by Melody Anne
“Damn it, will you stop for a second?” he shouted.
“No,” I threw over my shoulder.
Almost to the parking lot. I dug through my bag as I power-walked as best as I could in heels.
My fingers hooked the keys and I yanked them out, victory fleeting as they flew from my grasp and landed in the grass. Before I could grab them, Seth was there, picking them up and handing them to me.
“I wanted to tell you I was here,” he said. His wary gaze moved over my face, and it was almost as if he were touching me. I fought the urge to close my eyes.
He hadn’t changed at all. Still the most beautiful boy I’d ever seen. The one I cried over. The one who broke my heart. I grabbed my keys and steeled myself against the flood of emotions that being so close to him unleashed.
“Why? It’s a free country last time I checked.” My stupid voice shook. I hated that I sounded so weak and I tried to move past him, but he stepped in my way.
“I wanted to call you, almost did a hundred times.” He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and looked at the ground.
“Then why didn’t you?” The question was out before I could stop it. I drew in a sharp breath. “Never mind. You didn’t. That’s all that matters.” Those damned tears burned my eyes again. I was not going to let him see me cry. “Just move, okay. I can’t . . .” Several tears broke free and rolled down my cheeks. I brushed them away angrily.
“Avery, please.”
The longing in his voice almost broke me. I could not stand there and listen to him tell me that he’d moved on, that he had someone else. Not in that voice.
“I have to go. I have study group in a few minutes.” The lie slid past my lips even as I moved past him.
“I miss you,” he said softly.
I froze.
“I saw you a couple of times when I first got on campus,” he continued. “You were with Grant and some other people. You looked happy. I . . . I wanted to talk to you, but I didn’t know if I’d just be screwing everything up for you again. But then today you were right there, and it wasn’t anything like I thought it would be. You were so close I could touch you, and then you were gone. I thought I imagined you, that I wanted to see you so badly that I made you up.”
“You left me that night,” I said.
“I know, I just . . .”
How dare he miss me when he was the one who walked away?
“No. You never even gave it a chance. After everything happened, I waited for you. I called. I tried to find you. I got nothing in return.” I swung around and stepped closer until we were toe to toe. I jabbed my finger into his chest. “You don’t get to say you missed me when you were the one who gave up.”
“I fucked up. I know that,” he growled. “Shit, Avery, you were standing there with a busted-up face because of me. By some stroke of fucking luck, I didn’t end up back in prison, but I had nothing to give you. My life was one big fuckup.”
“You had something, the only thing I wanted, you asshole.” I glared up at him, and the tears fell unchecked. “I told you that from the beginning, but you ignored it when things got hard. You chose to walk out of that hospital even after I asked you not to.”
I saw his jaw tighten. “I wouldn’t change that part. Sara is almost ready to leave rehab and she is sober and recovering, and Davis got twenty years because I went there that night. All I wanted was to protect my sister, and I finally did. She has a chance at a better life now.”
“And you? Do you have a life now too? Did everything work out perfect for Seth too?” I spat. The lump in my throat grew harder. Why did I even ask? I didn’t want to know.
“Are you fucking kidding me right now? I gave up the only good thing in my life, and I’ve regretted it every second of every day, so no, Avery, everything definitely did not work out for me. I might be here, trying to make something of myself, but some days it feels like it doesn’t even fucking matter. Not without you.”
He looked so serious, so lost, that it took everything I had not to reach out and touch him.
I covered my mouth with my hand. My shoulders shook with the effort to hold everything in. “What do you want, Seth?” I hated how defeated I sounded, but maybe this was what I needed. My closure. My real goodbye.
He dragged his fingers through his hair and exhaled slowly.
“I want us to start over,” he said.
My heart thumped against my ribs. They could probably hear it halfway across campus. I expected an apology, maybe, but this? What was I supposed to do with this?
“What if things get hard again? What if you run away again?” God, was this really happening? I imagined it so many times in my head that I wasn’t sure if this was real or not. Was Seth standing there in front of me telling me that he still wanted to be with me?
“Things will get hard, I’m sure. That’s life. But I promise I won’t run. I will stay and fight for us. I need you, Avery. Like I need air to breathe. You’re it for me. I’m here on campus because I want to be better, for you and for me. I’m sorry I didn’t call you back. I had to figure this shit out for myself before I could drag you back into it. I wanted to show you I was serious about a future. And you.”
He said all the right words, the ones I’d thought about for weeks and weeks. The ones I never thought I’d hear. I wanted to believe him, more than anything I’d ever wanted in my life.
“What about that girl?”
His eyebrows dipped down. “Girl?”
“The one I saw you laughing with in the coffee shop.” Before he knew I was there watching.
“Beth? She’s my academic adviser. I came in midsemester as part of a special program for underprivileged kids and have a lot of catching up to do. She checks in with me every week to see how it’s going. Wait . . . you thought . . .”
His gaze went soft and he reached for me. I reluctantly let him pull me against his chest. His arms went around my neck, holding me tight. I could hear his heart thumping steadily under my ear.
