At This Moment (Of Love and Madness #1)
Page 1
At This Moment
Of Love and Madness, Book One
Karen Cimms
Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Epigraph
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Note To Readers
About the Author
Acknowledgments
Turn the page for an exclusive sneak peek of:
Chapter 1
Copyright © 2016 by Karen Cimms
All rights reserved.
Visit my website at karencimms.com
Cover designer: Garrett Cimms
Cover photographer: Lisa Hopstock
Interior designer: The Write Assistants
Editor: Lisa Poisso
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Published in the United States by Lone Sparrow Press.
ISBN: 978-0-9974867-1-1
To my dad
Francis “Poppop” Tkacik
For believing in me long before anyone else did.
When love is not madness, it is not love.
—Pedro Calderón de la Barca
Chapter One
November 1988
It was the same conversation, week after week. Kate didn’t know why she even bothered anymore. She forced a smile at the two girls passing in the hall, then leaned into the pay phone on the wall outside her room.
“You said I could come home after homecoming.” She spoke in a hurried whisper. “That was two weeks ago.”
“You can’t still be homesick,” her mother said, irritation creeping into her voice. “Isn’t there a club or something you could join?”
She slumped against the wall. “Don’t you miss me?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll be home for Thanksgiving. That’s only two weeks away.”
“I’m not being ridiculous. I just want to come home for the weekend.”
“I’m sorry, no. And since you’re determined to make this into such an issue, perhaps it’s best to limit your calls. We’ll call you Sunday evenings like always. There’s no point in calling home every day just to whine.”
“Mo-omm!”
“That’s enough,” her mother said. “It’s Friday night. Go do something. It wouldn’t kill you to make some new friends. Your life didn’t end when Joey moved to New York.”
Kate twisted the phone cord around her finger until it turned purple. Actually, it kinda did.
Joey had been her best friend since third grade. They’d been practically inseparable. At least until he and his father had a falling out. Afterward, Joey took off for the big city in search of fame and fortune, something he was convinced he’d reap in spades.
As for Kate, she’d lost her North Star.
Her mother droned on for a couple more minutes, lecturing her about something she must be doing wrong, but she’d stopped listening. When she was finally dismissed, with a warning not to call unless it was an emergency, she returned to her room, unlaced her Docs and stretched out on her bed, staring up at the stained acoustic tile overhead.
The pale yellow walls of her dorm had seemed cheery in the waning days of summer when she’d first arrived at Rutgers. But in the dreary cold of November, it was like being imprisoned inside a sickly stick of butter. Even though her room at home was childish and way too pink, she missed it. It was safe. Familiar.
College life wasn’t at all what she’d expected. Coming from a long line of alumni, she had always known that she’d go to Rutgers. It had been a relief at first, to be away from home, out from under the shadow of her mother’s critical eye. She thought she’d finally be able to breathe, spread her wings. But it turned out that even though her parents weren’t there telling her what to do and how to do it, she had fallen into the same routine she’d grown up with. And without Joey to stir things up and pull her out of her little bubble, surviving college was beginning to seem hopeless. As sad as it sometimes made her, her old routine seemed the much safer option when faced with so many unknowns.
Perhaps it wasn’t the walls of her room that made her feel like a prisoner after all.
She picked up her Anthology of British Literature and was trying to wrap her head around Beowulf, when the door burst open and her roommate rushed in, dumping her backpack on the floor with a loud thud.
“What in God’s name are you doing?”
Kate peered over the top of her book. “Um . . . reading?”
“Not tonight, you’re not.” Toni grabbed the book and pitched it over her shoulder, hitting the wall with a satisfying thud. She tossed two fake IDs in its place. “We’re going out, and I’m not taking no for an answer.”
Toni could be a bit overwhelming, although she was a lot like Joey. They were both loud and gregarious, everything Kate wasn’t.
Toni gave her a threatening look. “Seriously. Get up and get gorgeous, or I’ll throw a bag over your head and drag you all the way to Kildare’s.”
“I have a test Monday.” Kate pointed around her roommate at the anthology splayed open in the corner, its spine twisted.
“It’s Friday,” Toni reminded her. “You have plenty of time. C’mon. Chop-chop.”
Kate opened her mouth to argue, but the prospect of another evening reading names she couldn’t begin to pronounce was too depressing.
And besides, hadn’t her mother insisted she get out and make new friends?
Stepping off the elevator a few hours later, Kate frowned at her reflection in the lobby window. She was wearing too much makeup, and her crimped hair looked huge. Reason enough to cut and run.
