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Addiction

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by Angela McPherson




  All Rights Reserved

  Copyright © 2014 by Angela McPherson

  Cover Design © 2014 by Sean Hayden

  Cover Photo © 2014 by Shutterstock / Otna Ydur

  All rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination and or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Published by Untold Press LLC

  114 NE Estia Lane

  Port St Lucie, FL 34983

  www.untoldpress.com

  PRODUCED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

  Rayna, this is your end and I couldn't have done this without you.

  To every single person who loved Distraction, and those who messaged me to hurry and finish Addiction, THANK YOU.

  Lynn Vroman, I owe you so much more than a written thank you. However, until we can meet for drinks, you'll have to settle for a simple, thanks, pal. Jen Wylie, thanks for taking a chance on me. I love this story and I'm so grateful to have you in my corner. Sean Hayden, I'm in awe of how crazy good your cover designing skills are. Thank you for creating this awesome cover. Heather Van Fleet, I'm so glad we're friends, thank you for listening to me complain over these characters non-stop. Lynn, Jen, and Heather, I don't think I'd be able to get through a day without chatting with you crazy gals.

  Brandi Baker, Karia Kaukinen, Dori Estabrook, and Rayna Rose, you ladies keep me going and your friendship means the world to me. Kat Davis-Muynila and Liz Swaffer, y'all are the best! Thank you ladies for all your support.

  Mom, Shelley, Lynn, Denise and my work family, thank you for being my biggest supporters. I love and miss you all so much! Ryan Blake McPherson, thank you for picking up our kids, cooking, doing laundry (cause you know how much I hate it) and for basically being the best honey bunny ever. Love you, always. My kids, Tailer, Thomas, and Trinity, you kiddos amaze me daily. You complete me, I love y'all.

  Elle

  We didn't talk much during the drive back to our hometown, but words weren't necessary. The soft smile on Tristan's face as he drove with his left hand while holding mine in his right screamed louder than any words ever could. He was mine.

  Turning to watch the scenery pass by, I let my thoughts drift back to the start of this year. At the beginning of the semester when Tristan told me about his engagement to Kellie, the psycho, I couldn't breathe from the disappointment crushing my chest. Topping that, he also divulged he'd transferred to Tech, making sure my life remained as miserable as possible. Even though I loved him, seeing Tristan with another woman tore me to pieces.

  Before their relationship ended, thinking we'd ever find our way to one another seemed impossible. So, what did I do to get over my hot, football star, best friend? I dated someone completely opposite of Tristan… Eric Green, a handsome baseball player. Eric was super sweet, but at the end of the day he was never who I wanted.

  I didn't intentionally set out to hurt anyone. The way I strung Eric along, knowing I was in love with someone else, left me feeling like a self-centered jerk. Ironically, when Tristan was injured, our relationship started to come together for us while Eric and I fell apart.

  Who'd have thought a broken collarbone and a concussion would've made us get our heads removed from our asses. But God, the brunt trauma Tristan suffered was bad. Just thinking about it brought tears to my eyes.

  I shifted in my seat, removing myself from the past, looking forward to our future.

  Peeking over at Tristan's profile, my chest tightened. The fact that he was able to pull off looking so incredibly sexy that early in the morning awed me. The gritty stubble shadowing his strong jawline and the way strands of hair framed his warm eyes quickened my pulse.

  Tristan glanced my way and grinned. Lifting our hands, he brushed a feathery kiss across my skin. "What's got you so quiet, Spud?"

  My knuckles tingled where his lips touched. "Oh, you."

  His smile deepened. "Well, then carry on."

  I fought to keep my eyes open during the rest of our drive. Tristan ran his finger along my cheek, the enamored glint in his eyes made my insides jump.

  "You look tired. Get some sleep." Those perfect, full, kissable lips formed into a sexy, hell-bent grin. "You're going to need plenty of rest."