It was so familiar, so right.
“God, I’m so sorry you thought we were together. That would never happen. Even if you tell me I screwed up too badly that you can’t give me another chance, there won’t be anyone else. I was serious Avery, you are it for me.”
I inhaled a lungful of his scent, a mix of cologne and Seth that I had missed so much. I didn’t want to say no. I had to believe that we got a second chance after everything.
“Seth, I . . .”
“Wait,” he said suddenly.
He released his grip on me and took a step back, then he wiped his hands on his jeans. He cleared his throat, looked me in the eyes, and held out his hand.
“Hi, I’m Seth Hunter. We’ve never met, but I’d really like to get to know you because I think it would be pretty damned easy to fall in love with you.”
I stared at his hand, then looked up until I met his eyes. Everything I hoped for was shining out of them right in that moment. Fresh tears splashed down over my cheeks, but I didn’t wipe them away. Not this time.
Seth took a step closer and leaned down until I could feel the warmth of his whispered words across my ear.
“This is the part where you tell me your name.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
First up, I need to thank the fabulous Elana Cohen at Pocket Star. She is a dream editor who could almost read my mind, and if you love this book as much as I do, she had a lot to do with it!
My fabo agent, Mandy Hubbard, who didn’t even blink when I said, “I think I want to write a contemporary NA.”
Joy Hensley, the bestest CP and friend anyone could ask for. Support, ass-kicking, and general foolishness; the perfect combination! We got this, Bebe!!
I always have to thank the men in my life, who give me the time I need to write. Balancing everything would be impossible if not for their support. Love you guys!
Finally, to the readers. You all are the reason any of us ride this crazy roller coaster, and your support makes it all worth
it! So thank you!
Tess doesn’t want to associate herself with Ryan because she knows he only shows up when he thinks he can save her. She refuses to play the victim here, not even when she starts to fall for him.
WHATEVER IT TAKES
By L.E. Bross
On sale now!
CHAPTER ONE
tess
“Tell me again,” Noah begged. “About my mom and dad.”
I stared down at the little boy who had completely taken over my life more than two years ago and ruffled his curly blond hair. It was time for a haircut, but I couldn’t bring myself to cut his shining, lush locks just yet. I did this every time. He was going to be four next month, but more like going on forty; entirely too perceptive for a three-year-old.
Unsurprising, considering the life he’d had so far.
“You know this story already.” I pulled the covers up around his neck and patted them around his little body. He’d chosen fire truck pajamas tonight, his favorite. He smelled sweet from his bath, and his blue eyes had that sleepy look that made me want to curl up next to him and pretend the world outside didn’t exist.
Tomorrow I had to go to the Harnett Correctional Institution and see my father. Every six months I had to check in with him, and every three months I couldn’t fight the dread that pooled in my stomach for days beforehand.
I had only temporary guardianship of Noah, my little brother, and every time I saw my father, I had to prove to him that I was doing fine both in school and financially. Every time I saw my father I begged him to let me adopt Noah permanently—after all, Dad still had five more years on his sentence before he’d be out, and it wasn’t like he even wanted Noah.
But I did, and I was going to do everything in my power to make sure nothing could come between us.
I took a deep breath. I hated lying to him about his parents, but when he started asking about a year ago, I couldn’t tell him the truth: that his mother was an ex-student of our father’s and they’d been fooling around until she got pregnant. The student was eighteen, so my father got only a verbal reprimand and it all got swept under the rug, except for Noah, of course, who ended up with my father when the girl decided she didn’t want to be a mother when he was just under one.
The next time it happened, though, my father wasn’t quite so lucky.
I had just finished my first year at Brown when everything fell apart. The accusations. The arrest. The trial, and then . . . my father got sentenced to eight years in prison for having sex with a minor.
Noah’s mom didn’t want him back after my dad went to jail; she had her own life and was happy, so it was either me or foster care. It was an easy choice for me. I dropped out of Brown and made Noah my top priority. The only way my father had agreed to this plan was if I would check in every six months with bank statements and grades showing I was not only moving forward with my education but also getting all A’s while doing it.
All while holding down a job and raising my little brother.
I knew my father was just waiting for me to fail so he could say “I told you so” and put Noah in foster care, erase the glaring evidence of his mistake and his problems. He hated that I’d put Noah above everything else in my life, especially when he had pushed me so hard to succeed. It took all my willpower not to point out that he was the one who had ruined it all, but I didn’t.
Not when he held all the control.
I took a deep breath and started the story like I always did, absentmindedly rubbing his back in small circles as I spoke. “Your mom and dad loved you very much, but they just couldn’t take care of you. But they knew someone who would love you more than anything . . .”
Noah grinned and pointed at me. “You!”
“Yes, me. So that’s what they did, and now we are a family and always will be.”
Noah nodded very seriously, his tiny brow furrowed. “You’re my sister, but you do all the things a mom does. That’s what Louisa said. You cook me breakfast and take me to the park and kiss my boo-boos and hug me every day.”
