Losing You
Copyright © 2016 by Ryleigh Andrews
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover Design by
Najla Qamber Designs
Interior Design and Formatting by
Christine Borgford, Perfectly Publishable
Editing by
Lisa Christman of Adept Edits
Proofed by
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Table of Contents
Losing You
Books by Ryleigh Andrews
Part One
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 Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Part Two
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
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Chapter Sixty
Epilogue
Note to the Reader
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Never Over You Series
Bring Me You
Still Into You
Never Over You
Only in the darkness can you see the stars. ~ Martin Luther King Jr.
Lizzie
Chicago, June 2006
Sometimes even the most well thought out plans go awry. Lizzie had pictured herself far away from the town she grew up in. Her parents had moved away when she started college. Nothing really tied her to the small Chicago suburb of Lombard. All her life, she had pictured herself on the coast, west or east, it didn’t matter, though to be honest, she preferred the sun and surf of the West Coast. College had her basically right in the middle of the country—the University of Colorado at Boulder. Not anywhere near any kind of surfing. Just mountains and snow. Graduation found her taking a job in Colorado—the place she’d just spent the past four years of her life-not L.A. or San Francisco, but Denver.
But it had been an amazing opportunity. Lizzie let herself become the career; her life, the job. She hadn’t taken the time to build a personal life. Everything was about work. For eight years.
Until one afternoon changed that for her. A promotion she worked her ass off for didn’t materialize for her but for one of her boss’s buddies. In that company, if you didn’t have a dick, you didn’t get ahead.
She was done. Tired. She needed her life to be more than it was.
The very next day Lizzie began the process of finding a new job. She thought about her dream of being in California, but when she started looking at the job boards, Chicago kept popping up. The funny thing, it felt right.
Time to return home.
That’s how she found herself sitting on the brown vinyl seat as the fairly empty Metra train pulled out of Chicago’s Union Station, taking her west towards her newly purchased house in her old hometown.
Relaxing her head against the seat, Lizzie closed her eyes and thought about her first month at her new job with Nigel Advertising. It had exhausted her. She really liked her boss and the potential for growth, but the job was more demanding than she’d originally imagined. But she was fine with that . . . wasn’t she?
The job may have been more of a challenge but she had friends here. Well, she hoped she still did. But here she was a month back and hadn’t contacted them. Her job had gotten in the way again. She shook her head at that.
She pulled out her day planner from her bag (yes, she still used a day planner. She thought better when things flowed from pen to paper). Flipping to the address portion, her eyes landed on a name.
Tom Myers.
Best friend extraordinaire, or at least he used to be until she let her job in Colorado become her life. The last she’d seen him was the summer after she graduated from college. The last time she’d spoken with him was her birthday in December.
So long ago.
Tracing her finger over her neat handwriting, she thought about him.
Her mind instantly went to the first night she met him at a party their sophomore year of high school where her brother’s stupid friends had pushed her into Tom. After that night, she and Tom had become fast friends and had hung out all the time along with his neighbor and close friend, Ollie, and her best girl friend, Gwen. The four of them had been a team—always together.
Tom had become her sounding board. He heard her dreams, her desires to leave and go elsewhere. He sat by her side and comforted her during all her boyfriend drama. He celebrated with her when she’d been accepted to the University of Colorado. He squeezed the breath out of her before she climbed in her packed car and drove off to Boulder. Every week he called her, asking about her life as a college student and then told her about how his apprenticeship was going.
Tom was her constant until he wasn’t. Her constant until that damn job overtook her life.
But no more.
This time, things would be different. She’d make damn sure of that.
The conductor announced her stop, interrupting her thoughts. Chewing on her thumb, she decided she’d give Tom a call once she got home. With that plan in the forefront of her mind, she closed the binder and stuffed it in her bag.
Standing up, Lizzie stretched before heading to the doors. After the train slowed to a stop, she made her way onto the platform with the other commuters and walked the short distance home.
She’d grown to like this walk the past month. No more commuting by car for her. No sitting in bumper to bumper traffic, breathing in the toxic fumes. She had paid premium dollar to hav
e a place within walking distance of the train. No one went the same direction as her so she could be alone with her thoughts or just observe what was happening around her without all the chaos of work and her commute. The ten-minute walk allowed her to unwind before she got home and began working on getting her place how she wanted it.
