by C Bradley
“Un-fucking-believable,” he scoffs, before exiting the room.
My eyes fall back on Hannah, taking in her beauty. Even through the trauma she’s clearly endured, she is still the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.
“Hannah, baby. I’m here. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here sooner. I was in the meeting. Nina should have had them pull me out of it. I would have been here.” My head falls forward, gently landing on her hand.
“Brody.” Hannah croaks, sliding her fingers through my hair, before she continues, “How’d the meeting go?”
A smile tugs the corner of my mouth, “Hannah, you were in an accident and are in the hospital, and you’re asking me how my meeting went? Fuck the meeting. My heart dropped, when I got the cryptic messages from everyone telling me to get to the hospital. I can always get another job, but I can’t get another you.” Raising her hand, I press a gentle kiss over the bruised-up surface.
Tears begin to fall down her cheeks, “Brody, I need to tell you somethings. The necklace you gave me... it’s broken and barely hanging together.”
“Baby, don’t cry. I can have the necklace replaced. What else is there?”
“I’m sorry. I’m such a mess. I...” Her voice trails off, as Micah reappears.
“Times up, Lucas. There are other people who have been here all damn day that wish to see her.” He takes residence in the seat he had claimed prior.
Pushing my seat back, I rise and make my way around the bed next to Micah, “You clearly still have a fucking problem with me, so spit it out, Micah. I’m tired of this holier than thou bullshit of yours.”
“We both know you’re no good for her, Lucas. You’re going to fucking ruin her. Just leave and save me the trouble of picking up the pieces later.” He counters, anger brewing in his eyes.
Before my brain has a chance to process the remainder of his sentence, my hands are already on his chest, shoving him back against the wall.
“Pull your fucking head out of your ass, Micah. You can’t stand the fact that Hannah needs someone other than you. I love her, and she loves me. Either deal with it, or you fucking leave because I’m not going anywhere.” The incessant beeping of the machines connected to Hannah interrupt the petty shit that makes me want to end Micah.
My fists unclench, causing the material of Micah’s shirt to fall back into place, and I quickly take my place back at Hannah’s bedside.
“Hannah? Baby, talk to me. What’s wrong?”
Before she is able to answer, I feel the hands of a nurse gently pushing me aside, so she can tend to the machines.
“What’s going on in here? Whatever it is, you’re causing the patient more stress. One of you, OUT!” She demands and points towards the door.
“Which one of you is the father? You can stay, and the other one needs to leave. Or is that what you’re fighting about? I don’t care either way. I just know someone needs to leave this room right now.”
The Father? The father of what? My eyes dart back to Hannah only to find her eyes bouncing from my expression to Micah’s.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me. You knocked her up, Lucas? Jesus Christ, haven’t you heard of a rubber?”
His words confirm that he isn’t the father, which put the nurse into motion, quickly shoving him out of the room, closing the door behind her.
“Hannah...” I drop back down into the seat beside the bed. “Baby, are you pregnant?” I ask, as I fight with my emotions on whether to smile or cry. Hell, maybe I’ll do both.
Her eyes lock on mine, as she slowly nods and runs her words together, as she rushes out the explanation of the baby bomb the nurse just detonated. “I’m so sorry you found out this way. I wanted to tell you. I found out today at the doctor, and I was planning on telling you at dinner.”
Unable to hide my smile, my chest swells with happiness. Every moment in my life, has led up to this one right now. Reaching my hand over and gently placing it over the blankets draped across her abdomen, my fingers splay out and tears begin to fall down my face. I can’t hide my happiness, nor can I hide the love I have for this woman. She’s given me everything I could ever ask for. She’s brought out a side in me I never knew existed. The side my mother always told me would be apparent, when I met the one just as she did with my father.
“Hannah, don’t apologize. This isn’t your fault.” Leaning down, I gently press my lips against hers, tasting the salt from the tears streaming down her face.
“Baby, can I see your necklace?” She nods and points to the tiny plastic bag on the bedside table. Removing the plastic, I hold the necklace between my thumb and pointer finger and slam it against the table, causing it to shatter entirely.
“Brody! What the hell are you doing?” Hannah panics and lunges for the table, but she fails to connect.
“I hid my mother’s wedding ring in that necklace. I knew I wanted to propose to you, before I even gave it to you, but I wanted to make certain that the time was right, and that I’d always have the necklace within arm’s length. It would have been very difficult carrying around a ring box everywhere we went, so I had the ring hidden inside of your necklace.” I explain and smile so wide it hurts.
The tears continue to stream down her face, and she covers her mouth with her hands.
“Hannah Grace, you’ve already made me the happiest man alive by loving me, moving in with me, and now you’re carrying my child. Would you do me the honor of being my wife? Marry me, Hannah.” I conclude my proposal by holding up the oval shaped blue sapphire ring, surrounded by a band of diamonds firmly nestled in a platinum setting.
“YES!” She shouts. “Absolutely, yes.”
And everything in my world now feels complete.
