The One (The Halo Series Book 2)

by Kimberly Knight

  Contents

  A note from the Author

  1. Nicole

  2. Avery

  3. Nicole

  4. Avery

  5. Nicole

  6. Avery

  7. Nicole

  8. Avery

  9. Nicole

  10. Avery

  11. Nicole

  12. Avery

  13. Nicole

  14. Avery

  15. Nicole

  16. Avery

  17. Nicole

  18. Avery

  19. Nicole

  20. Avery

  21. Nicole

  22. Avery

  23. Nicole

  24. Avery

  25. Nicole

  26. Avery

  27. Nicole

  28. Avery

  29. Nicole

  30. Avery

  31. Nicole

  32. Avery

  33. Nicole

  34. Avery

  35. Nicole

  36. Avery

  Note From The Author

  Acknowledgments

  Books By Kimberly Knight

  About the Author

  Exclusive excerpt of NEVER STOP

  Chapter One

  No portion of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any print or electronic form without permission.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, any place, events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The subject matter is not appropriate for minors. Please note this novel contains profanity, explicit sexual situations, and alcohol consumption.

  The One

  Copyright © 2018 Kimberly Knight

  Published by Knight Publishing & Design, LLC

  Cover art © by Okay Creations

  Formatting © by Mermaid Publishing House

  All rights reserved.

  Please note this is the second book in the Halo Series. For more of a back story, you may want to read Brooke and Easton’s story in Tattooed Dots before you start Avery and Nicole’s in this book. Each book can be read as separate stories.

  To everyone searching for The One: Keep searching because you never know where you’ll meet him or her.

  “What I really need right now is a double shot of any alcohol within reach,” I said, scolding myself out loud as I stood in front of my bathroom mirror.

  What was wrong with me?

  Did I need to wear a shirt that read: “I’m single!” on the front? Why was the dating world so fucking hard?

  I’d been seeing Jeff on and off for a few weeks, and today I found out that he’d had a girlfriend the whole time. Seriously, what the fuck? So I did what any single twenty-nine-year-old would do. I called my other single girlfriends and told them to meet me at the bar. It was Friday night and I knew the best way to forget about a guy was with the help of my buddies: Jack, Jameson, Jim, Jose, Morgan, and whatever other brand of alcohol caught my eye.

  I dressed in a short black skirt, plum sparkly tank top and the highest black fuck me heels I had that wouldn’t kill my feet. Well, at least until I could no longer feel my body because of all the alcohol I planned to consume at the bar. Tonight, it was all about dancing with my girls and getting free drinks from guys.

  Fuck guys!

  I was tired of falling for a guy only to have my heart broken. I was done. No more dating.

  Who was I kidding? What I was really tired of was being alone.

  As I put the finishing touches of my make-up on, and made sure that my straight, long blonde hair and bangs were perfect, a text buzzed my cell. Jenna:

  Jenna: Where are you? There’s a shot of Fireball here for you. My treat.

  Me: I’m coming. Taxi just got here.

  I left my condo, jumped in the waiting taxi, and headed toward The Bell in Hand. By the time I arrived, it was packed. I squeezed through all the sweaty bodies, walking towards the bar where I found Jenna and Kym.

  “You two started without me?” I asked, coming up behind them.

  They turned at the sound of my voice. “Jesus, it’s about time your ass got here. You have some catching up to do,” Kym said.

  “Trust me, I plan on it.” I downed the shot of Fireball that Jenna handed me then tried to catch the bartender’s eye for another by holding up the empty shot glass.

  “Is Brooke coming?” Kym asked.

  “No, I didn’t invite her. You know how she is now. She only drinks one night a week, and tomorrow’s her birthday party so she doesn’t want to be hungover. I, of course, have no problem being hungover and trying to bowl at her bowling party. I suck anyway,” I said, shrugging and finally grabbing the bartender’s eye. I motioned for another round and he turned to grab the bottle of whiskey.

  “Sorry about Jeff,” Jenna said.

  “Thanks. At least I found out now and not months down the road. Plus, tomorrow, I can flirt with Brooke’s co-worker, Mike. I’ve wanted that fine piece of ass since Christmas.” The bartender poured the four shots for us and I handed him my card. “Keep it open,” I yelled over the thump of the music. He nodded and walked away.

  “Well, let’s drink until you forget what’s-his-name,” Kym said, downing the shot of Fireball.

  “That’s the plan.” The cinnamon whiskey burned my insides as it went through my belly. Damn that’s good shit!

  A guy got up and left his barstool next to us, so I swooped in, snagging it before a mob of people saw it. My feet were already hurting and it hadn’t even been fifteen minutes. I needed more to drink and fast.

  We ordered another round, my body heating up as the whiskey flowed through my veins. Before long, we’d be out on the dance floor, hoping to catch the eye of any man willing to buy us more drinks. After all, that was why we really came to the bar. Guys came to fuck. Women came to score free drinks. Okay, some women did end up fucking these guys, but they were idiots. You take the drink (always from the bartender, not from the guy himself…learned that one the hard way in my early twenties), bat your eyelashes, maybe dance with them, then go to the bathroom to freshen up for ten minutes. He’d move on to someone else, and you could start the cycle all over again with another victim … I mean guy.

