by B. B. Hamel
His Wonder Baby
A Miracle Baby Romance
BB Hamel
Contents
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1. Addie
2. Will
3. Addie
4. Will
5. Addie
6. Will
7. Addie
8. Will
9. Addie
10. Will
11. Addie
12. Will
13. Addie
14. Will
15. Addie
16. Will
17. Addie
18. Will
19. Addie
20. Will
21. Addie
22. Will
23. Addie
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Royal Rock: A Bad Boy Royal Romance
Prologue: Bryce
1. Bryce
2. Trip
3. Bryce
4. Trip
5. Bryce
6. Trip
7. Bryce
8. Trip
9. Bryce
10. Trip
11. Bryce
12. Trip
13. Bryce
14. Trip
15. Bryce
16. Trip
17. Bryce
18. Trip
19. Bryce
20. Trip
21. Bryce
22. Trip
23. Bryce
24. Trip
25. Bryce
26. Trip
27. Bryce
28. Trip
29. Bryce
30. Trip
31. Bryce
32. Trip
33. Bryce
34. Trip
35. Bryce
36. Trip
37. Bryce
Ruined: A Bad Boy Romance
1. Riley
2. Logan
3. Riley
4. Logan
5. Riley
6. Logan
7. Riley
8. Riley
9. Logan
10. Logan
11. Riley
12. Logan
13. Riley
14. Logan
15. Riley
16. Logan
17. Riley
18. Logan
19. Riley
20. Logan
21. Riley
22. Logan
23. Riley
24. Logan
25. Riley
26. Logan
27. Riley
28. Logan
29. Riley
30. Logan
Copyright © 2018 by B. B. Hamel
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Photo by Oleksandr Zamuruiev/Shutterstock.com
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1
Addie
I roll my eyes as the lake splashes up against the shore. “Put your shirt on, Will.”
He gives me the boyish grin that always drives me crazy and flexes a little bit. He does a little dance, rubbing his arms against himself, trying to warm his skin up in the freezing air. I have to look away from his defined chest and abs, trying to hide the red on my cheeks. I don’t need to listen to him mocking me for an hour if he knew I was blushing.
He’s always been stupidly handsome, but it’s these past few years at college that made his body a true work of art. Playing college hockey has been really great for his sex appeal, unfortunately for me.
“Or else what?” he asks, cocking his head.
“Or else you’ll freeze to death and I’m not going to help you.” I cross my arms, breath streaming out white. “Come on, seriously.”
“You’re always so hard to please.” He laughs a little bit. “Plus, this is sort of the point of everyone being out here.” His rubbing gets more frantic, hands on bulging triceps.
“Hard to please?” I groan a little bit. “Come on, seriously. It’s freezing out. You don’t have to prove yourself.” I speak in a hushed but insistent tone. I don’t want any of his jerkoff jock friends to hear me, since they’ll never let me live it down.
His grin gets bigger as he slowly takes off his jeans. I can feel myself getting flush and hot again as he ends up in just a pair of dark boxer briefs, huddled close to me for warmth. I want to reach out and touch his skin like I’ve wanted to so many times in the past, but I stop myself. Other groups make small talk, someone yelling about his “tiny frozen nuts” and passing around a bottle. I’m supposed to stand guard over his clothes, but really all I want to do is get the heck out of here, preferably with my half-naked best friend in tow.
“Come on, dude,” Mike says, making a lewd gesture and coming over toward us. He’s tall and broad, like most hockey guys, with a crooked nose and a furrowed brow. “Don’t be a little bitch.”
“Hear that, Addie?” Will asks me. “He thinks I’m a little bitch.”
“You are!” Mike says and turns to the water. He jogs over and steps in, making a little squealing sound of surprised as he submerges his legs up to the knees.
I sigh and I know I’ve lost this already. “Fine,” I say. “Get hypothermia. See if I care.”
Will’s smirk is so familiar, like the sunrise, and it never fails to make me smile in return. “Don’t worry, Addie. If I die, who’s going to take care of you?”
Without another word, Will Eaton follows his meathead friends into the freezing freaking lake, and I’m left shaking my head and watching them. It’s a yearly tradition for the senior hockey players to take a frozen plunge, and Will says I should be honored to witness it, but I don’t feel too honored. The guys gather together, shivering and laughing and splashing. There are nine of them, all equally idiotic and freezing and exuberant. Someone produces a bottle of vodka and they pass it around, taking a big swig, waiting for someone to decide they’ve had enough. The moonlight’s bright against the water and the ripples as the guys push each other and splash, shouting and laughing.
