Impossibly Forever: Two Books in One (Impossibly Duology)

by Shane Morgan

  IMPOSSIBLY

  FOREVER

  The Complete Duology

  SHANE MORGAN

  Copyright © 2014 Shane Morgan

  TSW Books

  All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in any format. Please do not partake in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials. Purchase authorized editions only.

  ISBN: 9780615977997 (paperback)

  Cover Image © RGBstock

  Formatting by S. Morgan

  This is a work of fiction and is a product of the author’s imagination. Anything mentioned that relates to actual names, events, places, or institutions are used fictitiously.

  IMPOSSIBLY FOREVER:

  Impossibly Love

  Impossibly True

  PART ONE

  IMPOSSIBLY

  LOVE

  CHAPTER ONE

  Moya

  “Open this door right now!” The urgency in my best friend’s voice was nothing compared to the thunderous roar coming from outside as she pounded on my door.

  Apparently, calling me at 5am wasn’t enough for Vanessa. She had to let everyone else in the dorm hear about my recent failure to show up on a date she arranged the night before. Her timing couldn’t have been worse, because it was almost 8am and I had to get to my Business Law class.

  Opening the door halfway, I pouted at her playfully. “Nessa, give it a rest. I told you I didn’t want to go. So don’t come yelling at me now ‘cause the guy told you off.”

  “Not him,” she shushed, hands placed on her hips as she rocked from side to side. “Tobias took it better than I thought, being the sweet gentleman that he is. Calvin was the one that got all snappy with me because it’s his friend. Then he called you a bitch. First of all, he had no right to say that about you ’cause you’re my best friend, so of course I went off on him. But that’s beside the point, Moya.”

  She pushed me aside and entered the room, plopping down on my bed. “Tobias is a nice guy. He’s been asking about you since Calvin’s birthday bash back in June.” She softened her expression and a flirty look appeared. “Plus, he’s really cute. I can’t believe you’re turning this one down as well.” Vanessa shook her head, making the tsk-tsk sound.

  I ignored her dramatics, grabbing my book bag off the arm of the chair. “Nessa, I don’t have time for this again. I’ve already tried dating when we started college last year. It didn’t work then, and right now, I’m trying to focus on my studies.”

  Vanessa sprang from the bed. “I’m so tired of hearing that!” She waved her hands in the air hysterically. Her braids all but flew out of the band keeping them in a ponytail. “No one, absolutely no one, is meant to be alone, and you can’t go through life like that. Everybody needs love, Moya. Sooner or later someone’s gonna pop-up and open those pretty little brown eyes glaring at me right now and make you see the light.”

  I rolled my eyes and grabbed my keys off the desk. As I turned to open the door, Vanessa moved swiftly past me and blocked me in, with her plumped, strawberry-colored glossy lips pursed and a know-it-all expression on her cute face.

  I leaned my head and sighed, irresistibly admiring how the subtle, powder foundation she was wearing gave her cheeks a soft finish. It complimented the natural glow of her flawless, dark brown skin.

  Vanessa was quite the beauty. No matter how early in the morning it was. All I did was showered, combed out my curls, and got dressed casually in jeans and a sweater for class.

  Glancing at my watch to check the time, I asked eagerly, “You mind? I gotta get to class.” Then I pointed a finger at her and reminded, “So do you.”

  She smacked her gum and opened the door, stepping out into the hallway.

  Vanessa didn’t spare a second to switch subjects. The moment I locked up, stuck my keys in my bag and fell in stride with her, she filled me in excitedly about the latest campus party. “Anyway, here’s your chance to redeem yourself. You know Darla’s a member of the hottest sorority here, right?”

  I nodded.

  She went on, “So, my girl got us invites to a party this Friday at their residence hall apartment. We’re talking free food, cool music, and hot guys.”

  Vanessa threw her arm around my back and jerked me a bit. “Moya, say you’ll come and not leave early for the weekend to write papers or read chapters way ahead of your classes?”

  I sucked my teeth and moved the loose curl that fell over in my face. “No way, you know I don’t like parties, everyone just gets wasted. Nessa, you know I don’t drink.”

  Bringing me to a halt on the last step of the stairs, Vanessa jiggled excitedly as she implored, “Come on! We’re sophomores now for crying out loud! Let’s take advantage of this freedom. No parents. No curfews!”

  I let out a titter. Ever since we were kids, my best friend had a way of making me relax with her enthusiasm.

  “You know what,” I flicked her forehead gently with my middle finger, “you’re like a little devil on my shoulder, telling me all the bad yet “fun” stuff I should do.” I waved off Vanessa’s pouty lips as we approached the main doors of the dorm.

  Getting outside, she tugged on the sleeve of my knitted sweater before I could take off down the path to the school of Business. “Girl, please, we came to Easton U together. I really want to have a little bit of fun with my best friend before we graduate. You’ve already ruined our first year with this blah attitude. It’s time for us to party a little.” She pleaded with puppy dog eyes.

  “Okay,” I exhaled. “I’ll think about it and let you know later. Right now, I gotta get to class.”

