by Fiona Cole
Table of Contents
Part I
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Ninteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Part II
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Part III
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Epilogue
© 2017 by Fiona Cole
All rights reserved.
Cover Designer: Najla Qamber, Najla Qamber Designs, www.najlaqamberdesigns.com/
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, actual events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Created with Vellum
To anyone who has felt shame for what others don’t understand. Do what makes you happy and fuck the rest.
Table of Contents
Playlist
Part I
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Ninteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Part II
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Part III
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Epilogue
The End
Acknowledgments
Review
About Fiona Cole
Other books by Fiona Cole
Playlist
Music plays such an important role in my life. It keeps me calm and focused at times when I’m feeling out of control. It has saved me more times than I can count. So, it’s no surprise how much I love it and use it to inspire me when writing. Here is the playlist I leaned on when writing Shame Me Not.
Adele – Sweetest Devotion
Adele – I Miss You
A Great Big World & Christina Aguilera – Say Something
A Fine Frenzy – Near to You
James Arthur – Say You Won’t Let Go
Matt Nathanson – Bill Murray
One Direction – Ready to Run
Sam Smith – Like I Can
Taylor Swift – All Too Well
Imagine Dragons – Not Today
The Lumineers – Sleep on the Floor
Rose Cousins – If I Should Fall Behind
Secondhand Serenade – Fall for You
The Airborne Toxic Event – Sometime Around Midnight
High Valley – Make You Mine
Charlene Soraia – Where You Will Go
Wrabel – 11 Blocks
Ke$ha – The Harold Song
Ed Sheeran – Castle on the Hill
OneRepublic – Let’s Hurt Tonight
Emeli Sandé – Where I Sleep
Charlotte OC – Where It Stays
Kelly Clarkson – I Forgive You
Lady Gaga – The Cure
Florence + The Machine – You’ve Got the Love
Florence + The Machine – Cosmic Love
Florence + The Machine – Stand By Me
Alex Da Kid (ft. X Ambassadors, Elle King, & Wiz Khalifa) – Not Easy
AJR - Weak
Part I
Chapter One
Kevin
Ten Years Ago
My eyes locked in on her as soon as she walked in the door. Her long blond hair hung loose as she scanned the room. Her small breasts pressed against her sweater and I stared as only a sixteen-year-old boy could. I didn’t know who she was, but I wanted to.
“Oh, look. Our new neighbors are here,” my mom said from behind me. “Come on, Kevin. Help me and your dad welcome them.”
We shifted through all the people at our post-holiday party we threw, making our way to greet our new guests.
“Natasha, I’m so glad you could make it.” Mom addressed the older woman standing next to the girl who captured my attention. I assumed it was her mom since they both had matching blond hair and blue eyes. “This is my husband, Liam, and my son, Kevin.”
“Hi, so nice to meet you.” Dad reached his hand out to both women.
“Nice to meet you, too.” She shook his hand with a gentle hand. “This is my daughter, Anabelle.”
Anabelle. It fit her. She gave a small smile and shook my dad’s hand. Our parents fell into small talk about the weather and my dad’s drive back from the capital building, and I zoned out.
How could I focus on anything other than the girl pinning me in place with her grayish blue eyes?
They held no emotion. No friendliness, no irritation or anger. When I looked harder, I thought maybe I could see a hint of sadness. I wanted to figure out if I was right. To pull it from her and have her share it with me. Instead, I went for a small smile and a hand raise that was supposed to pass as a wave.
She huffed out a breath, almost a laugh, and her lips twitched. It wasn’t much; only one side quirked up. But it reached her eyes, transforming her face. She wasn’t beautiful in that overdone way like the Stepford daughters I was normally around, bu
t she was naturally stunning. Her lips were full, but the bottom seemed too big for the top one, and her nose was almost too wide for her face. But on her, it blended into a canvas I couldn’t look away from, especially when she licked her bottom lip. She wasn’t being seductive. Hell, she wasn’t even looking at me anymore. She had turned to focus on our parents talking, but she still drew me in.
