Exposed: An Anthology

by Brooke Cumberland

  “I don’t want you to promise me anything you can’t give, Zane.” There were tears in my eyes. “I just want you to give us a fair chance.”

  “Lucky, I haven’t dated in years. I think that shows you I’m all about giving us a fair chance.”

  “You haven’t dated in years?” I laughed and looked at him like he was crazy.

  “Those girls I took to the diner, well, you were right. They were all Braydon’s exes. I went out with all of them because I was trying to get information out of them. I wanted them to incriminate Braydon as a drug dealer so I could have enough proof to get him prosecuted.”

  “Oh.”

  “They weren’t real dates, Lucky. They meant nothing to me. The only girl I could look at every time I went to Lou’s was you.”

  “But who was the girl that broke your heart?” I asked with my heart in my mouth.

  “The girl who broke my heart?” He frowned.

  “The one you told me about the other day.”

  “Wait, oh, ha ha ha.” He started laughing. “That was Lily Chen, she was my first grade girlfriend. I thought she was going to be my ninja warrior princess, but all she really cared about were Barbies and Legos. She dumped me when I refused to play Barbie goes shopping. She broke my heart for a week, and after that, I realized that love wasn’t worth it.”

  “Oh, Zane.” I laughed and shook my head.

  “I’m fucked up, Lucky. I’m really fucked up. I don’t know that I ever really got over my mother leaving us behind.”

  “Oh, Zane.” I brought him in close to me. “No child can comprehend and get over their mother leaving. No adult either. You’re not fucked up, my dear. You’re hurt, broken, and rejected. But she didn’t leave you, Zane. I swear to God she didn’t leave you because you were unlovable. She didn’t leave you because she didn’t want you. I know there had to have been other reasons. There is no way that she left because of you.”

  “I don’t understand why she didn’t love me enough to stay. I don’t understand why she didn’t deal with my father for me and for Noah. Why didn’t she love us enough to try and work out something? She just left us, Lucky. I can’t get over that. I don’t know why I was so unlovable. It was just me and Noah.” Zane sobbed in my arms. “It was me and Noah, and I held it together for him. I wanted to be strong for him. It was him and me against the world and we could do anything. But then he went and got his heart broken and he couldn’t cope. He couldn’t cope and there was nothing I could do to fix him. There was nothing I could say to make it all right, and I lost him. I lost him just like that. It was him and me against the world, and he defected. He moved to Braydon’s and I never saw him alive again.”

  “I’m so sorry, Zane.” I kissed his forehead and kept him close to me. “But it’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known.”

  “Braydon told me that Noah thought he could fly. One second they were standing there drinking on a rooftop, and before he knew it, Noah was running and jumping off the roof, shouting out Angelique’s name. Braydon didn’t even have time to react. He was fucked up on some drugs as well, and by the time he realized what was happening, Noah had jumped off the building.”

  “I can’t believe I ever thought Braydon was a nice guy.” I sighed.

  “He plays a good game. He’s an actor, remember?”

  “He lost it today, though. I bet he thought I already knew what he had done.”

  “What do you mean, he lost it?” Zane pulled away from me and pushed my shoulders back and looked into my face. “Did he hurt you, Lucky? God help me, but I will kill him if he hurt you in any way.”

  “No, no. He didn’t do anything to me. I’m okay.”

  “Please tell me you won’t see him again, Lucky,” Zane pleaded with me.

  “I won’t see him again. Trust me. He’s not the sort of guy I want to be friends with.”

  “So, are we good?” Zane stood up and pulled me up with him. “Are we going to give this thing a real try?”

  “Are you going to go on any more fake dates?” I bit my lip. “I understand why you did, but I don’t know if I could take it if you were still going out with other girls.”

  “I don’t want to see anyone but you, Lucky.”

  “So we just continue as we were?” I held my breath, unsure as to what his reply would be.

  “When we were on the plane, I told you that I never wanted to fall in love. I told you I could never be the one to give you that happily-ever-after. And I still don’t know if I can be your everything. I don’t know if I can be the man that you want me to be. But I sure want to try. Lucky Starr Morgan, I’m asking if I can be your last boyfriend?”