As I finish up a work-related e-mail, Hannah strolls into the bedroom wrapped in a towel, hair dripping, and skin still damp from her bath with bruises still marring her skin.
“Hey gorgeous,” I greet her, and my smile widens the further she moves into the room.
I move my laptop from my lap to the nightstand beside me, just as Hannah begins to sink down onto my lap, wrapping an arm around my neck.
“Hey, you,” she replies, before placing feather like kisses along my face.
“Whatcha’ doing?” She playfully inquires, and her lips linger along mine, after the words leave them. She’s slowly getting back to herself since the accident. Aside from the few night terrors, she’s bouncing back considerably fast.
“Work,” I answer, smiling against her lips, before she pulls her head back, letting out a loud sigh with a quick eye roll.
“Brody, it’s Saturday. No working on Saturday. We made a deal.”
“I know, and I’m sorry baby. I’m just trying to catch up on some things from the few days I was out this past week. Nina called for an update, while you were bathing, and she mentioned something to me that I completely forgot about. Throw your robe on, I’d like to show you.” I quickly shift her from my lap to the bed, before helping her to her feet not skipping a beat.
“Brody Lucas, this better not be another hidden surprise. I think we’re at our limit for surprises this year.” Smiling, she places her hand over her abdomen and splays her fingers before rubbing. It’s a move I have noticed her doing, since she finally let it sink in that I wasn’t running away, and that I wasn’t letting her get away.
My heart feels like it’s swelling in my chest. I didn’t know it was possible to be this happy. I’ve always heard about this kind of love. I’ve watched people around me experience it, but I never thought it was for me, until I met Hannah. She is the woman of my dreams and my fiancé who just so happens to be carrying my child.
“I want to see my baby,” I murmur, my eyes falling to her stomach, where she absent-mindedly holds her not even remotely visible bump.
“Brody, there’s nothing there yet you, crazy man!” Hannah giggles, as she reaches for the robe.
Grabbing her robe from the back of the bedroom door, before she has a chance to grasp it, I
help her into it.
“Now, come with me.” I plant a kiss on her forehead, before taking her hand, leading her from our bedroom suite.
Making our way down the hall, we pass my childhood bedroom and come to a halt at the door at the end of the hallway. Opening the door, I flip the switch on the wall, and the dim lights flicker on, revealing an ascending stairwell. I lead her up the stairwell and stop at the top, reaching for a switch on the wall. The fluorescent lights come to life, revealing a walk-up attic packed wall to wall with boxes and furniture. Years of memories of my family, all contained in an 18-foot by 18-foot space.
Hannah’s eyes roam around the room, as we make our way through a narrow pathway, stopping in front of a small wooden rocking horse. She continues to look around, and with a tug to her hand, she is standing in front of me, as I point to an off-white handmade round crib.
“Hannah, my dad built this crib, and my mother used it with Nina and me. We can touch it up and alter it however you want for our baby.” After explaining its history, I rest my chin on her shoulder, as I wrap my hands around her waist, linking them over her abdomen.
“Brody, I love it. It’s perfect.”
A sparkle from her cheek catches my eye, and I turn my head, wiping the tears from her cheek.
“Hannah, don’t cry. We’ve had enough tears.”
“Brody, I’m just so...so happy. These hormones are something crazy.”
“I know that I can be a handful sometimes, but it’s about to amplify,” she steps back, allowing her cocoa brown eyes to meet mine.
“You are a handful, but that’s why I’ve got two hands.” A smile that I’m certain matches mine, graces her lips, and even in this dimly lit attic, she is as beautiful as ever.
“Brody, you’re a good one. You know that, right?”
“I will strive every damn day to be better for you and our little one.”
She leans in, allowing me to greedily claim her mouth with soft supple licks across her plump, pink lips that are still swollen and salty from the tears she cried earlier.
I’ve always felt the need to protect Hannah. I’m not sure if it was her klutzy nature or her awful childhood, but now that feeling seems to have intensified. More than likely, it’s because she is carrying my child.
Pulling away, her eyes meet mine. I can tell she is searching for something, but I don’t know what, and sometimes I wish I could read her beautiful mind.
“I love you, Brody.”
My smile is unavoidable, when those three words leave her lips.
Every. Single. Time.
“One-four-three, beautiful.”
Confusion masks her features, and her mouth parts slightly, before the sound of her voice breaks the silence, “One-four...what?”
“One-four-three. Those three numbers means I love you,” I explain, while brushing her hair back from her face. She leans forward placing a light kiss on my lips, and when I pull back, the look she is giving me makes me feel like the luckiest man in the world.
“And I will one-four-three you forever, baby.”
Leaving Home
Part 1, an excerpt from a military novel: Coming Home
Alyvia Paige
COPYRIGHT© 2018
Leaving Home Copyright © 2018 Alyvia Paige
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
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, or actual events is purely coincidental. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.
This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people.
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Published by Alyvia Paige
Editing: Jennifer Van Wyk – JaVa Editing
Formatting: Formatting Done Wright
She’s my best friend’s little sister.