Other girls stand around, watching the guys, some of them yelling out. There are a few younger guys too, barred from joining in on the idiotic fun, trying to flirt with the girls, but it’s clear tonight is all about the senior boys. I stand apart from everyone, like I always do, trying to pretend like I’m comfortable, when really, I feel like I’m standing in that freezing cold lake too.
The guys don’t last long, which is typical for college bros. It’s just too cold, and while they want to pretend like they’re all a bunch of macho men, they’re still human. They come back out, shivering and laughing as they towel off and get dressed again. Will winks at me as he pulls on his pants while Mike tries to shove him over. The guys end up wrestling, arms locked around each other until a few other hockey players break it out. They’re all laughing like it’s the funniest thing ever, even though they look like idiots.
Will wasn’t always like this. Heck, he’s still not. When we’re alone, which is most of the time, he’s the sweetest and smartest guy I know. He always says that hockey is just a ticket to a better life, one far away from all the shit we went through in our past. I don’t argue with him, because I know it’s true, but I wish we had a better way.
He’s always been there for me, as far back as I can remember. We met soon after I was adopted by my mother’s cousin, an older woman named Eleanor. I didn’t know it at the time, but Eleanor’s actually absurdly rich, the last surviving member of the part of my family that wasn’t dirt poor and bitter about it. I was thirteen when I met Will. He grew up near Eleanor’s estate with his father and rotating cast of wicked stepmothers. We were practically inseparable all through high school, and it seemed obvious and natural that we’d end up going to college together. He was always good at hockey, but he took it to the next level when he was recruited for Notre Dame’s team. I got in with an academic scholarship and our friendship only got stronger.
Now though, graduation’s coming. His hockey season is over and I’m finishing up my final papers. We’re both trying to figure out what we’re going to do outside of the little oasis paradise that is Notre Dame, and although we’ve floated a lot of different plans, we just don’t know.
The only thing I’m sure of is that I don’t know how to live without Will. It’s just that simple. I’ve been relying on him for so long, and he knows everything about me. I have some memory problems and other health issues, stuff lingering from some trauma I went through when I was younger. He’s the only person that really gets it and know what happened to me, and he basically takes care of me and always has.
“Come on,” he says. “Party’s starting. Don’t want to be late, do we?”
I shrug a little. “I wouldn’t mind being late.”
He laughs a little bit and takes my hand. I feel a quick thrill run through me, but I know it’s meaningless. He’s always doing stuff like that: hugging me, holding my hand, brushing my hair from my face, even spooning me when we nap together. It’s the most intimate relationship I’ve ever had, except I’m pretty sure he looks at me like his kid sister.
“You always say that.” He squeezes my hand. “It’s our last few weeks here in paradise. We have to try and have fun, right?”
“I guess you’re right.”
“You’ll never be young and beautiful again, so enjoy yourself.”
I blush a little bit and look away. I don’t think I’m particularly pretty, but he’s always telling me how gorgeous I am. Guys hit on me art parties sometimes, and I’ve been asked out randomly, but I always say no. It’s really hard for me to get close to people after what happened, even all these years later.
Sometimes, I wonder what he sees in me. Poor, broken little Addie, abused by her parents when he was younger and scarred forever. Sometimes I think I’m a charity case for him, but I know that’s not true. He has his own demons that I help him with, even though it’s hard for me to picture out relationship as anything but one sided.
We head off across campus, the guys all joking and laughing and passing the bottle around. We pass the chapel and cut across the wide, empty lawn, angling toward the parking lot. The stadium’s off to our left and the library’s back a little bit past that. I can just make out Touchdown Jesus, his arms outspread.
“Gonna be a rager tonight, huh, Will?” JT says, coming up behind us.
Will grins at him. “Fuck yeah it is. But hockey parties are always fucking good.”
“This one, it’ll be the best.” JT looks at me. “You coming, Addie?”
I nod a little. “Yeah, I’m not flaking out this time.”
JT grins at me. He’s a decent guy, as far as these hockey jocks go. “Atta girl. Maybe you can save a dance for me.” He gives me a hopefully little grin.
I glance up at Will, my eyes wide. Will glares at JT. “Maybe some other time,” he says.
