by Tyler, Q. B.
“She’s so tiny,” I whisper. “What’s her name?”
“Isabella.” She looks down at her and I can see the love shining from her eyes to this precious baby she’d brought into the world. “Listen, Leigh, thank you for coming. It was…really big of you.”
“Yeah, well…I wasn’t exactly innocent in all of this either.”
“I know you hate me, and with reason, but I am sorry…for everything. Maybe you’ll never forgive me, but I hope that one day you can.” I didn’t come for apologies or to hash anything out with her. I came for me. I came so that I could look at the one person that had tried to hurt me and break me, and pray that I didn’t feel anger.
But I don’t. I feel relief. I feel peace.
“It all worked out in the end.” I give her a smile. “I am glad that you’re happy.”
“I am, Leighton. And I hope you’re happy too.”
“I am.”
“Tell Everett I said hi?”
I nod before giving her a small wave, and then I’m out of the room, letting the door close behind me and on a chapter of my life that I thought I’d never be able to close. I make my way through the parking lot when I notice a familiar face standing against my car with a smirk across his face.
“How’d you find me?”
“I could find you anywhere.” He smirks.
I wrap my arms around the back of his neck and press my lips to his. “Find my Friends?”
“My best friend.” He corrects and my heart flutters just like it always does when I remember that I am the luckiest girl alive to be in love with her best friend. “You see Alli?”
“And Isabella. She’s really cute for a newborn.”
“You saw the baby?”
“The one that was almost yours?”
“It was never almost mine. Wrong eggs.” He points at me.
“That was romantic and weird.” I shake my head and bump his shoulder with mine. “I took her a bear.”
“That was nice. You aren’t fleeing a crime scene though, right?”
“Shut up. We apologized to each other.” I smack his chest and he chuckles. “Did you want to go in?”
“No, I’m just here for you.” He smiles before cupping my face and swiping his lips across mine. “I’m proud of you.”
“For not killing her?”
“Well yes, but also for how much you’ve grown. You’re an incredible human, Leighton Mills, and I’m lucky as hell to call you my best friend.”
“You’re getting sentimental on me. You’re not proposing, are you?”
“And she has to ruin it.” He rolls his eyes. “Meet you at the restaurant?”
I blow him a kiss as he walks away. “Hey,” I call over our cars and he turns to look at me, “you’re pretty incredible too, and maybe if you’re lucky I’ll do some pretty incredible things to your dick tonight.” I wink before I hop in my car.
Three Years Later
I can barely see through the tears as I watch the second line appear on the pregnancy test indicating I’m pregnant. I put a hand to my mouth as a smile crosses my face. I stand in the bathroom in our apartment in Georgetown that we’d gotten once we graduated with some help from our parents. Everett and I got married earlier this year and we are currently looking for a bigger place now that we are trying for a baby.
And now I’m pregnant!
I squeal as I peek my head out of the door. Everett and I have plans to go out to dinner tonight, but I have a feeling once I reveal this news, we will be spending the night celebrating at home alone. I look down at the test and wonder if I should plan a fun, cute reveal. I think about that for about a half a second before I realize that it would require keeping a secret from Everett for longer than four seconds, which is impossible. I’d accidentally spoiled two surprise parties for him, one of which I’m planning because I don’t know how to keep a secret from my man.
“Everett, Everett!!” I squeal as I make my way out of the bathroom and into the living room where my husband is nursing a beer and watching a Thursday night football game. “Everett.”
“Mrs. Cartwright,” he addresses me, reluctantly pulling his eyes from the television and roaming his eyes over me. He gives me a smile, one of those sexy smiles that are reserved only for me before turning back to the game.
I dart my gaze to the fifty-inch flat screen mounted on the wall that Everett about threw a fit in the store to get, knowing damn well it basically dwarfed our small living room inside our small, but very expensive apartment.
“I need to tell you something? Can you…” I point at the television but he still hasn’t looked back at me. “Babe!”
