Finding Perseverance (The Unexpected Love Series Book 3)

by T. E. Black

Ryleigh

  Have you ever found yourself ignoring someone because it hurts too much? The sound of their voice. The way the wind surrounds you with their scent—everything. Every single thing about them makes your heart ache.

  It's not something you plan, and you sure as hell don't want it to affect you. But you have no control over what your heart wants. That’s exactly what happens when my ex-girlfriend’s name flashes across my phone for the second time today.

  “Fuck,” I whisper under my breath.

  Susan Cole—the woman who changed my outlook on life. She seeped into every ounce of my soul. She opened my eyes and cleared my clouded judgment of two women being together. Susan showed me that it was okay to love again and that I shouldn’t be scared to connect with someone else.

  I never pegged myself for someone who would fall in love with a woman, but I did, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. I was even the one who made the first move, shocking the hell out of her … and myself.

  There is one problem I never saw coming, though. Susan hates my best friend. I can’t wrap my head around it. She’s an amazing woman, so why does she hate Trent so much?

  I have asked her a million times, and the answer is always the same: “I don’t like him. He uses you.” And while it might have been true at one point, it shouldn't have been a reason for her to isolate herself from him. After all, my friends are my family.

  My phone rings again, and I almost throw it at the damn wall. I don't want to deal with her.

  It's the same routine every time. She tells me she wants to work things out. I tell her not until she can accept every aspect of my life. She gets pissed. I get pissed. She brings up nonsense that is completely irrelevant to our relationship, like Rook. I roll my eyes, sick of hearing her saying a man is the problem. She bitches some more, and then I hang up.

  It has been like that since I told her I am not going to limit myself only to women any longer. She’s been insane. She may say she doesn't want to lose me, but what she's doing—harassing me—isn’t going to keep me around.

  I do love and miss Susan, but not this side of her. She's never going to accept Trent or my friends, and that's a deal breaker.

  The ringing cuts through my thoughts—again. This time, I answer.

  “What?” My tone is lethal as I let all my frustration show in the single word.

  “Uh … Is this a bad time?”

  Fuck! Not Susan calling.

  “Oh. Hey, Rook. I thought you were someone else.”

  “I feel pretty bad for the person who you thought was calling.” He laughs. “How’s it going?”

  His husky voice slips into my ears, causing my palms to clam up. Although it’s the way he’s always sounded, I can’t help but melt a little. Rook Wallace is the only man alive whose voice I find sexy.

  “It’s going. You know how it is. How about you?” I reply.

  “Same here. How’s Trent? Is he sober?”

  “He’s doing great—still clean. He and Shay have been going to a drug counselor together. Although, I don’t know why you don’t ask him yourself, Rook. I doubt he’s still pissed.” I sigh into the phone.

  “Leigh, we haven’t talked since Ma’s funeral. He’ll be pissed.”

  “Stop calling me that,” I snap.

  “Calling you what?”

  “Leigh. That’s not my name anymore. Hasn’t been for a long time.”

  Rook is the only one who’s ever called me Leigh, and back then I loved it. Now, I hate it. It makes me feel like the person I used to be, not who I am today. Leigh was weak. She depended on everyone, including Rook, to take care of her instead of just growing a set and taking care of herself.

  That was how Rook operated. He was raised to believe the man should provide and the woman shouldn’t have to lift a finger. Hell, he even cooked and cleaned when I didn’t beat him to the punch. He was a true gentleman, but that was ten years ago. I can’t help but wonder if he’s changed at all.

  “That’s still your name to me.”

  “Was there a point to your call other than asking about Trent?” I clip, aggravated at him for ignoring my demand.

  I don’t want to have this conversation today, or any day for that matter. Having a conversation about the dreaded nickname would only lead to talking about our past. I’m not about to open the wound again.

  “Why are you always so difficult?”

  When I don’t answer, he continues, changing the subject. “I’m coming to Boston.”