  “You want to be my last boyfriend?” I gasped in shock. “Do you know what you’re saying?”

  “It’s hard for me to say the words, Lucky, I’m not used to these feelings and I’m not used to wanting more from a relationship. But yes, I know what I’m saying. I want to be that person for you.”

  “You want to be my last boyfriend?” I laughed, deliriously happy. “I don’t think I know what to say.”

  “Say yes.” He laughed. “Say yes, and let me take you upstairs so I can rip off your clothes and do to you what I’ve been wanting to do for the last twenty-four hours.”

  “Zane!” I giggled. “You’re too much.”

  “We have to remember a condom tonight, though.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “I take it you’re not on the pill, right?”

  “ No, I’m not on it.”

  “That’s what I thought.” He grabbed my hands. “You know there’s a possibility that you’re pregnant, right?”

  “What?” I frowned. “How?”

  “The bathroom.”

  “Oh.” I flushed at the memory. Protection had been the last thing on my mind. “Oh, my. I didn’t even think about it.”

  “I want you to know that I’m here for you, Lucky. Whatever happens. I want you to know that I’m in this with you all the way.”

  “Oh, Zane. I love you.” I couldn’t hold it in any more. “I really love you. I know it’s not politically correct for me to say it before you, and I know we haven’t known each other for that long, but I love you so much, Zane. I don’t want to live without you. I don’t want to be without you.”

  Zane’s eyes glazed with unshed tears, and he brought me towards him and kissed me so tenderly that I thought that I was going to cry. “I love you, too, Lucky. I love you so much that words cannot adequately describe all the feelings in my heart. My heart is so full that it feels like it is about to break.”

  “Oh, Zane.” My breath caught and I felt like my heart was going to burst with happiness. This moment didn’t feel like it was real. I couldn’t believe that I was hearing the words that I had waited my whole life for.

  “Give me your hand, Lucky. I want you to feel my heart. This feeling, this heartbeat you feel beneath your fingers is because of you. It’s for you. Everything that I am and everything that I want to be, from this moment on, is because of you.” Zane’s voice broke and he shook his head as if he was as amazed as I was to hear the words coming out of his mouth. “I don’t care what happens any more. I’m not scared of what’s going to happen. I don’t fear us falling out of love. None of that is as important as what we feel in the here and now. And right now, I want you to know that you are everything to me. My heart is your heart to do with what you will. All I ask is that you hold it carefully.”

  “I will, my love, I will.” I caressed his face. “I will hold your heart as delicately as I’ve held my own.”

  “This is it, isn’t it, Lucky?” His voice was in awe. “We’re the real deal.”

  “I think I’ve finally found my last boyfriend.” I laughed and as we melted into each other with a kiss, I knew in my heart that he was my one and only. Without him, there would be no me. I wanted to stop time so we could be in this moment of love and wonder forever.

  About the Author

  J. S. Cooper is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling au
thor. She is a true romantic that is in love with love. The J. S. stands for Jaimie Suzi. She just thought J. S. sounded cooler! J. S. was born in London, England and moved to the States at age 17. She studied history in college and then went to law school and then decided to follow her writing dreams. J. S. writes 'New Adult' contemporary romance books because that is what she also loves to read.

  Find J.S.: https://www.facebook.com/J.S.Cooperauthor.

  If you wish to get in contact, please email her at Jscooperauthor@gmail.com.

  Books by J.S.

  Everlasting Sin

  Scarred

  Healed

  The Last Boyfriend—Sequel now available!

  The Last Husband

  Before Lucky

  The Other Side of Love

  Zane & Lucky’s First Christmas

  Crazy Beautiful Love

  The Ex Games 1, 2 and 3

  The Private Club 1, 2 and 3

  After the Ex Games

  Upcoming books:

  Finding My Prince Charming, If Only Once (The Martelli Brothers), Everlasting Sin, The Rebel Next Door and Hot Prof.