  He tore his eyes away from me and back to the road. Sliding the back of his hand down my arm, he then laced our fingers together. "We're leaving after dinner tomorrow. We haven't finished making up for," he turned back to me and winked, "lost time yet." Tristan squeezed our hands, sending the normal thumping inside my chest into hyper-drive.

  I stretched out the soreness from my arms and legs. After the early morning surprise in bed, we woke up and finished another round of lovemaking in the shower. Years of listening to Alyssa prattle on and on about her sexual escapades, I finally understood her, um, enthusiasm. Speaking of which, she was going to flip the next time I talked to her. Man, I missed our late night, or morning talks, although being with Tristan felt right. Perfect.

  Tension pulled at the corners of his eyes.

  I squeezed his hand. "Hey, what's wrong?" I balled my other hand, worry settling in my shoulders.

  He brought our joined hands to his lips and kissed the inside of my wrist. "Nothing you need to worry about."

  Um, I don't think so. I attempted to free my hand from his, but his hold remained strong. I gave up. "I can take it, whatever it is. Just spit it out." My stomached knotted, betraying the lie.

  "I'm telling my parents about us." He glanced down, and the tension cornering his eyes moments ago fell. The side of his mouth pulled up in a cocky grin. "I'm almost hoping my dad kicks me out." He winked. "Then I'd have an excuse to stay with you."

  I frowned and pulled my bottom lip between my teeth. Shit. His dad hated me. As much as I loved Tristan, I didn't want to be an added cause to their problems, especially since Tristan and his dad never got along in the first place.

  I shook my head. "No, I don't want to ruin this. We're together so there's no use in creating a potential problem between you and your family. I love you, Tristan. I'm not going anywhere. Spend time with your parents and we can tell them about us once we're back at school."

  Tristan gazed ahead, concentrating on the road in front of us. He remained silent for quite a few minutes, making me worry my bottom lip even more. Finally, he glanced over at me.

  "No, I've waited to tell them you were mine for years now. No way am I going to pass up the first chance I get in order to make my dad happy."

  I opened my mouth to argue, but he cut me off.

  "I'm not playin', Spud." His eyes darkened and wrinkles crested his forehead.

  Stubborn ass. "All right, fine. I'll leave my window unlocked," I grinned, raising a brow, "but only if you're lucky."

  Tristan chuckled softly, resting our hands in his lap. With his attention back to the road, I closed my eyes and prayed nothing terrible would happen between him and his dad. I used to think Mrs. Daniels didn't approve of me, but after Tristan's stay in the hospital, her behavior had changed. She'd been nice. Maybe his dad would do the same.

  My throat dried–this time from not knowing if I'd be able to see my sister, Heather, this year. Hopefully this Christmas would be different for both our families. Tristan and I were due for a little peace.

  Losing the battle with my eyes, I ended up falling asleep the rest of our way home. Tristan reluctantly dropped me off at my mom's house. Once my bags were unloaded in my room, he kissed me. His kiss lingered, making my legs weak and my heart ache when the sweet e
mbrace ended. Intensity and heat blazed in his eyes when he backed away.

  Clearing his throat, he said, "I'm having a hard time leaving you."

  My stomach clenched. Me, too.

  "You need to get home before your mom starts to wonder if something happened to you. However, if you feel the need to sneak out later..." I wrapped my arms around his neck, stepping up on my tiptoes.

  His arms slinked around my waist, holding me tight against his firm chest. God, I missed him already. We'd been with each other nonstop since his release from the hospital after his injury. But his parents, or at least his dad, didn't need another excuse to hate me.

  The sound of the front door closing pulled us apart.

  Tristan sighed. "I'll say hi to your mom while you finish unpacking."

  I nodded, afraid if I opened my mouth I'd end up begging him to stay. Instead, I moved to the suitcase on my bed.

  "Be sure to keep your phone on."

  I looked up, catching a glimpse of his mischievous grin, and then up higher to his eyes. My breath hitched. His intent sent a rush of desire through my body.

  Damn, he never played fair. Time to up my game. Figured I'd give him a dose of what he'd put me through all these years.

