by Anthology
Oh no.
“Jonathon—”
“I need you, Mia, and I think we have a special connection. I have something deeper with you than I’ve ever had with any other woman. Ryan may be a great guy, but I want you like I’ve never wanted anyone before.”
He speaks calmly, but there’s an undercurrent of need to his voice that shocks me, coming from Jonathon.
“I’ve been honest with you from the beginning, Jonathon. I can’t—”
He leans close to me across the table, his voice soft. “That’s the thing, isn’t it? You can be honest with me. You can open up to me. But you can’t be honest with Ryan. If you can talk to me, maybe that means we should be together.”
“I can’t tell him about my past. I’m afraid of losing his love, if he knew the truth.”
“You think Ryan will be disgusted by your past. Mia, you’ve told me everything and have I judged you? If anything, I care about you more now that I know what you’ve been through. I admire you more. I know you’re strong, and you have a huge heart. I don’t see you as damaged, I see you as remarkable. Sexy, beautiful, smart, and courageous.”
“Thank you,” I whisper. It’s almost the same as what Ryan said to me, but Jonathon has said these wonderful things when he knows the worst about me.
I am deeply touched. I’m also shocked.
“But there can’t be anything between us,” I say softly. “I’m in love with Ryan.” I start to get up, to leave my coffee, but Jonathon reaches out and touches my hand.
“Don’t leave. You can be honest with me and we can still be friends. You don’t have to walk away.”
“But I don’t want to give you the wrong idea—”
“You haven’t. You never have. But it’s not so easy to stop wanting you, Mia.”
***
Two days before Thanksgiving I present my project in front of my classmates and my professor, Anton Brut. I stand in front of them and think: I survived getting attacked, I have a guy who loves me (Ryan), and I could judo throw anyone who insults me. Not that I would, but I could.
I’m proud of my project, and proud that I’ve conquered fears with Ryan’s help and with Jonathon’s help. I stand in front of my prof with confidence for the very first time.
And I prevail.
My presentation is strong and I don’t get rattled by the questions. When I have to think for a while to get an answer, I don’t automatically see it as proof I don’t belong. I can put things into perspective. Two guys I admire have complimented my strength. I survived a brutal attack. I refuse to turn into a wuss. If I did, I would be letting Jonathon and Ryan down.
At the end, my studio professor stands up. “An excellent job, Miss Reynolds. I expect you will see your dramatic improvement this term reflected in your marks.”
I’m tempted to point out that I haven’t really ‘improved’, that I’ve always had the capability. Then I realize I have improved. Inside, I have grown stronger.
“Thank you,” is all I say. “I feel I have learned a great deal this term.” I leave it at that, letting Brut think he’s responsible for my growth. Maybe my profs are partly responsible, because they’ve challenged me, and that forced me to fight harder. But the skills to fight have come from Ryan and Jonathon. I remember thinking I could be invincible with Ryan’s support. I guess it’s true.
After the last student in the class presents, it is five-thirty, and we’re free for Thanksgiving. Some of the older students head to the bar for a little ‘attitude adjustment’, i.e. a beer to relax over. I hurry back to my dorm room to pack.
Tomorrow morning—Wednesday—I’m taking a cab to the bus station, a bus to the airport, then flying to the nearest airport to home, and finally taking a bus to Milltown.
It’s going to take me hours to get home, and it’s going to be hell to survive those last few hours before I get home and see Ryan.
I thought I’d be going home to Thanksgiving certain I was going to flunk out. Now I believe I’m going to make it through.
Ryan calls while I’m packing. “Just wanted you to know I’m going crazy counting down the hours, minutes, and seconds until I see you.”
I have to laugh. “That’s exactly what I was doing.”
“I wanted to let you know I feel confident about my mid-terms, Mia. Your help really pulled me through.”
We’ve spent a lot of time via email working on his subjects. I missed being able to tutor him face to face, but I loved working out problems with him. We mesh together well.
Softly, I say, “You did the same for me.”
We hang up so we can finish packing. Ryan is going to take buses to get home, starting tonight, because there is usually a bad storm on the travel day before Thanksgiving and I insisted snowstorms and motorcycles are a crappy combination.
I’m stuffing underwear in my knapsack when I suddenly stop.
We’re good for each other, Ryan and I. That has to mean this really is a forever thing.
***
Snow is swirling in the air and there’s a light dusting on the ground when I reach Milltown. Mom offered to meet me, but I figured I would just take a cab. I end up arriving at the bus station at the same time as a friend of Ryan’s from high school, and he gives me a lift home.
I knock on the door of my bungalow and the instant my mom opens the door, I run in and throw my arms around her. Our house may be small, and our landlord may be the slowest guy on the planet when it comes to fixing things, but the lights glowing in the window look homey, and the house smells of lasagna and cookies and bread.
I’m home.
Mom gushes and hauls me inside. She has coffee ready and I desperately want a cup. But I want to get to Ryan’s house—
There’s another knock on the door. Mom smiles. “Ryan arrived home this afternoon and I invited him for dinner.”
