Anything but Broken

by Joelle Knox

  His lips meet mine. Rougher. Hard and hungry, like his grip on my hips as he guides me into a rolling rhythm that has me trembling in minutes. It’s intense like this, half-dressed, half-crazy, riding him until I want to scream with the pleasure of it.

  He drags my head back with a fist tangled in my hair and watches me as he fucks up into me. Again and again, every thrust so intense I can barely keep my eyes open. But I can’t look away.

  This is Sean, not holding back. This is Sean, giving me everything.

  He shatters my world with a final thrust, then follows me over the edge. And when we’re limp and trembling, tangled in our half-discarded clothing, I press my forehead to his and give him my heart. “I’m yours. Forever.”

  Epilogue

  »» hannah ««

  Friday night means football now.

  I end up in the bleachers squished between Sean and his mother. Mary puts her arm around me and gives me a hug that lasts forever, and I almost burst into tears right there in the middle of the crowd.

  Sean told me she knows everything. Part of me was still braced for rejection. I don’t know how to stop bracing for it, or if I can. But if love and acceptance can cure it, Sean’s family has made a good start.

  With my hand clutched tightly in Sean’s, I watch his brother’s team trample towards victory. I feel a million years older than the kids on the field, even though I’m not. I’m almost twenty-one. Barely getting started in life.

  That’s what Sally said when I called her last night. That I’m still a baby, and if I start making the right choices now, the whole world is mine for the taking.

  Wherever I decide to go, Sean will be right there with me.

  He surges off the concrete bench with the rest of the crowd as a tight end makes a wild catch and digs in for the long run. Sean’s brother, Joe, is on the edge of the field, waving his arm and shouting encouragement, and then I’m on my feet, too, cheering as the player dives into the end zone, the ball tucked beneath his arm.

  He rolls to his feet, the ball held aloft as the band begins to play the school’s fight song.

  I never used to like going to games. The crush of the crowd, the noise—it was always too much, especially for one girl on her own. But tonight I have a buffer of family and friends. Gibb and his brother are on Sean’s other side. Sadie and Evie are in front of us, and Grady and Sawyer are behind us.

  I still snuggle into Sean when we’re sitting again. “I’m glad I didn’t let Sadie’s fiancé talk me into betting on the game.”

  “Speak for yourself.” Evie grins over her shoulder at me. “One more touchdown and I beat the point spread.”

  I laugh. “Then you’re buying the pizza tomorrow night.”

  “Deal.”

  “Don’t let my mom hear you.” Sean lowers his voice and tugs at a lock of my hair. “She thinks gambling is evil.”

  “Only if you can’t afford it.” And honestly? I can’t. Twenty thousand dollars is a dangerous amount—enough to feel like a lot, but not so much that I couldn’t easily burn through it by being stupid. But it’s more than plenty of college kids have, and I’m going to make the most of it. “I need tuition money for spring semester.”

  “You made up your mind, then?”

  “I sent in my application today.” The nearest technical college is a twenty-minute drive, and I can envision my mother’s tight-lipped sneer of disapproval. Maybe it isn’t fancy or prestigious, but it’s affordable, and it’s a good place to get my feet back under me. “Now I wait and see, I guess.”

  He wraps his arm around me like an anchor. “You’ll be great. Better than great.”

  I believe him. Because he believes in me.

  Trey leans over and raises an eyebrow. “Party at my place after the game. Who’s up for it?”

  I’d rather escape and be alone with Sean, but I suppose I have all the time in the world for that now. And either way, being invited, being included, is nice. “That might be fun.”

  Evie tips her head back to rest on my knees and peers over at Trey. “Exactly how much testosterone poisoning am I looking at, here?”

  Gibb huffs. “Stop pretending you don’t love us, Galloway.”

  She bats her eyelashes at him. “Just you, Blair.”

  He snorts, like he knows she’s joking, and shakes his head. I’ve been watching them play this game since I came back to town, but things are different now. They had to come together to keep me and Sean from falling apart, and that changed whatever is seething between them.