“So what’s going on at Kildare’s?” She tried to adopt a casual attitude as she and Toni headed down George Street.
“There’s a rock duo there tonight. They’re supposed to be really good
. Plus, I hear they’re both gorgeous.” Toni winked. “So if we’re lucky . . .”
Kate slowed to a halt. Maybe she should turn around, head back to Beowulf.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know if I’m looking to ‘get lucky.’”
Toni crossed her arms and jabbed a finger into Kate’s chest. “Listen, Mousy Brown. You’ve had your nose stuck in a book since you got here. You haven’t been to one football game or one party. It’s almost Thanksgiving. If you don’t get out tonight, you won’t have anything to talk about when you get back to East Bumblefuck, so let’s get moving!” She linked her arm through Kate’s and tugged.
Stumbling along beside her, Kate regretted her choice of footwear. How could she be expected to take a leap out of her comfort zone, when her boots were already pinching her toes?
Kildare’s was crowded and smoky and loud. Any other time, Kate would have turned and walked out. Instead, she braced herself and followed as Toni pushed her way to the bar and commandeered the bartender’s attention, flashing her fake ID and a little cleavage and ordering two Fuzzy Navels.
She had only had alcohol one other time. The summer after freshman year, Joey swiped a mason jar full of vodka from his dad. They hiked into the woods behind the high school and mixed it with iced tea. They got so drunk that on a dare, they each stripped out of their shorts, T-shirts, and underclothes. A lot more than curiosity had been stirred up when Joey stood naked before her. On the other hand, he took one look at her, exposed and vulnerable, and shook his head. “Nope, nothing—sorry.” It was as if she’d tried to tempt him with a piece of dry toast.
They didn’t see each other for several days after that. Humiliated and hung over, she spent the next day with her arms wrapped around the toilet. When she hadn’t returned his calls, Joey waited until her parents went out, then threw pebbles at her window. At first she ignored him, but as the stones grew larger, she became afraid he’d eventually break the glass.
“What?” She stuck her head out the window, glaring down at him.
“Just in time.” He dropped the small boulder he’d been about to lob at her window and brushed the dirt from his hands. “I want you to know you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. If I could, I’d whisk you away from your ivory tower and make mad, passionate love to you right here on this very spot, you dark-haired Rapunzel, you.” He pointed to the grass beneath his feet, then looked up at her with a sweet smile. She crossed her arms and tried to look angry, but it didn’t matter, she couldn’t stay mad.
“C’mon down and let me give you a big, wet kiss right on the lips.”
“Not necessary. I get it. I’m not your type.”
He lowered his voice. “Well, not exactly—but I do love you.” He folded his hands over his chest, just like he’d done playing Romeo in the eighth-grade play.
Their relationship had been like that since grade school. She was the yin to his yang.
“Here.” Snapping her back to the present, Toni handed her a glass of something orange and sweet-smelling. “Follow me.” She pushed her way through a wall of people to lay claim to a recently vacated table near the stage.
Bon Jovi shook the speakers on the walls as Kate took a seat and wondered how long it would be before her head cracked open like a ripe melon. Between the noise and the smoke, the chances of making it through the evening looked pretty slim.
There were few faces Kate recognized in the crowded bar, and no one she knew well enough to engage in conversation, unlike Toni, who had turned away to speak with someone at the next table. Kate crossed her ankles and tapped one foot rapidly against the other. She twisted a strand of hair around her finger. Invisible—that’s how she felt. Not that she wanted to be the center of attention. God no! But she could be invisible back at her dorm just as easily, and a lot more comfortable. She tried to wiggle her toes, and when she couldn’t she cursed Joey. She should’ve never let him talk her into buying these high-heeled boots.
Her discomfort, like the crowd, was growing rapidly.
One drink and I’m outta here.
She poked a finger in the orange concoction, gave it a stir, and then popped it in her mouth. Not bad. She took a cautious sip and then another. OK. Maybe two drinks.
Downing the contents of her glass, she watched as one of the musicians climbed onto the stage. He set a bottle of Budweiser on an amp and picked up a guitar.
“I saw him first,” Toni shouted over the music. “You can have the other one.”
Yeah, right. She snickered. “I didn’t realize they were ours for the choosing.”
“Why not?” Toni gave her a nudge, followed by a wicked smile.
“So is the other one the one with the nice personality?”
“Beats me,” Toni answered, just before someone else snagged her attention.