When her real estate agent showed her a big Dutch Colonial revival-style home, Lizzie knew it’d be perfect for her. The house needed a little updating, especially the exterior, and she was up to the task of renovating it. She already had work being done to the house, and her vision was nearly complete, more a sign that she didn’t have a speck of a social life than anything.
That would change with this call to Tom.
As she went up to her bedroom, her clothes flew off along the way. When she came back out, she had on a pair of gym shorts and a tank top. Grabbing her bag, she made a beeline to the kitchen. A cold beer was in her immediate future. After she popped the top, Lizzie pulled out her planner and flipped to the M’s, scanning her finger over Tom’s name. It was a hot Friday night and she wondered if he’d even be home. Hell, did he even have the same number anymore? Picking up her cell phone and her beer, she moved to her patio and sat down on one of the deck chairs. She punched in the numbers, the ring tone the only thing keeping her company.
“Hello?” The masculine voice on the other side of the line spoke. Lizzie smiled, recognizing the deep timbre of Tom’s voice. How had she let so much time pass since she’d last spoken with her best friend? The moment his voice hit her ear a peace she hadn’t felt in years blanketed her.
“Remember me?” she asked.
The surprised intake of breath broke into the silence that’d been on the line. “Lizzie? Holy shit! Is that really you? Damn, it’s been a long time. How you doing?”
“I’m doing okay. What’ve you been up to lately? Besides cursing my soul . . .”
His warm laugh reassured her. She’d missed it so much. How could she have ever gone this long without talking to him? She missed that and wanted it to change.
“I’ve been working and enjoying life. What about you?” he spoke and she could hear the smile in his voice.
“I just moved,” she told him excitedly.
“Oh, yeah? Where?”
“Lombard,” letting it hang out there and hoping he got it.
“Wait, what? Does that mean you’re back in town?”
“Mmhmm,” a smile forming at his excitement.
“When did all this happen?”
“A couple months ago. I finally realized I didn’t belong in Colorado.”
“It’s about time you came to your senses and returned home,” he replied.
“What can I say? Irish stubbornness?”
A laugh escaped him and Lizzie could imagine him shaking his head at her, a knowing smile on his face. Before she could say anything else, he continued. “You definitely should come to the party I’m throwing this weekend.”
“Party? I like parties.”
“Tell me something I didn’t know . . .”
“I missed you?”
“Knew that too . . . I mean, come on, how can you not miss me?”
Lizzie sighed. She’d missed him more than she wanted to admit to him at this moment. She hadn’t made a connection with anybody like the one she had with Tom. That’s what she had been missing in her life out in Colorado. She simply needed him in it.
“So, where’s this party at?”
“My house. Got the address?” he asked.
“What time?” she asked in lieu of answering. Yes, she still had it.
“Tomorrow, starts at five and lasts until the final person leaves.”
“Like always,” she said. “I’ll be there. It’ll be so good to see you, Tom.”
“Back at you. See you tomorrow.”
“Bye,” Lizzie said. She waited for Tom to hang up before she placed the phone on the table. “Saturday.”
In less than twenty-four hours, she’d be laying her eyes upon him again and she couldn’t wait.
Getting ready for the party took Lizzie hours. She had absolutely no idea what she should wear—something casual like jeans and a t-shirt or something a little nicer like a summer dress? This shouldn’t have been so hard. Just a party at Tom’s. But then again it wasn’t. She’d be seeing her best friend again after years of not and she wanted to look good. Though when Lizzie looked at the mountain of clothes on her bed, she screamed in frustration.
“Whatever!” she exclaimed, finally deciding on a pair of maybe-a-little-too-short cut-offs with frayed ends, a tight white tank top under a green zip-up hoodie, and a pair of plain white tennis shoes. Looking in the mirror, what she saw finally made her happy. Normal party attire. Why had she made such a fuss about her outfit in the first place? It would’ve saved her a lot of time.
Speaking of time, Lizzie quickly glanced at the alarm clock on her nightstand. Shit! Well, she’d definitely be fashionably late. Hurrying down the stairs, she grabbed her small pink bag and a green Cubs cap along the way, and left the house, quickly hopping into her black Jeep.
The drive to Tom’s place took about twenty minutes. She pulled into an empty spot outside of his house a little after seven o’clock. The party sounded like it was in full swing with lots of rambunctious laughter and loud music.
She removed her cap, shook her head to fluff out her hair, and checked the result in the rearview mirror. After locking her bag and cap in the center console, she slipped the key and her phone into her back pocket before checking her hair one more time. She smiled. Perfect!
