out, or did you choose to sit over here by yourself?”
I blink, my eyebrows pulling together. “I don’t want to play. And it’s not a diary, it’s just a notebook.�
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Again, she shrugs, this time pairing it with a sigh. “Same thing. Don’t you worry they’ll stop asking you to play and eventually you’ll just have to sit out?”
“What does it matter?” I ask her. “I am who I am. If they don’t like me, it doesn’t mean I’m going to change.”
Her bottom lip, coated in a thick layer of gloss, tips out. “I like you,” she declares.
“You don’t even know me.”
She turns her face toward me, straight white teeth on show in her smile. “Maybe not yet, but we’re going to be best friends. I’m Roxy.”
I cough out an unimpressed laugh, my cheeks heating. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but best friends aren’t really my thing.”
Her face twists in confusion. It’s cute, her small nose scrunching up, puckering her glossy lips and tightening her eyes. “Can you really just decide that?”
It’s my turn to shrug. “Sure I can. Friendships are about give and take. If I don’t have a best friend, I don’t need to miss out on the things I like to do, to please them. I guess I’m selfish.”
She stretches her legs out, Vans, not dissimilar to mine, decorating her feet. “Why would you ever force yourself to do something you didn’t want to do just to please someone else? That makes no sense.”
I pause, my mouth on the verge of hanging open in shock.
“A best friend would never make you do something you didn’t want to. If you have enough in common with someone, what’s there to compromise? You’ll enjoy doing the same things.”
My mouth tips up in a smile that I didn’t give it permission to form. “I’m Reid and your eyes are two different colors,” I add, noticing the distinct difference; one brown, one green.
“Hmm.” She raises her eyebrows. “How observant of you.”
“No need to be rude.”
“It was a lame observation,” she argues. “Also, you left Casablanca off your list.”
My eyes fall back to my closed notebook. “What?”
“Your list, it’s the greatest movies of all time, right?”
“You’ve seen Casablanca?” I challenge.
She smiles, but not at me, up at the sky. “I’m going to be just like Ingrid Bergman when I grow up.”
“An actress?” I ask in disbelief.
She turns her smile to me. “Mmhm.”
“It’s the movies I plan on watching all weekend after my parents agree I’ve socialized enough.” I gesture to my notebook.
She laughs, the sound loud enough to drown out the jeers and laughter of the kids playing nearby. “Awesome. My mom’s just over there, I’ll ask her if I can come over.”
“You’re so… I don’t know? Strange?”
“No,” she rebuts. “I’m Roxy, you’re Reid, and we’re best friends.”
I watch her for a beat. Lifting my hand to my mouth, I spit in it, extending it in her direction.
“Ew.” She grimaces. “I am not touching your spit.”
“Have it your way,” I say. “But it’s the only way I’ll be your best friend. This way I know you’re serious. I’m not going to change for you, best friend or not.”
She looks at my hand once again. “I thought we never made one another do anything we didn’t want to do?”
“We’re not best friends yet. That rule doesn’t apply. Yet.”
Her eyes narrow on me. “From this moment, we never make the other do anything we don’t want to do?”
I nod.
Spitting into her own palm, she slaps hers against mine. “Come on, meet my mom. She’s kinda crazy, but she’s cool.”
My newly declared best friend stands, and I find myself following. “Never would’ve guessed,” I mumble under my breath.
“Heard that.” She looks over her shoulder, her ponytail swinging in the wind.
“Will your mom and dad be weirded out that you have a boy as a best friend?”
Her feet stop their movements and she twists to look at me. “Why?”
“I don’t know. Maybe they’ll be worried I’ll try to be your boyfriend.”
She scowls. “Will you?”
“No!” I snap.
“It’s every clichéd storyline come true, best friends falling in love. We’re not allowed to do that,” Roxy sighs. “Cross your heart?”
“Cross my heart,” I rush out.
“You’re supposed to say ‘hope to die’.”
I look at her like she’s crazy. “That’s stupid. I absolutely do not hope to die.”
She watches me for a beat before letting out an exasperated sigh.
“It’s part of the arrangement,” I add when she doesn’t say anything more. “Feelings are too tricky.”