  "One more thing before you go." I worked to keep my voice even. Warmth spread across my face, up to my ears, but I forged on. "I bought you a Christmas present. Something…" I raised my brow, a slow grin creeping over my lips. "Lacy."

  Tristan's eyes smoldered, emitting a wealth of fire to burn low in my stomach. His hands balled into fists. He attempted to take a step closer, but stopped when Mom hollered up the stairs.

  "Elle, are you and Tristan up there?"

  Still grinning, and absolutely loving the effect I had over him, I replied, "Yeah, I'm here. Tristan'll be down in a minute."

  Frustration settled between his brows. "Don't think for one minute this conversation is over," he said, voice low and husky.

  Oh, how the tables had turned. "I love you," I said, meaning every word.

  His expression smoothed and this time he walked over. Cupping my face, he stared down at me. His emotions clear to read.

  He didn't say a thing. Simply pressing his lips to mine, he kissed me, tenderly. The connection expressed more than words could ever reveal. All this time I'd been such an idiot not to have noticed.

  I could've stayed with him like this forever.

  When he broke away, he rested his forehead on mine. Keeping his eyes closed, he said, "I'd like to say I love you and mean it. Only, that isn't enough to describe what I feel for you… how much you mean to me, Elle."

  I drew in a deep breath, taking everything about this moment into memory. Tristan opened his eyes and smiled. All cockiness set aside, nothing but pure honesty showed in his expression. I opened my mouth, but he pressed his finger over my lips.

  "Don't. If either one of us says another word, there's a pretty damn good chance we'd end up on your bed. Fuck it, probably the floor. Without clothes." His jaw tensed. "So, I'm going to leave. I can't have your mom forbidding me from ever seeing her daughter again."

  I giggled. "Yeah, that'd suck."

  The cockiness in his grin returned. "Not as if she or anyone else could stop me from being with you."

  I grinned around his finger still pressed to my lips.

  "Sorry, Spud. Like it or not, you're stuck with me."

  When Tristan finally headed out, I grabbed a few things from my suitcase, setting them in my dresser when my phone rang. I hurried over, smiling. Tristan was calling me all ready. Only it wasn't him, or a number I recognized.

  I answered anyway. "Hello?"

  "Hey, nerd."

  The phone slipped from my hand and clunked to the floor. I couldn't believe it.

  Heather.

  Heather

  Sweetheart, something important came up. I've upgraded your ticket to first class. Wish I could be there. Talk to you soon. Dad

  That familiar emptiness sent ice through my veins. What the hell was more important? My stomach knotted. A cold sweat broke across my forehead and I doubled over, clenching my abdomen.

  You can do this. In rehab we learned to settle anxiety by way of positive self-reinforcement. Problem with addicts, we sucked at positive reinforcement.

  I stood in front of the mirror, alone in the restroom. Running water from the faucet, I scooped up a handful and splashed it over my face. The coolness helped settle the continuous gnawing in the pit of my stomach. Since Dad wouldn't be flying home with me, I needed a backup plan. I pulled my cell from my back pocket.

  My face heated and my stomach cramped. I don't think I'd ever been more nervous in my life. My fingers trembled, hovering over the dirty numbers on my pre-paid phone. Call or not call?

  Mom said she'd be happy to hear from me and Tristan wouldn't let up about it either, but I still doubted. I always doubted.

  Only one way to find out. With a deep sigh, I pressed send.

  The line rang, and rang again and then again. Every unanswered ring made my stomach sink lower. My hand began to really shake, making it hard to hold the phone steady against my ear.

  "Hello," Elle said, uncertainty laced in her voice.

  I thought I was nervous before, but nope, this topped it. I swallowed the shit-storm threatening to throw me back into a life that promised sweet numbness.

  Shit. No, I could do this.

  "Hey, nerd."

  I heard a sharp intake of air and then a loud clink. Go figure, she dropped the damn phone. I waited, calming myself by counting square tiles on the linoleum floor in the airport bathroom. A cleaning lady had just finished up when I came in to hide. Bleach fumes burned my nose.