  “All right,” Vanessa gave me a slight nudge then took off towards the school of Medicine where she majored in Occupational Therapy. I headed in the opposite direction to the school of Business.

  Finance was not my first choice. However, after testing it out in my freshman year, I decided to stick with it since the major hadn’t placed a bitter taste in my mouth.

  I’d been deliberating on what exactly to major in at Easton U until Momma convinced me money should be my area of study. To her, I was a genius at budgeting, in other words cheap—so, why not earn a degree and get paid for my calculative thinking.

  Honestly, I was partly doing it for my momma. College was her dream for me. She worked hard as a single mother so we could afford to live in an upscale neighborhood like Berlin Heights, Baltimore, and that I’d have unlimited opportunities. Not that I didn’t aspire to get to Easton University as well; I was doing it for both of us, which was why my main focus was on my education—not on dating and partying.

  Sinking into my seat up front, I took a breather before getting my laptop ready for Business Law. It was my second week as a sophomore and already I had a bad rep in class for questioning Professor Durant’s concepts. Aside from filling me in on his many accolades and what qualified him as an instructor, he also reminded me I had the option of voluntarily dropping out of his class should I find him unsuitable to teach me. Of course, I stayed, because it was a requirement for my major.

  The good professor wasn’t the only one who made me feel uneasy the first week. There was a guy—not too bad looking if I might add—that sat by the window on the far left side of the room. It seemed he strategically selected that seat to have his attractive outlines highlighted in the sunlight, looking like a model from one of those sizzling cologne Ads.

  Several moments during the last class, he’d smooth his hand through his ash blond hair and served me a flash of his brow. His bluish-green eyes appeared inviting each time I glanced over from feeling his gaze on me.

  His hotness wasn’t the p
roblem though, or the fact that I’d even noticed. He just wouldn’t stop staring at me. Evidently, he hadn’t picked up on my uninterested face as yet—tight-lipped, blasé attitude, and annoyed eyes—because he appeared delighted in sharing his opinion whenever I had something to say last week.

  Maybe he got a kick out of doing that, but I certainly wasn’t a fan of guys who tried to sound intelligent just so they could impress me out of my clothes. No matter how enticing he appeared.

  What was his name again? Branden, that’s right. Branden McCarthy. What did it matter? Durant was about to pose a question for class discussion and it was imperative I listen.

  “Meet Caroline. She had been working as an assistant Creative Designer for a big name fashion company for about three years. On the day Caroline was hired, she signed a contract that required her to share any ideas about improving the company’s clothing line with the Senior Creative Designer. She was never to withhold designs for herself or share them with competitors. Now, what happened was, Caroline decided to start her own clothing line and sell on the side. Her boss became aware of this venture and decided to fire Caroline on the grounds that she breached her contract and will maintain that belief should she decide to file a suit against the company. What are your thoughts on this?”

  Professor Durant rolled up the sleeves of his plaid blue shirt and stuck his hands in his pockets, peering around the room as several eager students raised their hands high in the air, desperate to be called on.

  His forehead furrowed as he directed his attention on me, curious as to why my hand remained beside my laptop on top of the desk. Durant’s next move reminded me why I disliked Wednesdays already.

  “Ms. Douglas, nothing to share?” he asked in a condescending tone, sitting on the round edge of his steel designed instructor’s desk with the admirable cherry laminated top. Apparently, I had an eye for interior design as well.

  I closed my laptop and stretched my hands out on top of it, replying politely, “My hand wasn’t raised.”

  He nodded as he replied, “Yes, which has me somewhat concerned, since you had plenty to share last week. Surely you must have something to help Caroline’s case?”

  I was being pulled out so I delivered sharply, “Not really. Caroline should have brought up her intentions to start her own clothing line before going ahead with it. The fact that she was hiding, and designing discreetly doesn’t make her look good.”

  “I don’t remember Professor Durant ever mentioning that Caroline was hiding and designing discreetly.” He spoke, no surprise, in opposition with what I said.

  Branden McCarthy better be prepared. I was going after him now.

  “Professor?” he looked to Durant for confirmation.

  Professor Durant stood; a smug look appeared on his face as he glanced from me to Branden. “No, Mr. McCarthy. I did not. Thanks for pointing that out.” Turning to me briefly, he said, “I’d rather you use details I’ve provided, Ms. Douglas. Give me your views without speculating. So, am I to assume Branden, you’re for Caroline?”

  Branden leveled in his seat as he answered, “Yes, Professor. In Caroline’s defense, the contract stated she should give her ideas when it regarded the company’s line. Besides that, young designers in big name fashion companies do their own thing all the time. So, I think she’ll win if she brought up a law suit—”

  “Law suit?” I repeated mockingly, turning in my seat to give Branden unwavering contact even though he was sitting four rows over. “Are you serious?”

  Professor Durant cleared his throat. “Ms. Douglas, take it easy. It’s only a class discussion.”

  I nodded and continued, “Sounds to me like Caroline’s true intentions were to get inside a fashion company and gain exposure for three years in order to get her own stuff off the ground. What’s to stop the company from saying she copied their designs to make hers? Sounds reasonable—”

  Branden cut me off, “Then, that would be speculation again, Moya, and very unethical of them.” The soft way in which he said my name placed a weird feeling in my stomach. I relaxed a bit.

