by Y. A. Love
CHAPTER 40
Phoenix texts me, “Did you see Blake on the news?”
I quickly text back, “Yeah.”
Phoenix: “I believe him. About both—that Garrett didn’t know about the website, and that he loves you.”
When I just stare at his words but don’t text back, because my eyes are welling with tears, he types, “Brandy, he fought you off. You took off your clothes and begged him for sex, but he was all gentle with you and made you get into the bed—and he stayed in a chair. All night. He had you all covered up and he was like, guarding you. So no one could come in and take advantage of you.”
After a long moment he types, “Brandy, the guy loves you.”
CHAPTER 41
Right after Phoenix’s heart wrenching text, I get another.
When I see it, my heart pounds and my breath catches.
“Are you in the house alone?”
I stare at it a long time before I finally answer.
Sucking in my breath I type: “Yes.”
“Can I come over to talk to you?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, then type, “Yes.”
“I’m right outside.”
My heart explodes.
“Do you want me to come in?”
I swallow, then type: “Yes.”
I meet him downstairs and we sit on the couch. “My mom’s at work.”
“I know,” he says.
Yeah, of course. He used to live here. He knows our schedule. Knows everything about us. (My mom is a nurse. She works nights.)
He glances guardedly into my eyes. “Did you see Blake on the news?”
I nod, unable to speak.
He glances around the house, trying to deflate some of the tension in the air. “It’s weird to be here again,” he says. “I used to watch you at that table with your boyfriend.” He grins sheepishly, “Seeing you with your boyfriend—it made me want to be your boyfriend.”
I whisper, “Maybe you can.”
His eyes light up. “Really?”
I shrug, playfully playing chill. “Maybe.”
His hands come on either side of my face. He makes me stare up into his gleaming eyes. (Holy smokes!! He has dreamy eyes! I practically swoon just looking into them.) He draws out a ragged breath, “What do I have to do, Brandy?”
“For starters, kiss me.”
A slow grin spreads on his lips. “I could do that.”
I nod. “I know. Maybe you should—right now.”
His mouth crashes on mine and he kisses me like there’s no tomorrow. He murmurs in my mouth, “How am I doing?”
“Keep going,” I tell him breathlessly.
I feel him smile against my lips.
We kiss and kiss, his talented mouth making fireworks explode through my body. When we finally pull away, flushed and out of breath, he rests his forehead against mine. “So, do I get the job?”
“I don’t know. That was pretty good.”
He breathes out a soft laugh and ruffles my hair. “I can do more if you want.” He gently smirks. “I’m The Giver, remember?”
My cheeks ignite. “Yeah,” I mumble, my whole body suddenly on fire. “I remember.”
He murmurs in my ear, “I’m sorry I have a reputation.”
I swallow, my throat going tight with emotion.
He gently tucks an errant curl behind my ear. “Brandy, I’m so sorry about so many things. If you give me a chance, I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”
I bite my lip. “You can start by another kiss.”
He raises his eyebrows. “I’ll kiss you for the rest of my life.”
“Okay, then,” I smile. “—sold! You get the job.”
He smiles. “I’m so going to rock it,” he promises.
I actually have no doubt he will. And I have just the thing to get him started.
I grin at him mischievously, “I have this coupon.” I run my fingers through his hair, then whisper in his ear, “I want to cash it in—right now.”
He smiles huge, his eyes lighting up.
Then I get the greatest back massage of my life.
Given to me by “The Giver.”
Aka: My boyfriend.
Lucky me!
And what I really mean is: Lucky, lucky, LUCKY me!!!!!!!!!!
Life rocks! (Even without a blindfold.)
********
Note: There is another story after the following book info (on the next page). So keep reading!!
UPDATE: Melanie Marks’ newest book is: EVEN WHEN I SLEEP.
Summary of Even When I Sleep:
I stood fixated, watching her play the drums—the drums I taught her to play.