My heart soars. “Thank you, Mom!”
I race to the door and fling it open. I grab Ryan’s hand and pull him in so fast I almost haul him off his feet. He lifts me off my feet and kisses me, but it’s a quick kiss and when he sets me on my feet, he looks at mom with a guilty expression. “Thank you for inviting me, Ms. O’Connell.” (Mom went back to her maiden name.)
Ryan holds out a small box with a bow on it. A gift for my mom.
She takes it and hugs him, beaming at him. “That’s so lovely of you, Ryan. It’s good to see you. And I suspected you and Mia would want to see each other right away.”
I go into the kitchen to take out the lasagna, and I pour my mom’s own balsamic dressing on the salad and toss it. Ryan comes in to help me, getting out plates and cutlery for setting the table
A minute later my mom comes into the kitchen. She’s holding Ryan’s gift. “Oh Ryan, this is too wonderful.”
It’s an angel made of bent metal and assorted wires welded together. It’s really lovely and unique. I gaze at Ryan. “Did you make this?”
“Yeah, this afternoon.”
I hug him, and he says softly by my ear, “I wanted to say thank you to your mom, but I picked an angel because you’re my angel, Mia.”
I have to blink away tears.
***
After dinner, Mom goes into the living room to watch television, and I quietly ask Ryan if he wants to go upstairs.
He looks actually shocked. “I don’t think your mom would like me going into your bedroom.”
That’s Ryan. Decent always. “Come on. It will be okay. We’ve been together a long time—”
He shakes his head. “No. I don’t feel right betraying her trust.” He adds softly, “I came over in the truck.”
“You want to make love in the truck? It will be freezing.”
“Not with the heat on. And I brought blankets.”
I know I have to compromise. “Okay.” I tell my mom that we’re going to drive to Main Street for Christmas shopping.
Ryan has the truck running, warming up, when I hurry outside with my winter coat, hat and gloves on. I use the running board
to climb in—his truck is a king cab and is huge. He could only afford it because it’s pretty old. I recognize where we are going, even in the early darkness of a wintery evening. “We’re going to the lake, aren’t we? Where we…had our first time?”
He grins. “Special memories.”
The minute he stops the truck, I start kissing him. We fumble our way between the seats into the back seat of the king cab. I lie down with Ryan over top of me, and he pulls the blankets over us. The snow has stopped and moonlight spills in so I can see his face, caressed by silvery-blue night. Just like our very first time making love, in early September.
It seems like a long time ago. Strangely, for all I’ve been apart from Ryan for months, I feel closer to him now.
I hear the zip of his fly. His hands brush against me as he fumbles with his condom. I’m starting to feel warm now, so I push my sweatpants down. They’re convenient for love-making in the truck.
His mouth captures mine. I open my legs as much as I can with my sweatpants binding my ankles together, which is kind of sexy. We indulge in wet, open-mouthed kisses, then he’s inside me. Filling me. I sob in relief, joy, and lust. I desperately thrust up at him, then he takes over, all coiled, controlled strength. He takes it slow at first, but I want more. I want it wild. And I coax him to keep going until he’s pounding hard into me and I’m taking every thrust. The truck must weigh a half a ton, I’m sure, but we make it rock.
His fingers go down, and his hand slips between our bodies and his fingers stroke my clit. It’s like magic. His index finger plays with me until I coil up with tension. I slide my hand down and touch my clit too. Just a bit more gently. And suddenly, my climax explodes. It’s like being smacked with a wave of pleasure. I’m swirling in it, crying out, my hips moving wildly and uncontrollably.
He comes too, jerking over top of me, and I stroke his hair, his neck, his gorgeous back.
We make love again and again, until its one a.m., and Ryan insists on taking me home so my mom won’t worry.
He drops me off at home, walks me to my door, and we share a long goodnight embrace.
“I love you, Mia,” is the last thing he says before he walks to his truck to go home.
I can’t believe I’ve found a guy who is sexy, a perfect gentleman, and deeply loving and romantic. My heart is filled to bursting. Filled with happiness. I float to my bedroom. Even my tiny room with peeling wallpaper and an uneven floor looks beautiful to me.
I never dreamed I could ever be so happy.
I pull off my outdoor sweatpants, and put on the ones I wear for bed, along with a fresh tank top. I fall onto my bed.
It’s almost the end of fall term, and I finally feel like I’m growing into the person I want to be. I feel like the luckiest girl alive because I have Ryan, and because I’ve really found love. Plus, I discovered I can come with Ryan. Everything is perfect.
What is the rest of my first year going to bring? And I know that eventually I’m going to have to be honest with Ryan. Next term, after Christmas, I’m going to have to find the courage to tell him about my past.
I just have to.
My phone buzzes and I look at it, wondering if it’s a last message from Ryan. But it’s a text from Jonathon.
Mia, he writes. I know you don’t want to change your mind and Ryan’s a great guy. But I am not going to give up. I intend to sweep you off your feet.
Want More Yardley College Chronicles?
Thank you for reading One Hot Fall Term, the first book in the Yardley College Chronicles.
