Schooled in Love

by Emma Nichols

  “What?” She looked at me, tears still leaking from her eyes.

  “Sassy, this suit didn’t come with a pocket square. Please stop crying.” I offered a half smile while I gently wiped her eyes. “Come on, let’s go talk.”

  We’d barely made it through the door and she couldn’t stop sniffling. “I thought we were past this bullshit, all the stupid cliques, people trying to hurt and embarrass each other.”

  “The guy’s an asshole. Forget about him. I don’t give a fuck about that. No STD is going to come between us.” I pulled her toward me, hoping the hug would reassure her.

  “No what?” Her eyes were wide with shock.

  “STD. You know, sexually transmitted disease.” I tilted my head.

  She burst out laughing while still crying. “Everyone thinks I have an STD?” Sasha shook her head a few times. “That explains so much.”

  I eyed her curiously. “You don’t? Are you sure?”

  With a groan, she took my face in her hands. “Jordan, I’m a virgin. Unless there’s some other way to get an STD, then I’m positive.”

  I peeled her hands off my face, noting how she winced. This was a lot to process. “So, you’ve never been with anyone?” I found it impossible to hide my disbelief.

  “Nope. I kissed a couple of guys in L.A., but never felt a thing. My heart wasn’t in it.” Then Sasha looked away like she’d said too much.

  “I need you to understand.” I took a breath and tried to figure this out. “Back in high school, Mia told me what a whore you were. She said you had herpes. She called it the gift that keeps on giving. Oh, and this wasn’t in private, this was in some party at The Straights.” I fumed silently while examining her rapidly swelling wrist. “We need to get this looked at,” I murmured.

  She nodded. “We will. After we dance. I’ve waited too many years for this. I’m not going to let anything or anyone stop us.” Then Sasha grabbed me with her good hand, and dragged me back inside. She paused beside the door for the ladies’ room. “I need to fix my face. Will you wait for me?”

  I laughed. “I’ve been without you for so long, I don’t know how I’ll ever let you go.” I picked her up and crushed her to my chest before kissing her. “Yes, Sassy, I’ll be right here.” I thought about how my proclamation sounded, even to me. I’d spoken the truth. This weekend was far too short. Our time apart had been far too long. I wanted to get to know her all over again. I wanted to truly get to know the adult she’d become. An idea began to form.

  By the time she returned to my side, I felt a calm I hadn’t since before graduation. “I should warn you. I’m a terrible dancer.” I smirked. “But I’ll be more than happy to replace any shoes damaged while I try.”

  “Not necessary.” She laughed. “I’m a decent dancer. Had to learn for a part and I took lessons all through school.”

  “What else?” I asked as I wrapped an arm around her waist. “What else don’t I know about you?”

  “Tons of stuff.” Sasha smiled up at me. “I like long walks on the beach.”

  I chuckled. “At sunset, no doubt.”

  “At any time I get the chance.” She sighed happily. “I could live on sushi. I tried it on a dare and now I’m completely addicted.” Her brow furrowed. “Please tell me you don’t hate it.”

  “I like it. I haven’t eaten a lot of different varieties, but I’m not opposed to trying new things.” I ran my hand up and down her side. I looked up and realized we were already in front of the ballrooms again. “You’re sure about this?”

  Sasha nodded. “Positive. I don’t back down. I don’t let others interfere with my happiness.”

  Together, we strode into the room. “Bar? Half-priced cocktails,” I reminded her.

  She nodded. “Okay. One drink. One dance…”

  “One trip to the emergency room,” I suggested as I pointed at her arm. “It’s not getting any smaller.”

  Soon we had drinks in hand and her friends surrounding us. “I’m proud of you,” Amanda announced.

  “For coming back? That was nothing,” Sasha argued.

  “No. Anyone can come back. I’m proud of you for punching the guy. He had a bloody nose. It was awesome.” She laughed.

  “Oh, good. I’d hate to think I may have broken my wrist for nothing.” Sasha rolled her eyes. “And before you say anything, we’re going to the ER in a few. I want to dance first.”

  “Cool.” Then Amanda turned to me. “What’s with the face, dude?”

  “Shock. You don’t strike me as someone who’s married to a televangelist.” I frowned.

  Sabine laughed. “Yeah. He’ll be an awesome first marriage.” Then she winked before turning to me. “You better be good to her. I’ll find you.”

  “I will, and not just because I believe you.” I laughed. We stepped out onto the dance floor ready to take our spin during the next song when the music was interrupted for an announcement.

  Amanda stood on the stage with the mic. “The votes are in. The count is final. The king and queen of the class of 2008’s reunion prom have been decided. We’ll start with the king.”

  I stared across the room, my stomach in knots as I worried over being paired with Mia again. Once was more than enough.

  “The king is…oh, this is no surprise, for the second time…Jordan Mitchell!” She smiled at me and held a crown. “Come on up here, Jordan.”

  I groaned. Leaning over, I gave Sasha a kiss. “I’ll be right back.”

  She nodded. I could see she was a tad anxious. Luckily, Sabine and Tasi came over and surrounded her. I smiled and felt far less guilty.