I stepped back, feeling like I was falling. Falling right back in love with her, like I never left. I didn’t want that. I needed to keep my distance from her. I had to.
But I didn’t want to. ***Darius
CAMMY: my best friend, Darius, stopped talking to me four years ago. No explanation. No goodbye. He just changed schools and never talked to me again. But suddenly the beautiful boy is back in my life. Can I trust him with my heart? Four years ago he broke it. Now I have the perfect boyfriend, and I’ve heard all the rumors about Darius’s many, MANY girlfriends. Only secretly I’ve always loved Darius. Even now. Even in my sleep.
**The book is available now.
Note from the author, Melanie Marks:
I hope you enjoyed the story.
There is another after the following book info. It’s called, “Love Me.”
If you would like to contact me, or receive email notifications of my newest books, email me at:
[email protected]
My website is:
http://www.byMelanieMarks.com
Check often for updates as I’m always writing new books
***
Below is the first chapter of Melanie Marks’ newest book:
EVEN WHEN I SLEEP
The book is only a dollar right now
(Or you can read it for free if you have Kindle Unlimited)
After the peek there is another story
EVEN WHEN I SLEEP
By Melanie Marks
CHAPTER 1
“Hockey players,” my best friend whispers, sounding in awe. Her eyes actually glaze over as she stares at the long row of them at the table near the entrance.
With a grin, I roll my eyes.
We’re at the mall, by the way. And we so didn’t come here shopping for guys, though I can tell I’m going to have to remind awe-struck Nina of this fact.
Just to be clear: I have a boyfriend. A football player—not a hockey dude.
(Just sayin.’)
Still, there they are: eye-candy (er, I mean hockey players) in all their yummy athletic glory, sitting at a long table—for charity.
However, the charity is not actually getting to ogle the hot guys though. They are actually doing something—signing pucks for a charity event or something. However, my best friend is ogling the tasty team so intensely she should probably pay for the meal. I mean, it’s for charity. And she’s obviously getting a delicious feast for her hungrily devouring eyes.
However the scrumptious team isn’t from our school, so it’s not like we could, you know—be normal and get a puck signed. It would not go over well if someone—anyone—from our school saw us (well, saw me) get a rival team’s autograph.
I mean, my little brother is totally into hockey, big time, but no way can I give him a rival team’s puck. No way. That would be sacrilegious. (Well, at my school.) Though my little brother doesn’t go to my school yet—or any school yet. (He’s four.)
Still, my school would throw eggs (well, anyway—a fit) if they caught one of our school’s cheerleaders getting an autograph from a rival school.
So, I try pulling enraptured Nina along. “Can’t go there,” I tell her.
“No. Wait!”
She totally stands her ground, as though she’s rooted in the spot. She’s absolutely not letting me drag he
r away, though I’m giving it my best shot. I really can’t afford this—getting caught near the enemy. It’s bad enough my boyfriend’s football teammates razz my boyfriend that his girlfriend is now head cheerleader for the hockey team. He’ll never hear the end of it if some “helpful” (aka: skanky) girl from our school snaps a picture of me in the enemy’s camp—and plasters it all over our school’s social media (which, unfortunately, I can’t put past most of the “helpful” girls at our school—that want my boyfriend. Big time.)
“Wait, wait, WAIT!” Nina insists. “I have to get this one guy’s autograph—I have to.”
I raise my eyebrows in surprise. “Which guy?” I scrunch up my brow. “You know a guy from that snooty prep-school—Madison Heights?”
The la-dee-da private school just barely sank to our school district’s level and started to participate in our sports programs. I didn’t know a soul from the school—and I had assumed Nina didn’t either.
But she nods, confirming I’m not quite up on my boy-crazy friend.
I blink. “You know a hockey player from Madison Heights?”