“It’s overtime, baby, five minutes.”
“Five minutes in football? What, is there only twelve seconds left on the clock!?” I stamp my foot and turn to the television and then back to him.
“Come sit here. Come sit in my lap.” He taps his lap and I narrow my gaze. Irritation floats through me, but the idea of sitting on Everett’s lap sends a sexy shiver through me.
Maybe I can play with his…
I’m already moving before I can finish the thought and I’m in his lap, pressing my lips to his neck and rubbing my hand down his chest and over his dick that is hidden by a pair of sweatpants.
“Oh, hello.” He chuckles and rubs my back, but I can see he’s still looking at the game. “OH COME ON!” he yells.
“Everett.” I wince at the volume.
He presses a kiss to my forehead before turning back to the game. “Sorry, baby.”
I know the chances of me being able to get his attention now is slim, so I decide to just drop the bomb. “Speaking of baby, we’re having one.” Well, that’s not how I thought that was going to go. I roll my eyes and giggle at my delivery.
Whatever, I’ll do better on the next one.
He turns from the television and looks at me. “Say what, now?”
“Surprise!” I hold up the stick, I’d been hiding in the pocket of my joggers.
He turns the television off immediately and stares up at me and then down at the stick and then up at me again. “We’re having a baby? You’re…you’re pregnant?”
I nod as tears spring to my eyes again, and then his lips are on mine, his tongue rubbing against mine gently and then roughly. “Leigh,” he whispers against my lips, his hand finding my stomach and rubbing the space gently. He slides his hand up my body to cup my face before he pulls away from me. “You’re so fucking amazing.” He rubs his lips over my tattoo before he lifts me in his arms.
“We’re bailing on dinner, right?” I ask him and he stares at me with wide eyes before shaking his head.
He shoots me a wicked grin. “You’ll be lucky if I let you out of our bedroom before Sunday.”
THE END
Interested in Skyler and her Professor’s story? Then check out First Semester! The first standalone in the Campus Tales Series
Here’s a sneak peek!
Preview of First Semester
“LA VITA VA AVANTI”
Or in English: “Life goes on.” It’s what my mother always says. It’s a sentiment that I grew up hearing any time things seemed bleak. Whenever I felt the world at my back my mother would give me a day to wallow in self-pity before force feeding me a week’s worth of lasagna, followed by a kick in the ass, and the affirmation that life did, in fact, go on. It wasn’t until I traveled across the globe to the motherland and managed to fall in love and get my heart broken in the span of three months did I really understand the sentiment.
I rub the tattoo written in faint script trailing down my arm.
La vita va Avanti
My heart flutters against my ribcage as I think about riding on the back of a Vespa through the streets of Venice engorging in far too much pizza and pistachio gelato. Spending the nights making love under the skylight in the apartment my parents had rented for me. Everything about it felt magical. But I guess that’s what every young girl says about her whirlwind romance with t
he sweet-talking Italian.
“God Sky, you’re such a cliché.” My older sister snickered after I’d returned home four months later, ten pounds heavier with a heart I swore was broken inside my chest. I’d flipped her off and proceeded to spend the next two days in bed—Mom offered me a one day grace period because I guess I really looked pathetic. But, sure enough, on that second day, my mother slammed my curtains open, made me the breakfast of champions—frittata and more fresh rolls than was acceptable for your daily carbohydrate intake—and told me to take on the world because “La Vita va Avanti, Bella.” Life goes on.
It wasn’t until I found myself staring up into the neon sign of the tattoo parlor, sipping the iced coffee from the best, tiny bakery in Connecticut, that I realized just how I would show the world and myself that I had moved on.
Armed with the belief that I was a strong independent woman who didn’t need a man, I’d marched into the small shop, slapped my ID on the counter, and took control of my destiny.
My initial idea, a tattoo that read “men ain’t shit,” didn’t get rave reviews. The male tattoo artist seemed to take issue with that. And swore one day I would too.