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If you would like to read more Yardley College books, look for the second book in the Chronicles series, One Hot Winter Break, available now! Check it out here.
Look for book 3, about Winter Term, coming in 2015.
Here’s an excerpt from One Hot Winter Break, Book 2 of the Yardley College Chronicles by Sharon Page:
Four days after my breakup, I receive a proposition I can’t refuse.
I spent Thanksgiving with my mom, so I was supposed to fly to Washington DC in two days to spend Christmas with my stepfather and his new wife, Lisa. My birth father died and my mom remarried when I was two, so my stepfather was always Dad to me. Years ago, Dad left my mom for Susan, who was succeeded the next year by Lyndsay. When he became successful, he dumped Lyndsay and brought in Lisa. Her age is halfway between mine and Dad’s.
Lisa is actually very nice. It’s not Lisa I have a problem with. It’s my past with my stepfather.
I don’t want an awkward Christmas. I can’t face being wound up with tension, waiting for something to happen. Like Dad to try to kiss me. Or touch me. It’s going to look weird if I slug the man for just hugging me.
The easiest solution is to stay far away.
Then Jonathon Powell sends me a text. I know this is who Ryan meant when he said I’d met guys who could give me more. Jonathon became my friend during the fall term at Yardley in a really surprising way. The great-grandson of the founder of Powell Industries, a multi-billion dollar empire, Jonathon is also a multi-millionaire in his own right.
At twenty-four, he has been a student at Yardley since the age of eighteen. He keeps changing his major to stay in school and piss off his father. At the same time, he invested his trust fund allowance in business ventures.
Jonathon’s text reads: I fly to Azure in 2 days.
Azure is the exotic resort where Jonathon is going to spend his Christmas because he refuses to spend it with his family—his father, sister, and brother. His mother died fifteen years ago. He invited me to go with him for Winter Break after Thanksgiving. He was trying to convince me to give up Ryan for him. I turned him down, but it looks he still wants more.
You said no before, Jonathon continues in text. If you changed your mind, let me know. I want to be with you in paradise.
I could go to paradise with Jonathon. He wants me. We could see where it goes.
I stare at my phone, a huge decision resting in my hands.
You aren’t in love with Jonathon, you still love Ryan.
I can’t have Ryan. He’s made a decision. He’s not going to change his mind. And he just might have fallen in love with someone else.
I have to be honest with Jonathon if I go with him. I can’t just pretend I’m over Ryan when I’m not. Watching snowflakes drift past the living room window, I call Jonathon.
His voice is deep and sexy and makes me shiver as soon as he says my name. I can picture him in his family’s Manhattan apartment—they’re away—looking out over the glitter of New York at Christmas, clad in jeans, a sweater, or maybe in his trademark faded, butter-soft leather jacket. His hair is thick, silky and black; his eyes a brilliant green.
“Does this mean you want to go with me to paradise?” he asks.
Want it now? Want a longer excerpt? Check it out here.
Check out the spin offs of the Yardley College series:
Yardley College Bikers
Book 1: Fast and Mine
Geeky college student Claire Thomas suffers a humiliating rejection from the man of her dreams, and vows to learn how to seduce a guy. Her friends have the perfect tutor—Yardley College’s gorgeous king of one-night-stands, Sawyer Tremaine. Claire makes a wild proposal to Sawyer: she’ll tutor him in exchange for lessons in pleasuring a man.
Sawyer is the fastest rider on the East Coast illegal street bike racing circuit, but he’s fighting to escape the dangerous world and its high-stakes gambling. Can Sawyer break free and protect Claire—or will he lose her forever when she learns about his dark past?
Fast and Mine is available here.
The Yardley College Alumni Series by Sharon Page
Book 1: Fight for Me
I had to drop out of college to raise my son after his dad, notorious MMA fighter Ryder King, and I broke up. Ryder is so haunted by demons he won’t let anyone touch his heart. Fame, fortune, and
fighting didn’t bring him any peace, and I knew, for the sake of our baby, that I had to leave him.
That’s when I met Ryder’s best friend, Xavier Malone, a former fighter who built a billion dollar empire. Xavier is gorgeous, sweet, and wonderful with my son. I’m falling for him—but I’m scared to commit.
Then I receive an invitation to the island of Eden, a luxurious resort where I can live my every sensual fantasy. I’m certain Xavier sent it. But after I leave my son with my mom and fly to Eden, I discover I’m in the middle of a grudge match between Xavier and Ryder. They are going to fight for me: inside the ring in a televised match, and outside it—where they both plan to seduce the pants off me. But I have a surprise for them too.
Here is an excerpt from Fight for Me:
Before anything happens between Xavier and I—if it’s going to—I need to understand how I feel about Ryder. I need to know I’m really over him.
“Why not take a look at Eden’s dungeons with me?” he asks. “Just a harmless look.”
“Even just looking is going to be way too dangerous, Ryder,” I say. I stand up. “I’m really tired, and I’m going to go to bed.”
I turn to leave, and I’m suddenly staring into Xavier’s gorgeous indigo eyes.