by Emery Rose
A few months ago, I testified against Ronan Shaughnessy. It brought me closure. It gave me peace. He’s in a federal prison where he belongs. And my mother? I wish I could say that it all worked out, that removing Shaughnessy from her life would have forced her to realize everything she’d given up for that man. But it hadn’t worked out that way. She took off and we don’t know where she is. I know it hit Keira hard, but we’ve all tried to be there for her, to make up for her parents’ absence.
“I feel sorry for the man in the moon,” Ava says, looking up at the desert sky reeling with stars.
“He must be lonely.”
“And jealous.”
“They’re going to kill us,” she says, holding up her left hand to inspect the infinity symbol tattooed on her ring finger, identical to the one on mine. Ink is for life. Rings can be pawned, she’d reasoned, and I’d loved it that she wanted a symbol of forever. “But how fun was that?”
I laugh, envisioning our wedding ceremony at the Elvis chapel in Vegas. I couldn’t imagine doing it any other way. “If you want a big white wedding, we can do that when we get back.”
“I don’t. Eden’s wedding was great, but ours was perfect. It was just so… us.”
I smile in agreement as she climbs over the gearbox and straddles me, her arms wrapping around my neck, head tipped back, exposing the column of her neck. From the moon, we wouldn’t even be specks of dust, but from here we’re everything. The sun and the moon and the stars and all the planets.
“I love you to the stars and back,” she says, bringing her eyes to meet mine.
“I’ll love you until we’re old and gray and even long after that when our bodies decay… my soul will find yours… always.”
“Topper,” she mutters. I laugh, and she joins in, the sound of our joy echoing in the night air.
And in that moment, we are perfect, and we are whole.
The End
Also by Emery Rose
The Beautiful Series
Beneath Your Beautiful
Beautiful Lies
Preview of Beneath Your Beautiful
Chapter One
Eden
I brushed snow off my down jacket and laughed at the inflatable Santa hanging from the porch rafters as I opened the front door. Trevor, one of Luke’s housemates, was sitting on the sofa, feet propped on the coffee table, a slice of pizza in one hand and the remote in the other. “Hey, Trev.” I took off my beanie and let my blonde hair tumble down. “Studying hard for finals?” I joked.
He tossed the pizza in the box and vaulted over the back of the sofa.
“Impressive. Do you do that for all the girls?” I teased.
He ran a hand through his mussed-up hair, his eyes darting around the room, looking at everything except me. “What are you doing here? It’s Thursday.”
I laughed. “I’m not allowed to stop by on Thursdays? Is that a house rule?”
“You usually have class all day.”
True. I was playing hooky this afternoon. Luke’s text sealed the deal. Ditch your next class. I need you. Now. He’d never asked me to ditch class for sex. I was so thrilled he was finally letting out his inner rebel, I practically sprinted here. “Is he in his room?”
“Uh, no…he’s out.”
I furrowed my brow. “He said he’d be here.”
“Let’s go for a beer. I’m buying.”
“I’m still recovering from last night’s birthday celebration.”
“Hair of the dog.”
Hangover sex would be a better cure, but I kept that to myself. “I’ll wait in his room.” I breezed past him. “Catch you later.”
Trevor’s hand wrapped around my arm, and he tugged me back.
“You don’t want to go up there.”
I looked up the stairs, dread gnawing at my stomach. “Why not?” I whispered.
“Just…don’t do it.”
I shook off his arm and quietly climbed the stairs. As I crept down the hallway, voices came from Luke’s bedroom. His door was open a crack, and I stood outside it, straining my ears to hear.
“When are you going to tell her?” After three years of listening to Lexie’s voice in the dark while we talked late into the night, I knew it well.
“Soon,” Luke said. “I just need more time. I couldn’t tell her on her birthday. And with finals coming up…”
“This is making me crazy,” Lexie said. “I feel so guilty. Every time I look at her, I feel like she knows.”
I didn’t know. I had no idea.
This couldn’t be happening.
“Don’t cry, Lex. I’ll talk to her. It’s just…hard.”
Oh God. When? How? I wracked my brain, trying to figure out how any of this was possible.
“Do you still love her?” she asked, sniffling.
I squeezed my eyes shut, holding my breath as I waited for the answer. “I still care about her.”
He still cared about me? That was the best he could muster? In our senior year of high school, he’d begged me to come to Penn State with him. Like the fool I was, I had followed him to college, telling myself art was just a hobby. I could do it without the fancy degree. Not that my dad would have paid for art school. Still, I could have at least tried to get in, and I would have figured out a way to pay for it myself. But no, I had tossed the art school brochures into the trash.
All because Luke was my first love.
“Luke…I…there’s something I need to tell you.”
“What’s that?” His voice was muffled. Was his face buried in her hair? Was he holding her? Kissing her? My hands balled into fists, my nails digging into my palms. I struggled to get air into my lungs. My heart hurt so much, I could barely breathe.
“Promise you won’t get mad,” she pleaded. “It was an accident. I don’t even know how it happened. But…I’m pregnant.”
I leaned against the wall for support. Pregnant? She didn’t know how it happened? Bile rose up in my throat. I swallowed the bitterness and squared my shoulders.
Rage flooded my veins.
I pushed the door open, slamming it against the wall. Planting my hands on my hips, I took in the whole scene. Luke was spooning her, and she was facing the door, a smug smile on her face. She was triumphant, and not the least bit surprised to see me. Lexie must have sent that text from Luke’s phone. She was the winner, and she was thrilled at her victory.
Luke’s face was frozen in shock, his brown eyes wide, his mouth hanging open as if I’d caught him mid-sentence. The short layers of his golden-brown hair were ruffled like Lexie had been running her fingers through it. I diverted my gaze. I couldn’t bear to look at the boy I’d loved for five years. Five years.