  “You’re what? Why?” I know why, this whole city knows why. That doesn’t mean I need to admit to him that I’ve been following his career.

  Last time he came to Boston, the motherfucker ended up in my bar.

  “Damn, Leigh. Do you hate me that much?” He chuckles before adding, “My title fight’s in Boston. Didn’t you see? It’s been plastered on every sports channel and radio station. Kind of hard to miss, you know?”

  He’s right, but it doesn’t mean I haven’t tried. Sports channels are sort of a requirement among the customers. I’ve seen every part of Rook’s career broadcast on television.

  “I didn’t see it, but that’s great.” I lie.

  “Maybe we could grab a drink or something.”

  “Maybe.”

  “All right. I’ll call you. I have to get to a press conference. See you soon, Leigh.”

  “See you,” I reply before hanging the phone up.

  My hands are shaking, and I wrap my arms around myself to try to calm them as well as the twisting that is going on deep in my stomach. Why the hell do I feel like this? The last time I saw him was when his mom passed away, and it was horribly awkward.

  “Is this place still cash only?”

  The bar glass I’ve been drying with a towel drops to the tile floor, smashing into pieces around my feet. I turn around in a swift motion as his voice echoes through every part of me.

  “Rook?”

  He’s still as tall as I remember, but now he’s a hell of a lot bigger. It’s been over nine years since I’ve seen him, and Rook looks drool worthy. He’s always been attractive, but it’s been a while since I’ve seen him in person.

  “Don’t look so happy to see me, Leigh,” he jokes, taking a seat on a barstool.

  My frozen expression finally breaks, and I smile.

  “What are you doing here, Rook? You should be with Trent. He needs you.”

  Trent hadn’t handled his mom being sick, and he was handling her death even worse.

  “Do you want the truth?” He leans forward on his elbows.

  “That’d be nice.”

  “I got to the funeral, and I kept thinking you’d be in the front row, mourning for my mom. But when I looked, you weren’t there. I found it kind of odd, you know? Every time I talked to Mom, she’d mention you were there, or that I just missed you. So, it was a surprise when you didn’t show up. Then, I went up to the casket to play Mom’s song with Trent, and out of the corner of my eye, I see the same blonde locks I would know anywhere, peeking around a tree. You wanna tell me if I am crazy, Leigh? Because I can’t wrap my head around the fact someone who loved my mother so much would be hiding out as if she didn’t have a right to be there. Then, I ask my brother where you were, and he says you two weren’t on good terms.”

  “Rook …” I plead.

  “No, Leigh. Tell me what’s going on. Because here I’ve been thinking I was crazy for the last two hours. Surely, the woman my mother considered her daughter had a good reason for not showing up to her funeral. So, what’s the reason? What could’ve possibly happened to keep you in the shadows?”

  This time, he pushes it too far. How dare he accuse me of not caring about Cynthia. I don’t give a shit if he’s grieving or not. The only reason I was hiding at her funeral was because Trent didn’t like the things I had to say to him. He was angry at me for saying he chose to do drugs. He was even more angry at me for telling him he was going to ruin Shay and Abby’s lives if he got involved with them. I told him the tru
th, and for that, he iced me out completely.

  “You know what? Fuck you, Rook! You think you can waltz in this bar like you own the place? You think you can ignore your friends for over nine years and come in here placing blame wherever you want to? No! It doesn’t work like that,” I seethe.

  “You think it’s been easy around here while you were gone, being the mighty Rook ‘The Reaper’ Wallace? I can assure you, things have been anything but easy! Your mom was sick, and you didn’t come home. Your brother was too busy shoving cocaine up his nose to deal with life, and do you know who was left to pick up the pieces? Me, damn it. So, don’t act like you know a goddamn thing when you don’t.” I slam a bottle of Sam Adams—his favorite beer—in front of him and walk away. Screw him. I’m done.

  The memory of that day pisses me off once again. Rook has always had a way of doing that. He gets me riled up. The funny thing is he’s also the one who can calm me down. It had taken me all of twenty minutes for me to stop hating him, but when I had come out of the office, he was gone.

