The XOXO New Adult Collection: 16 Full Length New Adult Stories

by Brina Courtney

  “Too bad Liz is home.”

  I nodded. “Yeah. Bad timing.”

  “Come on.” He stood up and held his hand out for me. I took it tentatively and gave him a quizzing look. “Get dressed. I need to show you something.”

  He pulled me to my feet, and I pressed into his chest, savoring the feeling of his hardened muscles under my breasts. His touch alone did crazy things to me. I could imagine what the rest of him could do if we had more alone time together. Of all the times for Liv to show up; I gave my head a tiny shake and smiled at the irony of it all.

  “What are you going to show me?”

  “A place I loved when I could see.”

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  About the Author

  Alexia currently lives in Las Vegas, Nevada–Sin City! She loves to spend every free moment writing or playing with her four rambunctious kids. Writing has always been her dream, and she has been writing ever since she can remember. She loves writing paranormal fantasy and poetry and devours books daily. Alexia also enjoys watching movies, dancing, singing loudly in the car and eating Italian food.

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  A Firefighter's Flame

  By Dani Hart

  Dedication

  To my husband, best friend, and hero to many.

  Thank you for never giving up on me

  and for not letting me give up on myself.

  In the darkness, there's light. Sometimes it just takes you to see it.

  Prologue

  There was a time in my life when the light within me shined so brightly. At some point I lost it. I lost me. Life used to course through my veins like an out of control wildfire, unstoppable and infectious. Time was supposed to heal, but all it did was slowly strip me down to an empty vessel void of passion, desire, and drive. I wanted to scream, "Be the one to save me," but my soul was drained, my heart was shattered, and time had siphoned the life out of me.

  Chapter One

  As I sat in my gas guzzling black SUV, I blared the music to drown out the screams of my two kids fighting in the back seat. My son was seven and my daughter was four. God, how I loved them, but at the same time, I wanted to run away from it all. Before I knew it, I was at my son's carpool drop off and headed to my daughter's preschool. I was on autopilot these days. I kissed her goodbye as she clutched her arms around my neck, protesting my departure. Her teacher scooped her up in her arms and carried her into the classroom full of rambunctious kids. I half-smiled at some familiar faces as I made my way back to the car. I was so numb; I barely recognized myself anymore. I started the car and drove out of the school parking lot and back home to an empty house, left alone with my thoughts, left alone with the memory of him. I thought he was just a fleeting moment, but I was wrong. It was so much more. I was at a crossroads. Fate had finally given me a choice.

  My heart was bursting at the seams, longing to feel again. My skin was crawling with anticipation for the next fix of sensation that traveled from my fingers to my toes to my core. Was it my time, or was it too late, as I had convinced myself of so long ago? He made me feel again, but I hadn't decided if I loved or hated him for it. It took only one moment to destroy the walls that years of pain and disappointment had built. To destroy me. To make me want more. Only I didn't know if I deserved more. I had two wonderful kids, a beautiful house, and a compassionate husband who loved me more than he should. Something had been lost over the years, and I didn't know how to get it back, or if it was even possible. We met and fell in love so young, during the years flooded with insecurities and emotionally-charged hormones that you couldn't tell what was genuine and what was just a fabric of our current states of mind. I had been insecure. Who was I kidding? I still was.

  I had an unusual name, Lennox. I was thirty-two, although most who didn't know that, mistook me to be in my twenties. I had a petite frame and a pretty decent body. My hair was dark brown, for now. I changed it frequently. I used to have fight, but it had since been replaced with anxiety medications and depression. I was letting myself go, too tired to even go for a walk anymore. I wanted so much more for myself in the past. I loved to write and dream and feel inspired. I had always been ruled by my emotions, which had contributed to the extreme highs and lows in my life, but to feel numb was a curse that I had been living with for too many years that I would now fight against. Fight for the feelings that once inspired my soul and warmed my heart, because I saw him and a shock of life brought me to my knees and begged for more, shamelessly. Practically a stranger now, an angel, my redemption.

  The familiar sound of a text message snapped me out of my daze. I couldn't stop thinking about this weekend.

  It was my husband, Dean.

  Dean: Love you and miss you

  I threw the phone down without responding. He was a firefighter for the city and worked all the time. He was home maybe two days a week. The big joke among all the firefighter wives was that we were essentially "single" moms. So much independence and time away had taken its toll on our marriage. If we weren't arguing, we were ignoring each other. What happened to us? I missed us. He was my best friend, and I longed to relive the moments of our distant past.

  I needed someone to talk to. Someone who could relate and understand what it was like to live like this. To be alone for so long and have drop-by visits occasionally. I had become friends with another firefighter's wife. It was difficult to connect with her though because her husband worked a different shift than Dean, so during the times our husbands were actually home we spent it with our own families. Plus, she still had a baby at home, and she was one of those perfect moms who devoted her entire life to her kids. I was like that, but to what end? I was depressed and felt trapped because I never did anything for myself. I saw her path and the twisted turn it would take when she too wore down, but it wasn't my place to say anything to her. Not unless she asked.