JT just laughs and shrugs. Everyone’s used to my relationship with Will. I know people talk and think it’s weird, but they don’t understand. I think I’d have a panic attack if someone forced me onto a tight, closed in dance floor, and I’m sick of having to come up with excuses. Will just scares people off for me these days.
“Forget about him,” Will says softly to me. “Just try and have fun, okay?”
“Okay,” I say. “I’m relaxing. Hey, maybe I’ll even grind with JT a little bit.”
He grins. “I would love to see that.”
“I can grind,” I say, although he knows it isn’t true. “I can grind real good.”
He laughs and bumps me with his hip. I laugh and pull his arm, and he stumbles against me. I hold onto his arm with my free hand and for a second, I can imagine we’re actually dating. I have this stupid fantasy like one a day pretty much, and ever time I have to remind myself that it’s definitely, absolutely, one hundred percent not real and never happening.
Will can do much better than a broken girl like me.
It really is the biggest party of the year, and I’m instantly so uncomfortable that it takes everything I have not to bolt right away. Will’s hand on mine is the only thing keeping me from freaking out.
I have a thing with tight spaces. I’ve been working on it in therapy, and I’ve actually made some huge strides. A few years ago, I would never in a million years have been able to be in a crowd, let alone in a packed house party. Now though, I want to have a panic attack, but I’m still here.
“Drink up,” Will says, handing me a red cup. It’s cheap watery beer, but it helps calm me down as I drink half the cup in one go.
He laughs a little bit. His hand leaves mine and for a second, I think I’m going to lose it.
“You’re good,” he says to me.
I take. A breath and let it out. “Yeah, I’m good.’
He nods and drinks his beer. I finish mine a few minutes later, and he gets me another one. When he gets back, a few hockey guys join our little party of two, and start joking about all the girls at the party.
I’m feeling better after a drink, and I even join in on the conversation. “Mike, I think you should hook up with Maureen,” I say.
He looks at me. “Why?” he asks.
I shrug. “You’re from Alabama, right? She looks like she could be your cousin.”
The guys all crack up, and even Mike smiles. I grin at them as they start ribbing each other again, though they’re all careful not to make fun of me. Will gives me a little smile and a wink. I can tell he’s worried I might flip, but I actually feel okay.
We join the beer pong table not long later. I stand off to the side as JT and Will win game after game. I have a few beers and actually enjoy myself. I end up having a long conversation with Rick’s girlfriend Emily about how disgusting the hockey house is, and how impossible it is to keep up with all the constant drama.
“You’d think these big, strong manly men wouldn’t be such little babies,” Emily says, making me laugh.
“Will pretends like he’s above it all,” I say, “but he complains just as much as the rest of them.”
“Ugh, Rick’s the same way. I mean, seriously guys, get it together. They’re obsessed with who’s on what line or whatever. I can’t even follow it half the time.”
“I gave up years ago,” I admit. “I go to the home games but I don’t really pay attention.”
She grins at me. “I don’t go to games at all.”
I laugh. “You’re kidding? Rick’s okay with that?”
“Sure, he doesn’t care.” She hesitates a second. “You’re not… dating Will, are you?”
I shake my head. “No, we’re just friends.”
“Okay, I mean, there are all these rumors. I’m sorry I even asked.”
I sigh. “I know the rumors. But no, we’re just friends.”
“Cool, right. Will’s a good guy. He’s a good friend.” I can tell she’s a little uncomfortable.
“He’s actually a total douche but what can you do.”
She grins at my joke and the awkward moment passes. We go back to making fun of the guys together, which was way more fun anyway.
After a few more minutes of that, more cheers erupt from the beer pong table. Will and JT just won another game, although JT’s not looking too hot. He stumbles against the wall a
nd laughs as Will straightens him, a little frown on his face. He catches my eye and beckons me over.
“Be right back,” I say to Emily, and head over to Will. It takes me a second to realize that JT is absolutely wasted.
“Too much vodka on the way over,” Will explains. “This fucker is toast.”
“Your mom’s toast,” JT says, and Will laughs, pushing him away. JT stumbles away from the table as two more guys line up.
“Wanna play?” Will asks me. “I need a new partner.”
“I’ve never played before,” I say.
“Come on, you know the rules. Throw the ball into the cup. Simple.”
“Fine,” I say. “But you’re carrying the team.’
He grins. “I already was.”