  His barely touched beer sat on top of a napkin, which was covered in scribbles, and a fifty-dollar bill. When I picked up the napkin to get a closer look, I almost died. For the first time in his life, Rook apologized.

  Leigh, I’m sorry for being a dick. You didn’t deserve that. Call me if you want to talk. (555) 555–555

  - Rook

  After days of wanting to light that fucking napkin on fire for giving me resources to find him, I caved. I called him. Unfortunately, I loved every second of it.

  Chapter Four

  Rook

  “Maybe,” she tells me before hanging up.

  That “maybe” could mean so many things coming from the mouth of Ryleigh O’Donnell. It’s possible she just meant maybe she had plans, but she would be sure to check her calendar before getting back to me.

  Then there’s the off chance she could have told me to fuck off without saying the actual words. Or, she could have meant she would indeed meet me for a drink, but she didn’t want to come out and say it.

  The possibilities are endless. Though, if I had to guess what version of “maybe” I got from her, I would have to choose the one that meant “fuck off”. It wouldn’t be a surprise, considering how we left things ten years ago.

  Ten years ago, I was a different person. I wanted to be a different person. What I failed to realize then was that by being a different person I would lose my shot with the woman I’d end up comparing all other women to.

  When I decided to call Leigh, I had one simple goal—get her to agree to see me while I was in Boston. I wasn’t and I’m still not looking to rekindle our old flame, but I haven’t seen her since Mom’s funeral. Even then, we weren’t on good terms. I pissed her off to no end.

  I walked into her bar, where she stood with her back turned toward me. The moment I laid eyes on the woman she had become, my breath was taken away.

  She stood taller than I remembered and looked incredible. Her once thin body, was still thin, but had developed the most mouth-watering curves I had ever seen. When I spoke, the bar glass she was holding slipped from her hand, shattering into piece upon piece as it hit the floor.

  Then, she turned around and locked on to me with her intoxicating baby blues. Those eyes had always been my favorite feature about Leigh. They had a way of staring through me—always seeing the real me. They were never clouded with judgment or speculation.

  Her eyes were honest … like her soul.

  Her blonde hair was highlighted with pink, which was a bit of a surprise. Leigh had never attempted to stand out in the crowd with crazy-colored hair or overdone makeup. She didn’t need to. She was naturally beautiful.

  I cracked a small joke about her not looking happy to see me, and her shocked expression finally broke, releasing a smile I had missed.

  She told me I should have been with Trent because he needed me. Maybe he did need me, but I was sure she needed me more. After all, I did see her hiding out at the funeral when she should have been sitting in the front row next to me and my brother.

  She was family then, and she is still family now.

  My emotions got the better of me, though. Every word I spoke came off like I was pissed at her, and maybe I was. I was also concerned. I had no idea why she would hide like that when my mother was everything to her. She had known her as long as she had known me. She loved my mother more than her own, which admittedly wasn’t that hard to do. Her mom is a real piece of work.

  I was surprised when she set me off by saying my name in a pleading way, almost reverently. It was new to me.

  Maybe it was the fact that our mother had just passed away and she was emotional. Or, it could have been all the shit going on with my brother that she wouldn’t tell me about. Either way, Leigh wasn’t being herself.

  As I laid into her about telling me the truth of why she was hiding out, the Leigh I knew came back, and she got that cute crinkle between her eyebrows.

  I got under her skin with the things I said, because she told me to go fuck myself, slammed a bottle of Sam Adams in front of me, and walked away without another word.

  The mess I made last time I saw her was the reason I was nervous about asking her to meet me while I was in Boston. Not only did I lie about having an interview to hurry up our conversation so I didn’t lose my nerve to ask, but also I wasn’t sure how she was going to react.

  A knock at my door pulls me from my thoughts. It’s just then I remember I told Lauren to come over at seven for dinner.