“Did I interrupt?” I asked, surprised by how calm I sounded.
Luke rolled onto his back and covered his face with his hands. Coward. If their clothes strewn across the floor was any indication, he was naked under those covers. And now it became painfully clear why our sex life had dwindled over the past few months. He was getting it from someone else—my best friend.
“Eden…it’s not what you think.” He sounded so lame, I laughed harshly. “I can explain.”
“Save it for someone who cares.”
I loved you. How could you do this to me? And Lexie, that backstabber, had been my roommate since freshman year. I took her home with me for the holidays because she said her parents didn’t care about her. I let her borrow my clothes. My friends became her friends, and now, my boyfriend was her boyfriend.
My heart was shattering into so many pieces, I didn’t know how I’d put them back together. But I refused to give Lexie the satisfaction of seeing me break down. Time for action, not tears. I flung open Luke’s closet and reached inside for a baseball bat. I chose the Combat Maxum, a bat for power hitters, and came out swinging. Lexie cowered, hugging herself for protection.
I laughed. “Don’t worry, Lexie. You’re not worth an arrest for assault and battery.”
I walked out of the r
oom, my head held high. When I got into the hallway, I sprinted down the stairs and barreled out the front door. I flew down the front porch steps and rounded the corner, my feet slipping and sliding on the freshly fallen snow as I skidded to a halt in front of Luke’s silver BMW, a high school graduation present from his parents. Everything in Luke Prescott’s life had been handed to him on a silver platter. An only child of doting parents who put him on a pedestal, he was spoiled rotten. They should have given their son values instead of material possessions. Who got a BMW for graduating high school?
I swung the bat, and it connected with the hood. Crunch. Another mighty swing, and I took out a headlight. My body was coiled tight with rage. I needed to unleash it. Anger beat the alternative—curling up into a ball and crying enough tears to fill an ocean.
“Eden. Stop!” Luke yelled. I ignored him and swung at the other headlight. Bam! Bam! Bam! I kept swinging, metal crunching under my bat. Hell hath no fury like Eden Madley scorned. Not that I was a violent person. But I pictured Lexie’s triumphant smile, and it fueled my anger.
I raised the bat, ready to inflict more damage.
Luke wrapped his arms around me from behind and dragged me a safe distance away from the car. “What have you done?” Luke wailed, sounding like a big fat baby.
“The same thing you did to my heart.”
I struggled free of his hold and dropped the bat to the ground. Crisis averted, he moved closer to inspect the damage, brushing off the snow with his hands. It wasn’t nearly enough. But defeat and heartache had drained the fight right out of me. “I’m sorry,” he said, his back to me. He didn’t even have the guts to look me in the eye. “I’m really sorry, Eden.”
“Fuck you, Luke. Take your sorry and shove it up your ass.” I strode away, shoulders squared and head held high, trying to hang on to any shred of dignity I had left. Tears lodged in my throat, but I swallowed them. On the way over here, I’d thought the snow looked pretty. Like being inside a snow globe. Now the snow stung my face, impeding my progress. I burrowed into my jacket and stuffed my hands in my pockets.
“Hey, Eden,” Trevor called, jogging to catch up to me. He knew what was going on under their roof. I was the last to find out. Wasn’t that always the way? “For what it’s worth, I think you deserve a hell of a lot better. If you ever wanna grab a beer, call me.”
I nodded and kept walking, choking back the tears. I unclasped the bracelet Luke gave me for my twenty-second birthday yesterday, tossed it on the ground, and crushed it under the sole of my boot. It had come in a blue Tiffany’s box—a sterling silver charm bracelet with a heart medallion.
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Acknowledgments
Writing is a solitary pursuit but to bring a book baby into the world, it takes a village. I’m lucky to have found my tribe in the indie author community. It makes the journey so much easier and a lot more fun.
First of all, a big thank you to Maddie and Lillie for your unending patience and for putting up with all the hours I spend ‘daydreaming.’ Call me cheesy (I know you will) but I love you to the stars and back. To my beta readers—Petra Gleason, Eliza Ames, Annie Dyer—thank you for your time, your thoughts, and your encouragement, and for loving Connor and Ava as much as I do. And Annie, thanks for kicking me in the ass when I needed it. I hope I can return the favor one day.
To Ellie McLove, I’m so happy I found you. You’re stuck with me now and I’m not letting you go. Thank you for everything.
Sarah at Okay Creations, thank you for creating another gorgeous cover. It’s not just a photo, it’s a work of art. To Jessica Ames for the interior design, and for all the chats and moral support. Thanks for everything, Little Miss Sunshine. To Ena and Amanda of Enticing Journey for arranging the promotions. To all the book bloggers who took the time to read and review and share. I appreciate you and everything you do for the indie community.
To Emery’s Rambling Roses, my reader group, thank you for all your support!
And finally, a huge thank you to all the readers who took a chance on an unknown author. I hope you enjoyed reading Connor and Ava’s story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Stay tuned for the next book in the series, Beautiful Rush - Deacon and Keira’s story.
Connect with Emery
Emery Rose has been known to indulge in good red wine, strong coffee, and a healthy dose of sarcasm. She loves writing about sexy alpha heroes, strong heroines, artists, beautiful souls, and flawed but redeemable characters who need to work for their happily ever after.
When she’s not writing, you can find her binge-watching Netflix, trotting the globe in search of sunshine, or immersed in a good book. A former New Yorker, she currently lives in London with her two beautiful daughters and one grumpy but loveable Border Terrier.
You can find out more at www.emeryroseauthor.com
Join her Facebook group at www.facebook.com/groups/1918754445046550