  I grabbed my phone and dialed her number.

  "Hello?" she answered jovially.

  She was always so fucking happy. I envied her naïveté.

  "Hey, Jess. It's Len."

  "Hey! How are you? I've been meaning to call you. It's been so crazy over here."

  Her devotion to her family oozed from her tone. "It's going. Are you around today?"

  "Tim is home today, so we're fixing some stuff around the house. We seriously have to get together soon, though. This opposite schedule thing is crazy."

  "Yeah. Okay, well, just give me a call when you're free."

  "I'll talk to Tim and let you know. We'll make it happen soon. I promise."

  "Great. Talk to you soon. Bye," I said as I ended the call. She meant well, but I knew her promises wouldn't be kept. She was too consumed by the fantasy of a flawless life to see the imperfections of the world around her. She was a reflection of me five years ago. I needed someone who portrayed the present me and there were plenty of us out there, but I never made much of an effort to become friends with them. Maybe I needed to now. They had always tried. The wives seemed so supportive, and I was so distant. They had formed this whole community called Firefighter Wife. The internet made support more attainable, so there were many of these communities now.

  I went to the computer, looking for somewhere to turn to. I headed over to the Facebook page and scrolled through the posts. They were all positive and deceptive. Where was the truth? It was hidden as usual. Don't get me wrong; I loved the positive support, but not every day was rainbows and sunshine. This life was dark and lonely at times, and I couldn't be the only
one who felt that. There needed to be a place where wives could talk freely about the dark side, judgment free.

  That was it. I was a writer and a firefighter's wife going through one of the bleakest moments of my life. I would start a page for others like me to seek solace in. To reveal their deepest, darkest pains and hopefully learn from each other's mistakes before they made the same ones. It wouldn't atone for my own recent sins, but I could help others not follow the same path as me. I could be there for them when no one was for me.

  I took a deep breath, knowing the full weight of what I was about to do. I didn't know if a page like this would take off, but at the very least, it would be a place for me to talk about the things I had never been willing to reveal before. A place where I could still hide my face, but expose my sins.

  I selected Create a Page. My hands were shaking. It seemed juvenile, but I had never been one to talk about my feelings like this, so it was a monumental step for me. What would make a good title for the confessions of a firefighter's wife? That was it. I typed quickly as if someone would steal my idea before I pressed Submit. The cursor on the screen flashed on the title, Confessions of a Firefighter Wife. I stared at the screen for a dramatically long time, watching the cursor blink.

  It reminded me of a heartbeat, only it had an infinite amount of flashes, whereas a heart had an unknown number branded individually and uniquely to each person. I wondered how many beats I had left.

  I set up the page with a silhouette of Dean on a commercial fire. It was hauntingly beautiful. The gravity of the situation forgotten by the image portrayed. It was at night, and he was on a ladder spraying water onto an industrial building fully engulfed in flames. All it took was one wrong move in that moment and he could have lost his life. And he did this every day. At what point would the odds stack up against him? He may not live to see how many beats his heart had.

  I wrote a quick bio, pinned it to the top, and closed my laptop. I felt dazed as I thought about Dean's life at work. About the risks he took all in the name of love. He loved his job. He said it wasn't the thrill he loved the most; instead, it was the look on someone's face that said thank you for saving me. Not every call was like that, though.

  He had some rough days that affected him for months. Some even haunted him to this day. He saw things I could never imagine myself being able to handle. I didn't know how he shut it out, but I imagined it was the same way I did, bottling it up. The way we dealt with stressors wasn't healthy, and our marriage was suffering because of it and would surely fail if we didn't make a change soon.

  I couldn't shut my brain off. I desperately wanted to retrace the moments of our life to figure out what happened to us, what led to my betrayal and the possible destruction of the past sixteen years. Did he feel the same way, or was I alone in this? Had he committed the same betrayals? The thought tightened my chest and made me struggle for breath.

  I wanted to believe we could come back from this, but I just didn't know if that was what I wanted anymore. I was conflicted and confused as I had been for so long, but it took this weekend to push it to the forefront of my reality. My life, present and past.

  ****

  High School Years

  I was celebrating my sixteenth birthday with my bestie, Kylie. She had an infectious smile that lit up the world. Her soul was just as beautiful as she was. Guys fell at her feet, literally, but she never left me behind. I always came first, and if anyone ever made me feel less than that, she was sure to torture them for life. I wasn't hard to look at, but I wasn't your typical cheerleading beauty either. I was tiny with an olive complexion, dark hair, and bright blue eyes that turned green when I was feeling feisty. I think the secret of my allure was the mysterious flirtation I emitted when I was drawn to someone. No one else was worth my attention. I lived in my dreams and imagination more often than not. I wanted the fairy tale. I wanted someone to make me feel alive from the inside out. I had to feel it to want it, and when I did, watch out. I would ignite a fire inside them that they would never be able to extinguish.