Kate laughed until she saw “the other one” making his way through the wall of people to leap onto the stage. His dark blond hair brushed the tops of his shoulders as he slipped his guitar strap over his head, buttoned it, and turned toward his amp.
An ear-splitting squeal shot through the speakers behind her.
Squinting into the light, he shielded his eyes and flashed a sheepish grin in her direction. “Sorry,” he called out. “Forgot to turn my volume off.”
Her heart beat loudly in her ears. It could have been from the sudden assault to her hearing, but it also could have been because the most beautiful man she’d ever seen had just smiled at her. She continued to stare as he turned away to adjust his amp.
A sharp jab caught her in the ribs.
“I think I spoke too soon,” Toni yelled over the steady thump of the jukebox.
Buoyed by false courage from the drink she’d polished off too quickly, Kate shook her head and grinned. “No backsies!”
Toni sat back, looking impressed. “Oh, really? Be my guest!”
Kate chewed on the stirrer from her empty glass and watched the second guitar player tune his instrument. I wonder what it would be like to be kissed by someone who looked like that. He was definitely not her type—not that she had a type. Her experience was limited to that embarrassing naked romp with Joey and getting felt up in the front seat of a Buick by her prom date. Her crushes had always been the clean-cut, studious types, the kind of boys her parents might approve of. Not men with long hair, earrings, and ripped jeans. Not, God forbid, a man with tattoos peeking out from beneath his rolled-up sleeves.
But still, he was certainly something to look at.
Chapter Two
Billy Donaldson buttoned the strap on his Fender Stratocaster. He gazed out at the crowd of twenty-somethings, at least six deep at the bar. If Viper kept packing them in like this, especially on the college circuit, it was only a matter of time before they would hook up with a concert tour.
As he tightened his strings, he tried to pick out the students from the townies. College girls looked the part, especially at a school like Rutgers. It might not be Ivy League, but the girls were a lot like the ones at Princeton. They came off smug, and although they were easy enough to hit on, they were usually looking for something more intellectual. Not that he wasn’t up for that. But after playing a four-hour gig, that wasn’t usually what he had in mind.
Townies were easy to pick out. Big hair, too much makeup. Only problem was, sometimes teenagers would sneak in with fake IDs. Last thing he needed was to get arrested for banging a fifteen-year-old.
He caught another glimpse of the dark-haired girl near the speakers, the one who had nearly jumped out of her skin when his amp screeched. He couldn’t quite peg her. She looked like a townie, but the chick she was with was definitely a student. The two didn’t usually mix. He caught her watching, but every time he smiled at her, she looked away. It was kind of cute, actually. Usually when he zeroed in on a girl at a gig, she’d not only smile back, she’d let him know that whatever he was thinking, she was willing. This was not one of those girls. But damn, she was pretty.
W
hen the set ended, he sauntered over to the bar and ordered a Jack Daniels. He let the whiskey roll over his tongue, savoring the taste while he watched the table in the corner.
“What’s the girl over there drinking?” he shouted over the jukebox. “The one with the dark, kinky hair.”
The bartender followed his gaze across the room. He shook his head and motioned for a waitress.
“Fuzzy Navel, but I prefer something with a little bite myself.” In case he missed her meaning, the waitress sank her teeth into her lower lip.
“Thank you, darling,” he drawled, slipping into his “aw, shucks” Midwestern accent. If things didn’t work out with the brunette, the waitress was a definite possibility.
“Another Jack and a Fuzzy Navel,” he told the bartender. The waitress shrugged and collected her tray of drinks, then pushed her way back into the crowd.
While he waited, the brunette’s friend stood and left with a jock in a varsity jacket. Perfect timing. He picked up the drinks and squeezed through the crowd.
“Hey.” He flashed one of his trademark smiles and held out the drink. “I think this is yours.”
Wide eyes, the color of a stormy sea, looked up at him, and for the briefest moment, he felt like a man falling overboard. There was a vague sense of familiarity. Had they met before?
“I hope your friend didn’t abandon you,” he said, taking a seat, trying to regain his swagger.
Her eyes followed him. “No. They just went out to the parking lot. She’ll be right back.”
He extended his hand. “Billy McDonald,” he said, introducing himself with his stage name.
“Kate Daniels,” she answered, taking his hand.
“Katherine, or Kathleen?”
She shook her head. “Just plain Kate.”
“Oh, Katie.” He leaned in closer. “There’s nothing plain about you.”
Deep pink stained her cheeks.
“Your hand is freezing,” he said. Reaching for its twin, he rubbed them between his own. “Better?”