  For a moment, I sat staring at him, not hearing the rest of his statement. I regarded Branden’s polite manner, how confident he seemed. When he finished speaking, the corner of his mouth turned up and smirked at me. It was in such a delectable way I actually considered jumping over the desks and toss him to the floor.

  I shook off the crazy fantasy—what was I thinking?—remembering instead how Branden interrupted me earlier. I began shooting invisible lasers as I glared at him and said, “Sadly, Branden, we live in a world where companies aren’t always ethical. Caroline would be lucky if she got any buyers at all if she challenges a top fashion company with a flimsy lawsuit. Besides, she was probably let go because they believed she’d be holding back good designs for herself. I think this is a good opportunity for her to now focus on her own clothing line. Why waste time going after the company only to be in the right?”

  Branden snorted, “Easy for you to say.” He made every word sound sexy without trying. Or was it me letting my guard down? “Caroline’s still a startup designer, she was working as an assistant. Her clothing line probably hasn’t piqued interest yet so she most likely still needs her job—”

  “Please,” It was my time to interrupt him. I ignored Professor Durant’s motioning to take back control of the class by clearing his throat repetitively. “If she hadn’t piqued anyone’s interest, her boss wouldn’t have found out to begin with. Some buyer probably saw the name of the company she worked for and wanted to learn more about her. Trust me, Caroline has no case and should move on.”

  After concluding, I stared at Branden long and hard. In return, he was trying to charm me with a passionate look in his aquatic eyes. That smart ass sneer he flashed me when Professor Durant said we both had a point made me shudder. I knew the type of guy he was, though, the kind of games they liked to play. I would not be fooled by his façade.

  Still, I was somewhat bothered by Branden’s attractiveness. I even had trouble steering away from his magnetic gaze until Durant’s voice zoomed in and filled the room. “I look forward to reading your papers on a similar topic I’m about to pass out. Nothing difficult or too overwhelming, simply state your opinion in 500 words. No more, no less,” he explained, as he sent around the handouts.

  Professor Durant quickly moved into the next topic for discussion, and I felt lucky he didn’t call on me again for the remainder of class. I also managed to unchain myself from whatever it was that made Branden get under my skin.

  The period came to an end, and I exhaled an air of relief as I made my way out the door. I never anticipated talking to Branden McCarthy before or after class, so I couldn’t fathom why he was hurrying to catch up with me before I went up the stairs to the next class.

  “Hey, Moya,” he jerked my elbow slightly as he reached my side.

  Turning to face him, I gave Branden an uninterested look. “Yes?”

  His jaw twitched nervously. “Look, I hope you didn’t take any of that personally. I mean, it was only a class discussion. Not everyone is going to agree with each other, you know.”

  Branden eyed me up-and-down strangely. Like, he had another motive for stopping me besides to apologize, which he didn’t have to.

  “It’s no big deal,” I said nicely, turning to leave.

  “Wait.” He moved around and stood in front of me, his eyes lighting up like the stars. “I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me sometime?”

  Branden waited patiently for an answer.

  For a fleeting second, I pondered on whether or not I should be polite in my response. But I couldn’t help it. I let out a chuckle. His idea of me actually going on a date with him was too funny. Not even his hotness could prevent me from saying what I said next, “Not interested.”

  I brushed past Branden. He gasped as I walked up the flight of stairs and turned the corner. Several guys before him had reacted in the same way. Each one stood stunned. />
  How could I’ve turned them down? Simple: I didn’t trust men. My hurtful past with one in particular prevented me from doing so.

  Branden McCarthy would be added to the list of guys who now knew the notorious Moya Douglas was that kind of girl: one who wouldn’t give guys the chance to deceive my heart with that silly emotion called love. It had already betrayed me deeply, a long time ago.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Branden

  Moya turned me down. I wasn’t surprised. It was only my second week of seeing her around campus and I could already tell what kind of girl she was. Not that I wanted to make any assumptions, but she didn’t seem like the type to say yes even if she wanted to. Still, from the way Moya glanced back at me in class, I knew I was starting to affect her somehow, which fueled my hope that soon she’d agree to go out with me.

  Moya Douglas was a challenge I had never taken on before, because I’d only dated one girl throughout high school.

  There was something alluring about her, not only her hourglass figure and hypnotizing beauty, but there was definitely something that drew me in like a magnet.

  Back at the dorm, relaxing in bed, I tucked my hand behind my head on the pillow as thoughts of Moya consumed my mind. So far, I had discerned three things from noticing her in class:

  One: Moya was well-guarded.

  Two: She questioned everything. Even if the facts were clear and concise.

  Three: There was a part of her holding back, which contradicted the way Moya fought to prove her point, especially when I debated her in class that morning.

  But in spite of her hardness, her personality intrigued me. I was eager to learn more. I had to find a way to break down her wall.

  The sound of keys jingling as the door unlocked brought me back to earth. Warren poked his head in halfway. I knew what that meant.