  Kylie had planned a night out shopping. She loved shopping, especially for me. I was plain, and she loved dressing me up like her little doll. It made me laugh, and I loved how happy it made her when I received compliments. I wasn't huge on birthdays, but she insisted we do something. She was six months older than me, so she already had her license and was more than excited to be driving. I, however, was in no rush.

  "I can't believe you didn't take your driver's test today." Kylie was rummaging through my closet.

  I sat on the edge of my bed watching her amusedly. "I have an appointment next week, no worries." She threw a pair of red canvas platforms on the floor in front of me. "You're funny," I said sarcastically.

  "What? Come on, Len. It's your birthday. Live a little." She pouted playfully.

  "Not going to happen, Ky." I slid off the bed and pushed past her into my closet. I dug out a pair of black Converse. I was already wearing a pair of fitted Rockabilly-style jeans and a white V-neck. I pulled on a pair of invisible ankle socks and then my Converse, all the while secretly giggling to myself as I watched Kylie fuming at me.

  "Seriously, Kylie. It's not a big deal. I like simple. It's comfortable." I stood up and looked at myself in the full-length mirror. "Besides, look how cute I look, and you didn't even have to help me. I'm learning." She walked over and stood next to me as she glared at my reflection.

  "Well, I guess you do look pretty cute, but you would look amazing if you wore the platforms. I mean really, Lennox, why do you even have platforms if those are the only shoes you are going to wear?"

  "If I remember correctly, I didn't buy those. You did." I threw her a smirk.

  "Fine." She threw up her hands in defeat. "Let's go."

  She grabbed her purse off of the bed and headed out of my room, which was now a mini tornado from Kylie's clothing raid. I sighed at her, grabbed the vintage wristlet my mom bought me for my birthday, and followed her out.

  ****

  I didn't know what it was about the mall that attracted so many high school kids on a Friday night. It could be that we lived in a rural town outside of Los Angeles that didn't have much for kids our age to do. Kylie and I lived in Somis, which was way off the beaten path, so getting to the mall took us a good thirty minutes.

  There was a bowling alley and a Denny's within walking distance of the mall that everyone tended to frequent between the hours after school until the ten o'clock curfew. We had a name, "Mall Rats." I didn't partake in the antics of normal high school kids, but Kylie tended to, so tonight I made an exception and went along with it. When we walked through the doors, we caught sight of a long line forming outside of the movie theatre.

  "I wonder what movie is playing," she said.

  I just shrugged.

  "I see one of my friends in line. I'll go ask her. I'll be right back, okay?"

  She didn't wait for me to answer as she trotted into the crowded line. And then I saw a beautiful excuse of a guy standing with her friend, a girl from school whom I didn't particularly like, but the boy I had never seen before. He was tall and lean, but had well-defined muscles. His hair was styled like a guy straight out of the movie Grease only with a little more punk edge to it, and he wore amazingly dark fitted jeans and a comfortably fitting rock band T-shirt.

  I could feel the immediate lure to him. My heart fluttered, and my lips tingled. This was crazy! I hadn't even met him... yet. But I would, and I would steal him away from that girl. I felt like a dog marking its territory, but like I said before, it was rare for me to want someone, and when I did, I didn't let anything or anyone get in my way. Kylie came skipping back over to me.

  "It's a free preview thing."

  I was still staring at them. "Who's the guy Elisha is with? I've never seen him before."

  "His name is Dean. Cute, huh?"

  Oh great! Of course, she had her eye on him, too. "He's very cute."

  "They are going to Denny's after the mov
ie, so we can stalk him after we go shopping. Sound good?"

  "Sounds perfect."

  She grabbed my hand and pulled me farther into the mall. I looked back and caught Dean watching us walk away. I smiled to myself secretly. Tonight was going to be interesting after all.

  After a few hours of shopping, I ended up with nothing, but not to worry, because Kylie bought three bags of clothes to make up for it. We walked back to her car.

  "Let's head over to Denny's and see if our guy is there." She threw the bags into the back of her two-door purple hatchback coupe.

  We hopped in and drove around the corner to the restaurant. The lot was full as the sun was setting. High school kids loitered the parking lot, smoking cigarettes and blasting music from their cars. Today was the first official day of spring break in the area, and everyone seemed to be celebrating it here. So random. We squeezed into a small spot in the back of the lot and made our way among the crowd of cars and people. I recognized some, but we were in a different town than we went to school in, so there were more unfamiliar faces than familiar ones. The front entrance of the restaurant was no less crowded. We squeezed past everyone.

  "Let's look for Elisha. I'm not going to wait for a table," she said.

  I followed her inside. We scanned the restaurant and stopped at the table Elisha, Dean, and two other guys were occupying.

  "Come on." She grabbed my hand.

  "Are we really going to just go sit with them?" I asked her.

  "Um, let me think about that. Yes, of course." She giggled and pulled me along with her.

  I was surprised at how nervous I was getting with every step we took toward their table. I could feel my palms begin to sweat, so I dropped Kylie's hand and rubbed them on my pants. My breathing became slightly irregular as we barged in on their evening.