  Ducking my head, Amanda placed the crown on my head and I turned to the crowd. “Thank you!” I waved to everyone, but I couldn’t take my eyes off Sasha.

  Amanda spoke again. “And our queen is…” She paused dramatically for a moment before continuing. “Sasha Monroe. Come on up, Sasha.”

  I watched as she smiled, threw her shoulders back and mounted the steps to the stage. I heard Mia boo in the background and storm out, but I couldn’t take my eyes off Sasha. As soon as Amanda had the crown on Sasha’s head, I yanked her into my arms for a dramatic kiss. The crowd roared. “Hello, my queen. And now, we dance.”

  6

  Sasha

  We left the hospital with my first cast. “Be glad you don’t have to have surgery,” the doctor lectured. “And stop punching people.” I started to open my mouth, but he interrupted. “No matter how much they deserve it.”

  “Sounds simple enough,” I replied with a laugh because morphine is good. Then I looked up at Jordan. “Too bad I won’t have you around to keep me in line and fight all my battles for me,” I joked.

  “Right. We’ll see,” he murmured vaguely before turning to the doctor. “Any special care I need to know about?”

  “It’s still my arm, right? So, doctor…you can tell me.” I flashed my eyes at Jordan.

  “Sorry, Sassy. I’m just worried about you. Give a guy a break.” He sighed.

  “The nurse will be in with discharge papers and care instructions. You’ll have to follow up with a doctor in L.A. for the cast removal, of course.” He stood up from his stool, shook Jordan’s hand, patted my bicep, and walked to the door. He hesitated a moment. “Listen, it’s not every day here that I meet not one, but two famous people. At the same time. Could I trouble you for a selfie or something?”

  I laughed. “I can do the selfie, but I feel like autographs will be out of the realm of possibility for a while. Jordan can though.”

  Soon enough we were exiting the emergency room and the sun was coming up over the horizon. “You know, this is way better than my last prom,” Jordan noted.

  “How can you tell? We spent most of it in here.” I laughed. “Wow. The bar must’ve been really low.”

  He swung me into his arm. “It was. This time, I had a much better date. And you’ve really made me think.”

  I smiled up at him. “Oh, yeah? And what have you been thinking about, wise one?”


  “Well, I’ve been in touch with my agent,” he began seriously.

  “Yeah. Is that who you were texting? I guessed another girl.” I winked, hoping to lighten the tone of the discussion. This was getting entirely too intense.

  Jordan shifted nervously as he opened my car door for me. Once I settled in, he walked around to his side, and started the vehicle before speaking again. “I’m off right now. I’m a free agent. And none of the training camps start for a month, but I have meetings set up for week after next with the Chargers and the Rams.”

  “That’s awesome! You’ll be in town.” I grinned. Maybe this didn’t have to end right away. Maybe this didn’t have to be a fling.

  “I know your schedule can be intense. And so can mine during the season...” He frowned as we pulled out of the parking lot and into traffic. “I want to try. I want to get to know you. And I thought maybe we could start with brunch.”

  His ears were pink and I could tell he was nervous. “Do you actually think I’m going to turn you down?” I asked gently. “Do you not know how long I’ve waited for you to come to your senses?”

  “You’re still a virgin.” His voice cracked. “I’m guessing forever.” Jordan glanced at me.

  I laughed. “Yes. Forever.”

  “Listen, I know I could stay in a hotel, but I’d love it if I could go home with you. Today. And stay at least through the discussion phase with the L.A. teams.” Jordan chewed on his lip. I could’ve spoken, but I was fascinated and then he started talking again. “I don’t want you to think I just want to hop into bed with you. That’s not it. No pressure. No rushing.”

  “No problem,” I murmured. “Come home with me, Jordan.”

  “You mean it?” His brows rose and his eyes widened.

  I nodded. “I do. What’s the worst thing that happens? We find out we’re not compatible?”

  He made a face. “No. The worst thing is we realize how compatible we are and I don’t get signed in L.A. That’s the worst.”

  “You seem pretty sure about us,” I commented. “I’m…surprised.”

  “Don’t be. I’ve been attracted to you for a long time, but…Mia.” He sighed.

  “Ah, yes. Mia.” I realized he was pulling into the parking lot a Café Willow Bay. “Hey, shouldn’t we go home, shower and change, then meet everyone here?” I frowned.

  “We could, but if we go home, our parents are going to muck this all up. I thought maybe we could go for a walk on the beach. Take some selfies. Make this Facebook official.” Jordan grinned.

  “Oh, and Instagram and SnapChat.” I practically danced in my seat. “And since my mom’s on all my accounts, I think we should call them too.”

  “Conference call?” Jordan suggested.

  I laughed. “I think that will be more efficient. You call your parents. I’ll call mine, then, call me and we’ll merge.”

  My mother answered first. “Are you okay?” She screamed into the phone.

  “I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” I frowned.

  “Well, we were only joking about not coming home,” my father explained. “Oh, you’re on speaker.”

  Jordan nodded at me. Looks like we were good to go.