My chest tightened. “Yep,” I managed to squeeze out around my thick tongue.
Noah snuggled against my chest and even though I hadn’t given birth to him, he was my heart. He was my life. And tomorrow, I’d have to once again prove to the biggest bastard I knew that I was capable of taking care of him.
But it was a dance I’d perform every day for the rest of my life if it meant that I got to keep Noah with me.
“You look tired. Are you sure you can handle everything? Don’t you want to go back to real college and start taking care of yourself? Earn a real degree? Learn how to make a proper living?”
That was the first thing my father said when I sat down across from him in the dreary visiting area. It was the same thing he said every time I came to see him. He’d gotten a haircut since the last time I was here, and despite the new gray at his temples, he was still handsome. I looked a lot like my father, with the same cheekbones and chin shape, though I hated it. I wished that I resembled my mom. She was beautiful, both inside and out.
There wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t wish she were still alive. If that drunk driver had never hit her, I never would have gone to live with my grandma when I was just eight. I never would have had to go live with my father, a man who barely acknowledged I existed before that, when Gran got sick.
Even back then my father was selfish. He left my mom when I was very young to go and teach English at a private college in California. She wanted us to go with him. He divorced her instead. It was hard to believe Gran could have a son who was so uncaring when she was the most loving person I knew, apart from my mom.
I stared at my father. He had blue eyes and thick eyelashes, and when he smiled, which I rarely ever saw, a dimple would appear in his left cheek that made him look boyish.
I guess that’s what made it so easy for him to seduce his students.
My father raised an eyebrow, waiting for my answer. Of course he wouldn’t acknowledge the community college where I’d been taking online courses for the past two years as a “real” school. To my father, if it wasn’t Ivy League, it wasn’t worth anything.
It didn’t matter to him that I studied my ass off when Noah napped or after I got home from work late at night. He wouldn’t care that I tried to make sure Noah had a happy childhood, despite how hard it was for me to keep everything together while working toward a degree.
He barely acknowledged my 3.99 GPA when I told him about it.
“No. I’m happy right where I am.” I set the manila folder down in front of me, the one that basically outlined my life the past six months. I hated this, letting my father in on every little detail. But that was him—controlling—and I had to play his game.
“You moved?”
The way he said it made me realize he already knew the truth. I wasn’t going to tell him about that. I narrowed my eyes.
“How did you know that?”
My father snorted. “Like I’d take your word on how things are going just because you bring a fancy folder with you. I have someone checking up on you. Telling me how things really are.”
Anger flared in my gut. “Then why make me go through this charade?” I waved vaguely toward the folder. If he already knew everything, then this check-in he made me suffer through every six months was a farce. “To make sure I know who’s in charge?”
I didn’t miss the look of satisfaction flicker over his face. It had always been that way. Him telling me what I needed to do and me doing it. Not because I wanted to, because I had to. Because he made it almost impossible to make my own choices, even now.
With the anger came panic this time. I’d had to use up a good part of my savings when the brakes on my ten-year-old Honda had to be replaced the same week that tuition was due two months ago. I had very little set aside right now, but he had to know it took time to build back up a savings account.
And that had been my last tuition payment, so I would be able to s
et more aside now.
Except he didn’t open the folder. He barely glanced at it.
“Come back in three months and show me something worth looking at or I’ll make the hard decisions for you, Tess.” Then without another look, he stood up and pushed his chair back. The guard moved to his side and then my father left.
I sat at the table in stunned silence.
My father had just threatened me with taking away the most important thing in my life, and there wasn’t a goddamned thing I could do about it.
CHAPTER TWO
ryan
“Pops,” I called out as I banged through our front door. “I brought burgers from that place down the road that you like.”
I set the bags on the kitchen table and started clearing away the newspaper and plate left over from Dad’s lunch. At least he ate today. Some days I came home and there was no indication he’d even moved from his chair, save for the empty beer cans lined up alongside his recliner.
None of which was new.
It had been that way for the past six years, since the day my mom walked out on us. I didn’t know what had happened, what made her decide that we weren’t worth it anymore. I asked Pops right after it happened, but he refused to talk about it with a sixteen-year-old, brokenhearted kid.
I was never a kid again after that, though.
My memories of my mother weren’t bad ones. I don’t remember my parents arguing or yelling much at all. Actually, she was the mom who had cookies waiting when I got home from school, and the trailer was always sparkling clean and smelled like vanilla and flowers.
I don’t think she was unhappy, but looking back, I don’t think she was really happy either. I never had the chance to ask her, because aside from a birthday card every year, I hadn’t had any contact with her since she’d left. No return address, no phone number, not even an e-mail address.
It was clear she didn’t want me in her life, so I accepted it and moved on. Pops, on the other hand, sank into himself the day she walked out and still hadn’t come back. He stopped caring about his small handyman business, which had always been his pride and joy, so eventually I stepped up and started doing his jobs for him while I finished high school. I learned everything I knew about construction through our school’s vocational program during my last two years of high school and hands-on after school every day.