I’d just enlisted in the United States Army.
The two reasons that I should stay away are the very same reasons why I can’t.
The opinionated, headstrong, gorgeous woman captured my attention when she refused to back down from a challenge. I kissed her on the tarmac and murmured a quick goodbye.
All choices have consequences, it’s how we handle them that morph the challenges we’ll face.
The question is, will Teagan choose to back off of our newly formed relationship or will she rise to the challenge with me?
Chapter 1: Teagan
“Ben you promised!” I shout and stomp my foot like a five-year-old in the midst of a tantrum.
“Teag, I already told you Tucker is going so you’ll have the next best thing to me. He’ll also make sure to keep the douchebags at bay.”
“It’s just… Ben, it’s our last year for Fright Night over Atlanta. Six Flags in the pitch black of night is a tradition!” My frustration turns to sadness as it hits me all over again. I’m graduating in a few months and my big brother decided it would be a great plan to enlist in the United States Army. At least he doesn’t have to ship out to basic for a few months.
“Teagan, it’s fine. We’ve got time,” he soothes. “Now dry your eyes and get ready.” He shoots me a wink and smiles as his phone starts ringing.
“Love you!” I call after him as I make my way to my room. Once I’m in my room, I move to the makeup desk I have set up. Mom and dad purchased it as a study desk, but I have clearly made better use of it. I have everything organized; each item in its place as if the process of makeup application only works if everything is in its exact order. I sit with my brushes to the right, primer, concealer, and foundation at the helm and to the left is my mascara, blush, and eye shadow. Taking a deep breath and wiping my face dry, I get to work applying my Bare Minerals products, giving myself a natural look for the night. My overall made up face is still very much me, I’m not a transforming application kind of girl. I like to feel as if there is nothing there and look quite familiar to the me without makeup.
My phone pings just as I cap the mascara.
Tucker: Hey. Wanna grab some dinner before the bus leaves?
Me: Tuck, you don’t have to go. I don’t want you strong-armed to be Ben’s stand in.
Tucker: I’ll never be strong armed by Ben. I’m stronger. Now, dinner?
Me: I’ll be ready in 20
Tucker: Just looked into your window, you’re done with your makeup. I’ll be there in 10.
The man staring at me from his bedroom window of his childhood home is none other than Tucker Elliot Hoyt. Ben’s best friend, the golden boy both internally and externally and stands at least six feet. His athletic build and smoldering eyes, not that he uses them to his advantage, at least not with me. He doesn’t see me that way. He’s the sweetest guy I’ve ever known, even in comparison to Ben, and he’s an amazing sibling. I’d crushed on Tucker since we were all kids. Nevertheless, I’ve given up on that fantasy when Tucker left for college two years ago. He has options I don’t dare myself to compare to. But I have to say, he’s always coming to the rescue. Even living two hours away at college.
“Teagan,” my mother’s voice echoes off the stairwell into my room. “Tuck is here.”
Grabbing my jacket from the hall closet, I smile up at Tucker when I see his oversized hoodie over a plaid flannel and jeans. October in Alabama is beautiful but the temperature can drop at night, and then add in riding rides, it gets chilly.
Fine.
I’m being dramatic.
&nb
sp; It’s like 60 degrees, but that’s cold.
“I’m ready.” I smile brightly. “Bye parentals, don’t wait up.” I call out over my shoulder and push Tucker’s tushy to move out the door.
“In a hurry, smalls?” Tucker’s smile is teasing as he rounds his lifted truck. “So, I was thinking Figo. Is that alright?”
“Sure, though I’m not that hungry.”
Tucker glances at me then returns his gaze to the road. “You’ll eat. It’s pasta; you’ve never not eaten pasta.”
“No Dad, not if I’m not hungry,” I sass.
“I ain’t your daddy, but you are skinnier than you were just a few months ago when I left for school. You need food.”
I blush at his acknowledgment and turn my attention out the window. Warmth settles over me as Tucker’s hand imprints on my thigh.
“Teag, you alright?” He chuckles; the jerk actually enjoys watching my discomfort.
“Uh, yeah. I’m uhm, I’m fine,” I stammer and refuse to make eye contact.
“You need me to flip the air on? You’re looking a bit flushed.” His playful tone catches my attention and earns him a glare.
“Stop messing with me, dick.” I laugh and push his hand off my leg.
“But it’s so easy, and I’m pretty sure you like it.”
“Ugh, just drive Romeo.” I laugh at his scoff and then sigh as my body temperature begins to lower.
“Let’s go, Juliette,” Tucker singsongs as he holds the door open to the fast stop Italian and Panini press restaurant.
“Jerk.”
We continue our playful banter back and forth in line as we order and while devouring our delectable carbs. Just another day. Tucker may be best friends with my brother, but we’re close too. Sometimes, heart achingly close. I’ve trained my mind to not want Tucker Elliot Hoyt, but my heart sometimes forgets. A lot.
And God, he makes it so hard to remember it’s a bad idea.