  Jordan

  * * *

  “So, Mom and Dad, I need to add Sasha. Hold on for a moment.” Then I called Sasha.

  She giggled beside me as she answered. “Who’s this?” she asked as she winked at me.

  “Your future husband,” I announced confidently.

  Sasha sucked in a breath. “One step at a time, but you’re on the right path,” she whispered as she reached out and caressed my cheek with her good hand. “Let’s do this.”

  “Okay, is everyone on?” I listened as everyone answered and there was a cacophony of noise as the parents realized they were all on the line.

  “Oh my God. Do you think they eloped?” my mother asked.

  “If she got married without me, I’ll kill her. You hear me, Sasha? Marriage is a family affair.” Mrs. Monroe added.

  “We couldn’t agree more, but we’re not there yet.” I laughed. “We’re dating. I’m going back to L.A. with Sasha. And I’m going to try to move there.”

  “Oh my God!” Mrs. Monroe squealed.

  “Mom, we’re going to brunch. Then we’ll be home to get ready. Any chance you’re still driving us to the airport?”

  “Yes! See you soon!”

  We ended the call. “They’re sufficiently excited.” I laughed. “Let’s go make this social media official.”

  I opened her door and helped her out of the car. We wandered through the vacant parking lot and out onto the sand in front of the restaurant. “Go on,” I urged. “I need some pictures.”

  “Ugh. Me in a cast.” She shook her head, but still complied.

  I watched in awe as the sheer fabric of her dress blew in the wind. She had her hair draped over one shoulder and it waved as she moved. There was something so alluring about the way she walked, the way she looked with the sun providing backlight. I took pictures and videos while she posed.

  “Now you,” she suggested when she caught me studying the images on my phone.

  “No. Now us.” I pulled her into my arms and started taking more photos. We were smiling. We were serious. We were the epitome of new love.

  She cupped my cheek, tilted her head and pressed her lips to my jaw. “So, now we share.”

  I created an album and shared it with her on the cloud.

  “You’re serious,” Sasha murmured as she looked through them.

  “I am.” I pulled her closer and kissed her right there on the beach. Our tongues danced. My heart raced. I never wanted to let go. And when we finally, reluctantly drew apart, there were cheers from our classmates who stood out on the deck. “Come on, my queen. Let’s eat.”

  “Definitely, just don’t expect me to call you my king.” She laughed.

  “My prince?” I joked.

  “How about my love?” Sasha stared up at me seriously.

  I nodded. “I can totally work with that.”

  About the Author

  What made her decide to be a romance author?

  Simple.

  How else was she going to parlay her two favorite past times into a career?

  Emma is single and loving it. Like her first character, Alysin, Sin for short, she doesn't believe in settling or in settling down. She loves to indulge in her passions whenever the mood strikes and enjoys keeping all of life's cliché moments spicy.

  Known for her sense of humor, Emma surrounds herself with friends whose antics often become the source of book fodder. Her ideal situation would be to explore the Caribbean while writing. She pursues that dream daily.

  Connect with Emma:

  Sign up for her weekly newsletter: http://madmimi.com/signups/194407/join

  Website: http://emmanicholsromance.com

  More Than Puppy Love

  Regina Morris

  More Than Puppy Love Copyright (c) 2018, Regina Morris

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. All of the characters, organizations, places and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are fictitiously used. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without the written permission of the author Regina Morris with the exception in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Printed in the United States of America.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the internet or via any other means without the permission of Regina Morris is illegal and punishable by law. To obtain a copy of this story, please purchase only through authorized electronic or print editions. Do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials or their illegal dis
tribution in any way.

  More Than Puppy Love

  An absentee fiancé, a past rival, and the boy she crushed on throughout high school? What more could ex–wallflower, now veterinarian, Kacie Preston deal with for her ten–year high school reunion? When one of her patients turns up mistreated at the event, all bets are off.

  1

  Kacie was aging, and her eggs were drying up.

  It had been two days since her fiancé had called her, and the message from his assistant made her cringe. She clenched her cell phone tightly, making her knuckles turn white, and glared at the call log. Braiden didn’t even have the decency to call her himself. She interacted more with his damn personal assistant than to the man she intended to marry in May.

  Well, May of next year. They had postponed the wedding twice already.

  “Why the long face?” Derrick's gaze darted from his boss to exam room #2. He focused on the long, sterile hallway of the vet clinic, his eyes filling with concern. “Will that cute puppy survive?”

  A punch to her gut wounded her pride. She needed to work, not engage in a pity party. That hurt, three–month–old puppy was in her capable hands. She smoothed the wrinkles from her white hospital coat and focused on her job. “Jasper is fine. He needed stitches, and he'll be wearing a cone for six weeks, but he'll recover fully.”

  An expression of relief crossed Derrick's face. “I doubt that little fluff–ball will pick a fight with a raccoon again.”

  “Hopefully not for a long time.” She pointed to a crate where a Sheltie puppy lay sleeping, his tiny head poking out of the smallest cone the vet clinic had. “I stitched up his ears and throat. His eyes took a beating, but they’re all right. He's getting some IV fluids now, and will spend the night here.”