I guess.
He’d urged me to get one that meant something and not an impulsive reaction in response to pain or heartbreak, because one day I wouldn’t hurt anymore. One day I wouldn’t give a fuck about he who shall not be named.
“Heartbreak sucks, kid, but you’ll love again.” He’d told me as he crossed his tattooed arms, lines of reds and blues inking his olive skin.
It wasn’t the same, but I heard the sentiment lurking behind the words.
Life goes on.
Ten minutes later, La Vita va Avanti was on my arm forever.
My mother had a fucking fit.
Get First Semester here
So originally, Spring Semester was supposed to be a completely different story. Some of you may remember I was writing about my real-life friend? But it turns out that writing a true story is actually really hard! Who knew!? I struggled with staying true to their story and stirring up the drama where it was needed. So, I decided after what felt like a month of writer’s block to tell a different story.
One about two best friends that had in been in love all their lives and now that the truth is out, they don’t know how to deal with each other. And because you know I love all things forbidden, Leighton and Everett demanded to be dating other people at the time. Spring Semester was my angstiest ride to date and I hope you enjoyed their story as much as I loved writing it (and really diving into some of the college experiences I didn’t in First or Second Semester!)
Thank you so much for reading!
Xoxo,
QB
This book wouldn’t… couldn’t have happened without some pretty fabulous people. Your input, your love, your support is invaluable to me. As I, (and Carrie Bradshaw) have said probably a million times—sometimes family is the one you’re born into, and sometimes it’s the one you make for yourself.
Carmel Rhodes, Thank you for helping me through what felt like the most painful writer’s block ever. For talking everything out with me, and helping me make sense of all of Leighton and Everett’s crazy! I have no idea what I’d do without you and your constant pushing and mom-aging. Love you big time.
Helen Hadjia, Leslie Middleton, Melissa Spence, Kristene Bernabe, Erica Marselas, Harlow Layne, Kristina Loaiza my insanely thorough betas, you’ve been with me for quite a while at this point and I don’t think you even understand what it means to me. I love you guys so much for everything you’ve done and do for me every day. You continue to show up for me and for that I’m so grateful!
Jeanette Piastri, where do I begin? Thank you for helping me bring all of my book babies to life over and over again. The cover is gorgeous and thank you so much for all the pretty things you made for me!
Kristen Portillo & Stacey Blake, thank you for making my books sparkle and shine every time. Your magic never ceases to amaze me!
Kelsey Cheyenne, Danielle James, Gemini Jensen, Rose Croft and Alexis Rae, thank you for all of your feedback and advice and sprinting with me when I need it! I’m so lucky to be on this journey with such badass women. I love you RR!
Denise Reyes, I am so freaking grateful for you. For talking with me about everything book related and for being in a different time zone which means I can message you at two in the morning and you’ll see it! For being such a genuine sweetheart and cheering so many of us on! You rock and I love you!
To my author friends, I’m so lucky to know you and I can’t thank you enough for your friendship and advice and support! I love you so much and I can’t wait to meet and squeeze all of you (some later this year!)
To everyone in the Hive, my sassy babes! Some of you have been with me, what, almost five years? Where does the time go? Thank you for your love and your support and making me feel like I can. I love you!
And finally, to the readers: Thank you for going on yet another journey with me. You guys rock my world every day!
Write. Wine. Work. Repeat. A look inside the mind of a not so ex-party girl’s escape from her crazy life. Hailing from the Nation’s Capital, Q.B. Tyler, spends her days constructing her “happily ever afters” with a twist, featuring sassy heroines and the heroes that worship them. But most importantly the love story that develops despite inconvenient circumstances.
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My Best Friend’s Sister
Unconditional
BITTERSWEET DUET
Bittersweet Surrender
Bittersweet Addiction
CAMPUS TALES SERIES
First Semester
Second Semester