  "Heather?" Elle's voice reflected panic, as always. I suppose I couldn't blame her for worrying.

  "Did you just drop me?"

  She did a laugh-sniffle combo. My throat worked, fighting back the barricade of emotions from hearing her voice for the first time in several months. Before I could help it, tears dripped down my cheeks.

  Dammit. My sponsor, Rosie, warned me about this sort of reaction. She also strongly suggested I not leave rehab, either. Obviously I refused to listen. But I had a plan. I wanted to fix what was broken.

  "Yeah, sorry about that. I'm glad you called. So, um, are you coming home for Christmas?"

  The hope in her voice made me smile. I wouldn't be another statistic. I wanted to be whole again.

  "Yup."

  She cleared her throat, making me wonder if she'd want to see me after all. "Do you need a ride? I can come pick you up. Wherever you're at, it doesn't matter."

  "Now boarding all passengers for flight 223 from Lubbock to San Angelo."

  Crap.

  "Nah, I'm flying home. I'll be there in a few hours, but I wanted to say Merry Christmas. Early, I guess." My throat burned, my lip quivered, and dammit all if I couldn't stop myself.

  "Heather, what's wrong?"

  I dropped my head and wiped my eyes with the palm of my hand.

  "I love you, sis." And miss you so much. Regardless of wanting them to continue or not, more tears fell from my eyes refusing to shut off. I looked like I'd sprung a leak.

  "I never stopped looking for you or believing in you." Her voice shook. "And I just want you back."

  "I'm sorry, Elle. I really am. I never wanted to hurt you, okay?" Before she could say more, I finished up. "Listen, I've got to go, but I'll see you soon."

  I disconnected the call before she could go on. I couldn't stand goodbyes.

  Boarding the plane, I found my seat near the window and slid in. I tried to keep from wringing my hands, but the tremors in them wouldn't stop. Resting my head against the hard cushion, I closed my eyes, thinking.

  I missed Elle, so much. Growing up we were more like best friends, always together. As a matter of fact, Dad and Mom couldn't tear us apart most days. Especially in the beginning when our parents fought.

  Elle used to hop in my bed next to me while I cried myself to sleep.
I looked to her for comfort.

  Then, when our parents divorced, Elle stepped up, taking our mom's place as nurturer. I resented that about her. I wanted my sister and I hated her for always having her shit together. Elle never cried or acted like our family falling apart bothered her. She was the perfect example of what a daughter should be.

  Then there was me. All I ever wanted was for the pain to go away. Guilt from thinking I did something wrong, or I wasn't good enough ate at me. Dad's continued absence drove me further from the people I loved most, Mom and Elle. Inside my head, my thoughts ticked like an emotional time bomb waiting for the right time to explode.

  Finally, it did. In the beginning and for only a few hours, the sadness and aching faded. The first time I got high, well, it scared the hell out of me. Only when I came down, the silent suffering forced its way back, with a vengeance. I immediately craved more time away. Before I knew what was happening, I was hooked.

  My future seemed useless, bleak. Pointless in setting goals, finding redemption and shit. But to be honest, getting clean scared the hell outta me, too. Still does, really.

  Without drugs, I viewed the world in hues of gray. Vibrant colors of life were too far out of reach for me to consider ever experiencing again. It wasn't until I found Tristan in the restaurant that I contemplated stopping. For once I wanted to be there for Elle.

  Elle

  My legs gave and I crumbled to my bed, staring at the phone. Heather was coming home.

  "Elle, are you coming down?"

  I snapped out of my daze.

  "Yeah. I'll be down in just a second, Mom." I shot a quick text to Tristan and Alyssa about my sister.

  Alyssa's text came across fast. Hell yeah! About damn time. Love you. Give her a big hug and kick in the ass for me when you see her. How's things with loser boy ;) Miss ya!

  I was in the middle of texting her back when another came through, this time from Tristan. Are you okay? Miss you. We need to talk…

 

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