She nods again. “I do. Well, anyway, I want to. He’s absolutely dreamy. I met him at his school’s charity carnival. I took my little cousin there, and the hot dreamy hockey player was working in a booth.” She smiles sheepishly, “—a kissing booth.”
With a loud laugh, I groan. “Are you kidding me?”
“No.” She puts her hands on her hips, trying to sound offended and haughtily dignified (though she’s just playing), “It was for charity!”
I laugh again. “How much did you spend for the charity?”
“A lot,” she says.
Yeah, I’m kind of getting that impression from the way she has turned all love-struck and breathless ever since she laid eyes on that hockey table.
The guy must have been some kisser.
I sigh. “Nina, we can’t get in line for a rival school’s autograph. I’ll be burned at the stake.”
“Okay, well, I’m not going to get ‘their’ autograph—only Darius’s.”
I freeze at the name.
All the air whooshes out of me and prickles race down my spine.
When I can finally manage to form words, I choke out, “Darius?”
“Yeah, the dreamy guy I kissed, a thousand times—Darius Michaels.”
I swallow, trying to get control of my racing heart before I dare look over at the guy. Because I know it can’t be him—my Darius. It can’t … right?
I mean, my Darius is named Darius Night. And he lives somewhere far, far away. I mean, he has to. Or he would have come to see me—often.
Plus, well, it’s not the same last name. So, face it: it’s insane to get so worked up over a name. I mean, sure, my Darius was a super-star on the ice … but come on—it’s not the same last name.
It’s just the name, Darius—any time I hear it I go a little crazy.
And that’s what I’m doing now—going a little crazy.
So I swallow down my insane anticipation, and brace myself for disappointment as I finally dare peek over at the table.
But then—oh my gosh!!!
My heart slams against my ribcage.
I grab the counter for support. Because it’s him—it’s my Darius!
My heart thumping wild, I watch him in astonished awe as he signs a puck for a little boy, his dark hair falling over his gorgeous dark eyes as he hunches over the table, listening to the boy’s excited chatter as he signs the boy’s puck, his tiny smile amused as the boy gushes on and on enthusiastically to his rugged hero.
I stare at grown-up Darius in a trance, unable to breathe.
Of course when Nina had said the name Darius—of course my first thought was him. But I didn’t truly believe it was possible. Because it wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be him. It couldn’t.
… yet here he is right in front of me, smiling his beautiful smile as his little groupie rambles on and on to him energetically about hockey.
Without a word, I abruptly grab a puck from the bin.
Nina gushes out a laugh. “I take it you like?”
She waves a hand in front of my face as I continue to stare at Darius.
“Hello!” she gushes with a huge dose of wonder in her amused voice. She laughs, “You have a boyfriend, remember? You worship the guy.” Then she adds, “Though you seem to be worshipping Darius with your eyes at the moment.”
I ignore her, as it’s now my turn. Well, I might have cut a little in the line—not sure, since I was in a fixed trance and not at all aware what was going on in my surroundings. For me time stopped.
Darius went to take the puck from me to sign without actually looking at me. The line was long, it apparently took a bit of doing for him to notice one person from the next. Well, I needed him to notice me. I held on firmly to the puck as he tried to take it from me.
We had a bit of a tug-of-war.
It made him glance up at me, curiously. It was a very distracted glance.
But instantly he does a double-take.
He swallows, staring into my eyes. His lips part slightly and he goes completely still. A tiny noise comes from him as he stares.
“You’re a fan?” he asks at last.
As though he needs to ask.
I close my eyes. Is this moment real? This is really Darius? He goes to Madison Heights now? (Madison Heights!!!)
The thought is like a stab in my heart. Yet getting to see him again, actually be this close to him, it’s like a dream come true.
… only Madison Heights—the school isn’t across the country. It’s just across town—and full of filthy-rich kids. Two things that make me sick—Darius with snobby rich people, and Darius snubbing me.
The air is knocked out of me. Darius never came to see me, ever … yet he totally could have. Any time he wanted.