  Spark

  by Brooke Cumberland

  When your past controls your future, how do you move forward?

  Velaney Wills knows about that all too well. Weak, powerless, and fearing the one person who has hurt her the most...can she overcome the barriers to move forward? Being saved by a muscled Godsend was never on her agenda, but when firefighter, Eric Reilley comes into her life unexpectedly, everything changes.

  Velaney has never felt loved or cared for, and her past prevents her from letting anyone in. Eric manages to break down her walls--despite the repercussions that come for them afterwards.

  They have an undeniable spark--something she has never felt before, but will it be enough? Can love overcome all obstacles?

  Can they save each other to protect their love or will her past shatter everything she never knew she needed...?

  **Spark is for mature audiences only--strong language, explicit sexual content, and sexual abuse are apparent.**

  Chapter One

  I jolt from my sleep, smelling a smoldering aroma throughout my apartment. I feel distraught, heavy, and even dizzy. Where the hell am I? A loud, ear-piercing sound comes from the hallway, which I can only assume is a smoke detector. Oh crap, now what did Carissa burn?

  Carissa Wright, my roommate and best friend. I love the woman, but she can’t cook to save her life. I ignore the horrific noise, and fall back asleep. She could burn water if it were possible.

  My eyes get heavier, and I start to slip away. I begin to gasp for air, as my breathing is no longer controlled. I heave as I try to inhale, but only smoke enters.

  My head is lifted, but it feels so heavy I can’t even move it. My body is airborne, and I feel as if I’m floating. I’m not. Someone lifts me up, takes me from the comforts of my warm bed, and carries me out of my room.

  “Ma’am? Can you hear me?” A muffled voice that I hear in one ear asks me. I nod lazily. At least I think I nod. My arms and legs feel so heavy I can’t even believe this person can lift me. “What’s your name?” he asks again, carrying me through the living room. I inhale the smoke, coughing it up as it hits my lungs.

  “Velaney,” I whisper, hoping it’s loud enough for him to hear. My hair falls loosely behind my head, and my brown locks wrap around a hard rock bicep. He’s in a t-shirt, and I notice because my neck is resting on his bare arm. It’s rock hard and chiseled solid.

  “Velaney, I’m Eric,” I hear him say as his tongue wraps around my name so sweetly that if I weren’t already lying in his arms, I’d pass out from the very sound of it. His southern accent is ridiculously charming. “I’m going to place this oxygen mask over you.” I nod, and he places it over my face. I inhale in as deep as I can.

  The smoke thickens and I squeeze my eyes shut holding on to him as tight as I can. My grip is so strong I wonder if I’m hurting him, but his muscles are so fine and curved that I highly doubt it. I let him carry me out my apartment door, and as we reach the hallway, I notice the smell getting stronger. Small flakes, ashes, are falling on my bare skin and in my hair. The smell is revolting, heavy, and almost makes me choke. I wonder how he can stand the smell, and if he’s done this before.

  I lower the mask for a split second and ask, “Do you know where my roommate is?” I barely get the words out as I cough my way through them. My lungs do not approve of this. I’ve never smoked a day in my life, and now they were getting their little butts kicked.

  “She’s outside already, don’t worry, Velaney. I have you.” His voice is so calm and soothing, yet I’m panicking at the fact that my apartment complex is on fire. I’m suddenly aware that I’m not in my typical nightwear as I brush my fingers along my stomach to feel lace. Oh god. Tuesday is laundry night, usually. I skipped a few weeks working extra shifts at the bar. I was out of my usual yoga stretch pants, and all that was left was a lacy nighty I got as a gift from my ex-boyfriend. I stashed it in the bottom of my drawer after we broke up, but tonight of all nights is when I wear it. Face palm.

  I wonder if he notices. Of course, he does. The damn thing barely brushes my butt cheeks, and my smooth legs are wrapped up in his arms.

  He continues carrying me down five floors of stairs. He doesn’t appear out of breath, or even act as if I’m too heavy. At five foot six inches, I weigh a mere one hundred thirty pounds, but most of it is toned muscle from my religious workouts.