“And if one of us stupidly falls in love with the other, the friendship ends.”
We eye one another for a beat of time, her mismatched stare watching mine intently.
“Cross my heart,” I finally say, a small smile tugging at my lips.
One
Take One - Age Eighteen
Roxy
“I’d like to thank the Academy.” I wobble on booted feet, standing on Reid’s bed, hand clenched tightly around my empty Coke bottle. “For this opportunity. To be standing here today among some of the most talented men and women in the industry is a dream come true.”
Hand placed on my heart, I bat my eyelashes at my best friend. “Reid.” I force a sob. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”
Sliding a handful of loose paper onto his desk, he picks up the nearest pillow, throwing it at me.
I stumble.
“Hey.” I throw it back. “I need to practice.”
Laughing, he stands from his place on the floor, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “I should’ve never told you about that stupid script.”
Jumping on his back as he ambles past, I hold on tightly as he staggers forward, grabbing my legs to right himself. “Jesus,” he huffs.
“Don’t give me a complex about my weight,” I admonish, refusing to hold on for a beat to make him carry my full body weight. “The script’s amazing, Reid. You’re so fucking talented.”
He says nothing as he walks us from his bedroom.
“You better take me with you when you become rich and famous.” I tighten my grip, arms hanging over his shoulders with purpose.
Arching his back, he shakes me off and I go begrudgingly. “Rox.” He turns. “You and me, always.” His forefinger and thumb grab my chin, the flecks of gold in his hazel colored eyes shining at me in promise. “Where I go, you go.”
“Cross your heart?” I challenge, making him smirk.
“Cross my heart.”
Hand pulling away in a fist, he nudges it against my chin.
“Firefly.” He turns away, jogging down the stairs. “Talent like you have, it doesn’t exist in this world. Trust me when I tell you that I’ll be the one following you.”
Glancing over his shoulder, I can’t help but smile at the eager belief he holds in his words.
“Mom,” he hollers, turning away from me.
I watch his descent with my heart fluttering like a net full of a hundred butterflies. Singularly soft and delicate, but altogether, wild and chaotic.
See, I’m a fraud. He’s right though, my acting talent is nothing if not Oscar-worthy. I’d know, each day is like a new take, and I nail it without a hiccup.
Truth is, I broke a cardinal rule.
I stomped all over our spit-laden promise and honestly crossed hearts.
I’m the walking, talking cliché.
My greatest secret, the largest part of who I am is the one thing Reid doesn’t know about me. The one thing I can never tell him. If I did, I’d lose him. That’s one certainty I have in this life. We agreed upon that years ago.
I fell in love with my best friend, and at the ripe age of ten, we shook hands and agreed that we weren’t allowed to do that. If we did, we would have to walk away. But I can’t do that. I’m selfish and I refuse to lose him. No matter
how much pain I cause myself living on the sidelines of my own life.
He claims more pieces of who I am with every day that passes. Collecting them like tiny puzzle pieces, all without his knowledge. He holds an entire collection of Roxy hearts, and he’s taken them all in vain because he neither wants nor cares for them.
I couldn’t pinpoint the moment I fell in love with Reid. I’d estimate between the ages of fourteen and sixteen. Impressionable years when my closest friend stuffed my heart full of him, leaving no room for anyone else. Now, only weeks away from turning eighteen, I feel like it’s all I’ve ever known. Was there a moment in time I didn’t love Reid Rivere with all of me?
Unlikely.
“You coming?” he calls up at me, pausing at the bottom of the stairs.
I nod, my feet moving on autopilot to follow his lead.
“Roxy,” his mom greets me as we enter the kitchen. “I didn’t know you were here, honey. Are you staying for dinner?”
“Raincheck, Mom,” Reid answers for me, grabbing a slice of the green pepper her knife is working through. “Rox and I have a party we’re heading to.”
I hug Bree, ignoring the sympathetic smile she offers me. My guess is the moment I fell in love with her son, Bree Rivere was onto me. Which means she also knows my evening will be spent with the possibility of front row tickets to Reid sucking face with anyone but me.