But he didn’t want to.
Apparently.
“No, I’m not a fan,” I tell him abruptly. “My friend is. Apparently you’ve kissed her a couple of times.”
He runs a hand through his shaggy, beautiful, messy hair. “Um, you’re going to have to give me more of a clue,” he says with a playful (weak) smile—like he’s kissed a lot of girls. Which no doubt he has. Another stab to my heart, though of course he can’t possibly know that. I mean, it’s been years, and he’s obviously forgotten all about me. He probably expects the same of me—no deep feeling, no bittersweet pain.
Sorry buck-o the pain runs deep.
He never came to see me. Not once.
“Doesn’t matter,” I tell him, trying to sound breezy. “She paid for the kiss—it was charity too. Just like this. You can sign it to my brother.”
He lifts a brow. “Your brother?”
I nod.
“Ouch,” he says with another playful (yet wan) smile. “I’ve been replaced.”
“Right,” I tell him, terse and hurting—but trying to just sound bitter. “At least this one doesn’t try to act like he doesn’t know me.”
Darius stills and his lips press together. He pales, squeezing his eyes shut a moment.
“Cammy … ” he murmurs, his voice husky and soft. So gentle, yet full of agony. “I didn’t mean to—”
“No, forget it. I don’t even care,” I snap inanely, then dash away from him.
Having just told the biggest lie of my life.
***
End of peek
Hope you liked it
Even When I Sleep is available now
https://www.amazon.com/Even-When-Sleep-Melanie-Marks-ebook/dp/B01KLW5K1U
***
Note: below are the first few pages of Melanie Marks’ book, His Kiss. Then there is another story. So keep reading.
His Kiss
By Melanie Marks
(Right now this book only costs a dollar)
http://www.amazon.com/His-Kiss-Young-Adult-Romance-ebook/dp/B00631JXEO
Summary:
Ally’s world was totally on track: the right boyfriend,
the right school activities, the right plans. But then she is bribed into kissing the school “bad boy.” (Griffin Piper.) Now nothing is right. Nothing! Because all she can think about is … His Kiss.
His Kiss
CHAPTER 1
Griffin shut his locker, then did a double-take when he saw I was standing there, waiting for him. He tilted his head with his usual smirk. Only, it wasn’t exactly his usual smirk. He looked perplexed, but sort of happy too. It was like he was trying to figure it out, mentally scratching his head: Why would shy little Ally Grange be standing at my locker?
He cocked his head further, quirking an eyebrow. “You looking for me?”
I sucked in my breath and gave a slight nod.
His lips twitched, obviously entrained by my discomfort. “What’s up?”
I bit my lip. Good question.
Tugging at the hem of my sweater, I took a deep breath, trying to summon up a little courage. I needed it. ‘Cause Griffin wasn’t exactly considered a nice guy. In fact, he was considered a terror on the hockey rink and not much different off it. And I wasn’t exactly Miss Confident when it came to mean people. I shied away from confrontation—any confrontation—and tormentors—at all cost, but here I was, seeking out Griff the Grief-Master.
He smirked again, his eyes twinkling with a strange combination of curiosity mixed with amusement. “Just spit it out.”
“Aiden Hanks,” I blurted like a cough. “He’s my …”
When I choked again Griffin finished for me still looking curious. “Your boyfriend.”
I nodded, surprised. I didn’t know Griffin knew that. I didn’t know he knew who I was.
Griffin grinned, light dawning. He had definitely figured it out. “Oh, you’re here to beg me not to bash his face in.” He tossed his history book from one hand to the other, looking amused. “The twerp sent you?”
“No!” I rushed out my next words to stop him from getting the wrong idea. “Aiden doesn’t know I’m talking to you.”
He grinned. “Then why are you talking to me?”
“Because—like you said, I don’t want you to bash his face in.” I stared into Griffin’s twinkling eyes. “Please don’t.”