I blinked a few times when I heard my mom say my name.
“Huh?” I glanced at the girl, Anabelle, to see her smile had grown. Probably laughing at what a fool I was making of myself.
“You guys will be going to the same school. She’s a sophomore too.” My mom turned to our new neighbors. “Kevin’ll have to show her around and introduce her to some friends. They’re such a good group of kids. We’ve known most of them since kindergarten.”
“Oh, how fantastic.” Anabelle’s mom turned and squeezed her shoulder. “See, sweetie. You’ll do great here. No need to worry about a new school and not fitting in.”
I looked back at Anabelle just in time to see her cringe at her mom’s comment. I couldn’t imagine her not fitting in. She had an aura, something relaxed and cool, and the guys would be tripping over each other to get to know her.
“Sure. I’ll show you around. It’s a cool place and everyone is really nice,” I tried to reassure her. She only nodded when my mom cut in.
“Natasha, I have to ask where you got the dress. It’s gorgeous.”
“Oh, this old thing.” She waved her hand before resting it on Anabelle’s shoulder. “I got it a few years ago from a boutique in Nashville. Ana dug it out of the back of the closet when she was picking out my outfit for tonight. She always helps me out with my clothes. Heck, with everything.”
My mom laughed at the joke, but I saw the way Ana’s shoulders tensed and how she forced a smile. I had to fight taking her tight shoulders in my hands to soothe her. After only ten minutes, I wanted to take on her stress. Instead, I offered a friendly smile, hoping it . . . I don’t know. Just hoping it helped.
“Nashville?” Dad asked. “Is that where you’re moving from?”
“Yes. My husband and I recently separated and just us girls are moving here to be closer to friends.”
Ana’s jaw flexed and her lips pinched leading me to assume it wasn’t the smoothest of separations.
“Well, we’re happy to have you here,” my mom replied easily, never missing a beat from her years as the perfect politician’s wife. “Kevin, why don’t you two grab a drink and then head up to the bonus room,” my mom suggested before turning back to Ana’s mom. “Unfortunately, it’s a mature neighborhood and not a lot of kids to keep each other company. Although his friends don’t live too far away. It will be nice to have someone his age living so close by.”
I nodded toward the kitchen for Ana to follow me. We grabbed some Cokes from the fridge and headed upstairs.
“You know how to play any PlayStation games?” I asked, trying to break the awkward silence. I didn’t know if she was nervous or not much of a talker one on one, but I was determined to set her at ease.
“Yeah, a few.” She peeked over my shoulder at some of the games lying around. “I like Twisted Metal.”
“Good choice.” I began loading the game while she checked out the room.
“So . . .” She paused, hesitating over her next words. “You have any liquor?”
“You drink?” I asked, a little shocked. I didn’t know why I was surprised. It’s not like I didn’t know plenty of people at school who drank. Maybe it was the way she asked, like it tumbled off her tongue awkwardly rather than a natural question.
“Don’t all the kids in Catholic school drink and get crazy?” She looked over her shoulder, not quite meeting my eyes.
I couldn’t help but laugh. She wasn’t far off. Some fit the stereotype of being rich and bored and acting out. “Not as many as you might think.”
Her shoulders dropped as she exhaled. “Yeah, I don’t really either.” When I didn’t say anything to fill the stretch of silence, she continued. “Sorry. I’m really horrible at small talk.” She shrugged and let out a nervous laugh. “I tend to panic, say stupid things, and then immediately regret them.”
“No worries. I’m sure I say stupid things even when I have time to think them through.” She finally turned all the way around to face me, and for the first time she gave me what seemed to be a genuine smile. Her eyes squinted when the apples of her cheeks rose. And the lips that seemed too big earlier fit perfectly on her face. I shook my head so I wouldn’t stare too long. “Let me get the game set up. Then we can just trash talk each other.”
We both laughed and she turned to look at the pictures on the wall.