  They’re both still cracking jokes, but neither of them is joking.

  The game ends with a solid victory for the home team. We stay long enough to congratulate Joe, then separate from Sean’s family to head to the car. The cluster of admirers around the Boss is small this time—only a half dozen or so people, ranging from kids to older gentlemen decked out in the opposing team’s colors. By the time Sean is finished answering questions and handing out business cards, the parking lot is almost deserted.

  I bite back a smile as I slide into the passenger seat. “You’re bad.”

  “The car is useful,” he admits. “She shows people what I can do.”

  It’s better than a billboard. Better than a dozen of them. “Do you get a lot of customers like this? Driving it around?”

  “Some. Others are just curious.” He raises an eyebrow and flashes a wicked smile. “Car people like to talk cars.”

  I’m starting to understand why. After all, I love this car, too. I love what it represents—all the time and love and care Sean put into making it everything it could be. I love the memory of our first date, and our first kiss.

  I love how it feels when we drive fast.

  He’s keeping it under the speed limit for now, his hand resting casually on the gear shift. “Do you want to go to Trey’s?”

  Part of making the right choices is being honest, even with the little things. “I think I need a break from people. Maybe for a couple hours, at least.”

  “Okay, where to?”

  I slide my hand over his. “I want to feel the wind.”

  The first hint of a smile plays at the corner of his mouth, but he keeps his gaze on the road as he points the car toward Liberty Point.

  We’re not the first to end up here. Friday night after a game? There are more than a few cars already parked on the cliff. Sean drives past them, down the winding road that leads to the old runway.

  The engine rumbles. Sean’s hand flexes beneath mine. Worry flutters up, worry about his recent accident, worry about the risk and the danger. I don’t try to shove it down this time.

  I feel it. And I let it go.

  Life is made of risks. I can’t avoid them. I can only decide which ones are worth taking. Sean’s the biggest one of all, because that’s what falling in love is all about. Trusting completely. Being vulnerable. Risking everything.

  I tighten my hand over his and smile. “Let’s go fast.”

  »» about the author ««

  Who is Joelle Knox?

  Joelle Knox is the penname of co-writing team Donna Herren and Bree Bridges. Best friends for years, they’ve been collaborating and publishing together since 2008. As Kit Rocha they write the award winning dystopian erotic romance Beyond series, and as Moira Rogers they’ve penned dozens of paranormal novels, novellas and stories.

  Anything but Broken is their first contemporary romance and their first new adult romance.

  Why so many pennames?

  So readers know what they’re getting–and what they’re not.

  Where do I find you?

  Twitter: @mostlybree & @donnajherren or at @authorjknox

  Facebook: Joelle Knox’s Facebook Page

  Announcements: Get notifications of new releases!

  Download Book #1 for Free

  »» acknowledgments ««

  Hurricane Creek never could have come to life without the encouragement and assistance of so many people, it’s impossible to list them all. But we�
��re going to try.

  We’d like to thank our editor, Sasha Knight; our proofreader, Sharon Muha; our timeline- and Bible-keeper, Lillie Applegarth; our publicist, Nina Bocci; our assistant, Nicole Snyder, and our very favorite ladies on Facebook, Tracy Meighan and Jay AhSoon Samia.

  We’d also like to thank Mrs. Miley Martin of Sayre Speedway, for patiently answering questions, and our husbands, for patiently doing everything else.

  But so many other people contributed to this book, both directly and indirectly: Ellis Leigh, Courtney Milan, Alisha Rai, Brighton Walsh, Ms. Cosmolicious, Alyssa Cole, and all the talented, kind ladies of the AIC. Calm down, Johnnie.

  Finally, we owe very special thanks to Ann Aguirre, who was the first person to read and tell us to write more, and to Kristen Callihan, who I honestly believe would have kicked our butts for not finishing this book. Y’all have the vastest knowledge in the universe.