  Fuck. Seven o’clock already?

  “Hey you,” Lauren coos when I open my front door.

  “Hey, babe.” I snake my arms around her waist and pull her inside.

  Shoving the front door closed, I lavish this woman with the affection she deserves. My lips trace the shell of her ear, and I whisper, “You look beautiful.”

  She giggles and tilts her head away playfully. “You’re too sweet, Rook. You’re also a liar.”

  With arms still wrapped around her, I move us toward the living room.

  “I’d never lie, babe. Especially not about how gorgeous you are.”

  She tenses underneath my hold, and I freeze on the spot. “Is everything okay?”

  I take a step away, and she looks to the side, keeping herself distant.

  “Hey,” I soothe, taking her chin between my thumb and forefinger, “talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”

  “I’m a horrible person,” she confesses, looking away.

  I feel for her when she thinks this way about herself. I’ve been there many times before.

  When I started fighting, I got lost in the attention. Everyone wanted a piece of the young up-and-coming fighter on the circuit. That meant women wanted to be with me, people wanted to know me, and men wanted to be me.

  It took a long time to filter out who had my best interest at heart and who wanted to use me for their own gain. Countless women in my bed and fake people made me learn the hard way after fucking me over time after time. It took me a long time to realize I wasn’t the problem.

  “You’re not a horrible person, Lauren. Why would you say that? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  The minute she’s done with her divorce, she’s going to be mine fully. I’ll take her out, show her off to the world, and love her with everything I have.

  Although, there has been a piece of my heart I’ve been withholding from her. It’s not her fault. She’s the perfect woman, but there’s also a lingering thought in the back of my mind that always compares her to Leigh.

  No matter how high the pedestal is I put Lauren on, Ryleigh O’Donnell’s pedestal will forever tower over hers. It’s been like this with every woman I’ve thought to get involved with. Not a single one of them could compare to Leigh, so it’s something I’ve learned to live with. Leigh would always be the one that got away.

  “I don’t feel like a good person. I feel like I’m being unfair to you. I’m still married. I have no idea how long it’
s going to take for his lawyer to settle with mine. How long can a man like you wait? You’re amazing. It’s only a matter of time before you get sick of it.”

  With each word she speaks, I smile a little more. Not because it’s funny, but because she’s so damn wrong. She’s not a bad person—she’s incredible. She’s not the least bit unfair—she’s the fairest. She may be legally married, but I know her heart's not invested.

  “You’re wrong about every one of those things, and although we can’t change most of them, we can change one. Let’s tell him,” I propose.

  The second the last syllable leaves my lips, her eyes go wide and the color drains from her cheeks. It’s not the reaction I wanted.

  “I-I don’t think that’s an option.”

  With both hands cupping her face, I pull her in closer until our noses are touching.

  “Why? Why isn’t it an option? I know we could make this work. He’s the only thing standing in our way. Do you love him?”

  “No,” she whispers without hesitation.

  “Then let’s tell him. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you. I’ve been thinking about doing it for weeks. I’ve played through every possible consequence of telling him, and not a single one would hurt more than losing you. If you don’t love him, then give me a chance. Do you trust me, Lauren? Do you love me?” She gives me nod, this time, a single tear slips down her cheek.

  “Yes,” she answers while I wipe away her tears with the pads of my fingers.

  “I love you. We can do this.”

  “Okay. Let’s do it. Let’s tell him,” she whispers.

  “Shit, Rook!”

  I wake up to pure chaos going on in my bedroom. My alarm clock blares like a foghorn, and my phone rings off the hook. Lauren is panicking, racing around the room while she attempts to find the rest of her clothes. It takes a moment to figure out what’s going on, and then I realize we overslept.

  Shit! She slept here!

  I fly out of bed and start tossing her clothes at her. As much as I want her to stay, she needs to get back before Mark realizes she’s gone. This isn’t the way he needs to find out. That dude’s insane, and it makes me worry how far he’d go to scare her.