“You play soccer?” she asked, indicating my many team photos.
“Yeah, since I was little. I’m on varsity this year.”
“Cool.” She nodded her head. “I played when I was younger. For quite a few years actually.”
“Yeah? Why not anymore?”
“I sucked.” She laughed. “Like, not enough to stop playing. But enough that I only played for fun.”
“Nothing wrong with that.” I held out the controller, and she claimed it before sitting on the couch, leaving a cushion between us. “Do you do anything else?”
“I dance.” She paused before glancing at me from the corner of her eye. “But you already knew that.”
My hand moved to rub the back of my neck. “Yeah . . . sorry about that.” I may or may not have glimpsed her shadowy figure dancing behind her open blinds. Her head had turned to catch me. She’d stared for a minute before slowly closing the blinds.
“No problem. It wasn’t like I was naked. That would have placed you firmly in the creeper category.”
“I do my best to stay out of that one,” I said firmly. “So, do you take classes or anything?”
“I haven’t really looked for any studios past a Google search. I danced back home when I was younger and then danced for my high school team.”
“St. Agatha’s has a dance team. You should try out next year.”
“Yeah. Maybe,” she agreed noncommittally. “You ready to get your ass kicked?”
I rolled my eyes. “Puh-lease. I’m going to wipe the floor with you.”
***
After the party quieted down and Ana left, I’d gone straight to bed. I may have left my blinds open in hopes of getting a peek at her dancing again, but hers remained firmly closed. So instead, I lay back on my pillow and replayed the night in my head. We’d only just met, but there was something about her that made me feel comfortable enough to just be me with her. Even the friends I’d had since kindergarten made me feel like I always had to be “on.” Always had to be funny and say the right thing, wear the right clothes. For some reason, I imagined that with Ana, I’d be able to make a total fool out of myself and wear some raggedy old clothes and she would still laugh and treat me no differently.
My phone dinged from my nightstand. Squinting against the jarring brightness, I read the message.
Gwen: How was the party? Lame? Missed U 2nite. <3
Gwen. I wondered how my girlfriend would feel about the new neighbor; how she would feel about me having Ana alone upstairs all night. Or how she would feel about all these thoughts and concerns I had for a girl I’d just met.
As much as I tried to focus on Gwen, it was thoughts of Ana that followed me into an uneasy sleep.
Chapter Two
Ana
First day of school jitters didn’t even scratch the surface of the pure nausea that quaked my stomach. I pushed through the doors after I hiked my backpack higher on my shoulder. The sway of the plaid skirt around my knees gave me something to focus on while I walked in.
Catholic school.
I had to admit I never thought I would be there. All my life I’d attended the same public school system with friends that would come and go. With as many students as we had per class, friendship circles changed all the time. Hell, we were set to grad
uate with almost a thousand students.
St. Agatha didn’t even have a thousand students in the entire high school. It didn’t make the halls any less loud. I tried to ignore the conversations of what everyone did over their Christmas break. Wondered if anyone would ask me about mine. What would I say?
Oh, it was nothing. My parents who’d been married for twenty years finalized their divorce and my mom decided to move closer to home, despite no longer having any family here, and uproot my life. But don’t worry, my dad’s a lawyer who makes a lot of money and is alleviating some of his guilt by paying for me to go to a private school. He wants me to have the best education and all that.
I scoffed, approaching my assigned locker. Best education, my ass. He just wanted to make sure he threw enough money at me to make himself feel like he was parenting enough, despite being five hours away in Tennessee. A fire burned in my gut whenever I thought about how he didn’t even fight to keep me close by.
Your mother will be more available to take care of you. She’ll have her friends. And don’t worry sweetie, we’ll find time to see each other often. I’m not letting you go. You’re looking at it wrong. I would never let you go. Things just didn’t work out with your mother and me. She needs more attention than I can give her. And since I’ve made partner, I just don’t have what it takes anymore. It doesn’t change how much I love you. Your mother just needs someone who can help her through life more than I can.