As Lizzie made her way to the lavender-lined path between Tom’s house and his neighbor’s, she saw a motorcycle in the driveway and her smile fell away. Tom still had his bike. She’d hoped that the beast of a machine would be gone. He’d graduated high school and the first thing he’d done was buy that bike. Lizzie had hated that bike ever since her one and only ride on it—death on wheels. The vulnerability she’d felt had overwhelmed her. There was no cushion, no protection. Just you versus everything else on the road.
She stood by the gate, her hand resting on the latch, and regarded the partygoers. Her eyes scanned the yard for Tom and finally spotted him by the grill, a beer in one hand, tongs in the other. And whoa . . . he had grown up. Last she’d seen him, he’d still had that boyish look to him. Now . . . his body was still lean but it was all muscle, well, at least what she could see of it. He definitely looked like he was outside a lot—he had a golden tan, nicely accented by his simple white t-shirt that hugged his chest and shoulders perfectly. His beautiful straight, blond hair sans his normal Chicago Cubs hat was on the long side and full of sun-drenched highlights.
Unlatching the gate, Lizzie entered the yard, intent on reacquainting herself with an old friend.
Tom
Tom put the last sausage on the plate and set it and the tongs down on the table next to him. He turned off the grill and glanced around his large backyard. He loved these parties—people all over, drinking and having a good time. He should be happy about this yet he felt agitation creeping up his neck.
“They’re done,” he announced to no one in particular. He took a swig of his beer and wrinkled his face in disgust. Warm beer. Setting the bottle down on the table, he was drawn to a movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned towards the gate and saw it—an unfamiliar, yet familiar woman. Lizzie? He’d been beginning to doubt she would come. And that thought hadn’t made him happy. The party had been going for at least two hours and she hadn’t shown.
Until now.
Tom started towards her, quickly making his way across his deck and to the gate. “Lizzie?” he asked expectantly. A slow smile formed on his face as he got even closer. It was her. He couldn’t believe it. His M.I.A. best friend was finally in front of him after eight years. Eight fricking years too many.
With their busy schedules trying to build their careers, life had gotten away from them. Him building a reputation as a furniture design
er, her as an advertising mastermind. It’s not like they hadn’t tried to get together. At first money had been tight—real tight. Then it had been time. Both their careers were not nine-to-five kind of deals. They worked crazy hours, had crazy deadlines.
“Still me last I looked,” she replied, her deep, sultry voice still a contrast to her petite body. Just like her smart ass mouth was the complete opposite to her girl next door image. He’d fucking missed it.
Her.
Tom bent down and enveloped her in a big hug, lifting her feet off the ground. A surprised laugh escaped her mouth before she wrapped her arms around his neck, crushing him to her. He spun her around a couple times before he set her down and backed away to get a good look at her. She was more elegant now, more stylish. Her once waist-length, strawberry blonde hair was now cut a few inches below her shoulders, making her face stand out and what he saw amazed him. Her hair looked fuller somehow to him, like the rest of her body. Sometime over the past eight years, Lizzie had become drop-dead gorgeous. He couldn’t believe he’d never seen it before. Without all the hair, he noticed the gold flecks scattered in the amazing emerald of her eyes.
Taking her hand, Tom gave her a spin as he continued his exploration downward. She went to college a girl and came back a woman though she was still tiny as fuck, even more so now without all that hair. Now he could see all her curves along with the tiniest little waist. He lifted his head and saw the rise of her breasts above her shirt. Damn, his best friend had breasts. Beautiful breasts that he shouldn’t notice.
Shaking his head, Tom berated himself. He shouldn’t be thinking of her like that. One, she was his best friend. Two, his current girlfriend, Molly, was here. Somewhere . . . maybe. He couldn’t remember.
He looked up from Lizzie’s chest and saw the wicked smile in her eyes. A gentleman would be embarrassed that he’d been caught checking her out, but he was neither, not in the least.
Grabbing her hand, he began the process of introducing her to his friends. As she met his friends, he continued to hold her hand. He couldn’t let go. She looked up when he gave her hand a quick squeeze and he couldn’t help but smile. He’d missed her so much. The connection they’d always had from the moment he’d met her at that crazy party their sophomore year in high school was still there. Distance may have strained it, but right now, things were how they should be.
Losing You (Stars On Fire #4) Page 1