  “Laney!” I hear Carissa’s voice scream as we walk outside. The cold air hits me hard on the face as the streets of Boston are crowding with loud sirens and huge fire trucks. The streetlights are still on, and I notice the full moon directly above us.

  Eric places me on my feet. I whip the mask off and run barefoot to where Carissa and the rest of my neighbors are standing.

  “What the hell happened?” I ask, wrapping my arms around her neck. She’s in tears. I do a once over making sure she’s all right. I notice she’s in booty shorts and a tank top. I wrap my arms around my body trying to cover the fact that eighty percent of my skin is bare.

  “Ms. Oakley left a candle burning in her kitchen next to a god damned towel!” she yells over the mass chaos. “The fucking thing goes up in flames! By the time I went to find help, a man—a hot man, I may add, was all ready on our floor looking to help, so I ran down the stairs as fast as I could.” She looks down at her feet, and I realize neither of us are wearing shoes.

  A man comes up behind the both of us and wraps us in a heated cloth blanket.

  “Thank you,” I mumble, not even glancing in his direction. I’m so distraught and upset that I can’t even remember the man’s name that saved me.

  “Is he a firefighter?” I ask as I turn in closer to her.

  “Who?” She looks up.

  “The guy you said rescued me. He wasn’t wearing the uniform.”

  “That one over there?” She nods her head toward a tall, well-built man who resembles a firefighter. I see an oxygen tank and mask in his hand. “He’s wearing a Boston Fire Department shirt.”

  “I don’t remember his name. He told me though.”

  “Go ask him,” she says, smiling.

  “Oh, right. I’ll just walk my half-naked butt right on over there and say ‘Hey thanks for saving me. What’s your name again?’ Because that won’t sound pathetic or anything,” I say sarcastically, getting an eye roll from Carissa.

  “Well, you should at least thank him, Lane. I mean, seriously. Look at that fucking body!” Carissa tilts her head at him, enjoying the view. She has absolutely no regard for language. Or class for that matter. We are complete polar opposites, and if our moms didn’t meet giving birth in the hospital, we’d probably never be friends.

  “I will. Just not right now.” I want to, but the moment just doesn’t seem right. He wasn’t in uniform, but he was speaking to someone on his radio.

  “Ladies,” an older gentleman approaches us. “We have s
ecured a nearby shelter for you all. They have food, clothes, blankets, and anything else you’ll need.” He’s sweet. He reminds me of my grandfather with his salt and pepper hair.

  “Thank you!” We follow him to the shuttle and wait until everyone is seated. Our floor was the only one affected, so most of the residents are going back in since the fire is out.

  We arrive at the shelter by sunrise. The air warms up slightly, and I’m no longer shivering. The goose bumps up and down my arms and legs are still present, but that’s mostly due to my anxiety that is in full-blown mode.

  “Sleep with me.” Carissa crawls in the twin bed with me, knowing that I need her. She’s the strong-willed one, the one that always speaks up, and has the loudest mouth in Boston.

  As I fall asleep, I think about running.

  I run.

  I mean, I run a lot. I miss my Nike’s right now. Lacy nighty or not, I’d run right now if I could. The Boston air at five in the morning is possibly the best air in the world. It’s right when night meets day and their paths cross for a moment where the moon and sun are both in the sky. Half the sky still blue, and the other half filled with oranges and reds. The more I run, the more I’m free. The faster I run, the more my past is behind me. Way, way behind.

  ***

  “Lane, wake up.” She shakes me until my eyes peek open. She’s called me Lane, or Laney since she could talk. In fact, that’s the only reason she does call me that. When we were only two years old, that’s how she said Velaney, and over the years, it just stuck. Everyone else calls me Velaney though, or Vel, because Lane is just for her.

  My parents couldn’t agree on my name. Nine months pregnant and still arguing about it. My father wanted Delaney so I would grow up to be a tomboy, and my mother wanted Veronica after her grandmother. After the nurses asked them my name, they compromised and formed Velaney.