  “Excuse me,” a male voice said, tapping me on the shoulder. I turned, ready to tell him that yes, in fact, I would like a drink. “It’s hot in here. Do you mind sitting on my jacket for me? I don’t want to carry it around.”

  What?

  What in the—?

  What the fuck?

  “Excuse me?”

  “Can you sit on my jacket?” he repeated.

  “You want me to sit on your jacket?” Who asks that?

  “Sorry, if you don’t plan to be here long, I can hold it, but they have no coat check.”

  “You want me to sit on your jacket?” I asked again, looking at the guy as if he’d lost his mind.

  “Yes, please. I know it sounds weird.”

  “Um…you think?” I chuckled.

  “How about I buy you a drink for payment?”

  I stared at him for a beat. See why I needed a shirt that read that I was single? He was cute with his spiky brown hair and green eyes. Maybe he had a girlfriend. Maybe he was gay. Why the hell was he asking me to sit on his jacket?

  “Yeah, sure. I’ll take a vodka cranberry and a shot of Fireball.” If he wanted my nice ass sitting on his jacket holding it for him, then I was the one with the bargaining power.

  “Thank you so much.” He flagged the bartender and ordered my drinks. “I didn’t want to have to carry it around all night.”

  Jacket-man left after paying the barte
nder and giving me his jacket. I turned back to my friends, shaking my head as I stood up, placed the jacket on the stool then sat down on top of it.

  Let’s hope I drink enough tonight to forget about this awkward situation.

  “See why I’m going to ward off men?” I asked, trying to keep a straight face. I was sitting on someone’s jacket for Christ’s sakes!

  “You know what you need?” Kym asked.

  “B.O.B. and a Costco pack of batteries?”

  “Yes, but also, my cousin Rachel met her husband on a singles cruise. You should try that.”

  “A what?” I questioned, my eyebrows furrowed as I tried to wrap my head around what she was suggesting. This was new to me. I’d heard of a singles cruise before but didn’t think anyone my age went on them.

  “A cruise for single people.”

  “I don’t know. That seems…”

  “Awesome. I’d do it if I could afford it,” Jenna said then took a sip of her Amaretto sour.

  I could afford it. I made good money as a nurse, but I wasn’t going to go on a ship by myself. These two bitches had no money and who I truly wanted to go with me had a loser of a boyfriend. Then, a thought popped into my head. I still needed to buy Brooke a birthday present. I wouldn’t tell her it was a singles cruise until she couldn’t back out.

  I woke up in my bed. Thank the Lord because I didn’t remember much of the night. I remembered Jacket-man, but I didn’t remember if Jacket-man had ever come back for his jacket.

  I groaned, my head pounding from drinking too much. I rolled over and onto something next to my pillow that crinkled and smelled like a man. I opened my eyes, noticing the black leather. Holy shit, I stole Jacket-man’s jacket. Serves that idiot right. I could use a nice leather jacket.

  I stumbled out of bed, still a little hungover from the night before. After pressing the brew button on the coffee pot, I jumped in the shower and washed the smell of must, alcohol, and smoke from my body. After a nice long shower—and once the coffee started to overpower my hangover—I booted up my computer to search for a singles cruise to somewhere warm.

  As I waited for my laptop to boot up, I grabbed Jacket-man’s jacket and searched the pockets. I didn’t remember if I had the night before and since it was now my jacket, I wanted to see if there was anything good in it.

  The first pocket I checked was empty. Moving on to the next, my fingers brushed along something flimsy and plastic. Pulling out a tiny baggie, I noticed that there was a small amount of white powder inside.

  Holy shit. No wonder he wanted me to have his jacket. The night before could have turned out completely different and landed my ass in jail.

  I ran to my bathroom to flushed the powder down the toilet then rinsed out the baggie and tossed it in the trash. After I checked every pocket in the jacket and there was nothing else, I hung it in my closet and returned to my computer.

  I couldn’t believe I was going to trick Brooke into going, but there was no other way. She wasn’t single—even though I’d told her a million times to dump her loser boyfriend. If I had to end up begging, I would. I was tired of meeting losers with girlfriends. Of course, meeting someone on a singles cruise wasn’t much better. I mean, if I did meet someone, no telling where he would live.

  I started to second guess myself as I scrolled through the list of cruises on the website I found, but I wasn’t getting any younger and what if? What if a singles cruise was where I’d meet my future husband? Anything was possible.

  I finally found something I could convince Brooke to go on. It was a cruise out of the Los Angeles area that went to the Mexican Rivera for eight nights and seven days. The icing on the cake was that it was during Spring Break. I’d noticed on Brooke’s sister’s Facebook page that she and some friends were going to Cabo San Lucas for Spring Break during that same week. Brooke’s sister was off at college in California and Brooke only saw her during holidays, so it was meant to be. Fate as some people called it.

  I paid for the cruise, not thinking about it any longer. Worst case, this trip was going to be a vacation with my best friend. Best case, I would find the one. It was a win-win no matter what happened.

  After waiting almost thirty minutes for Brooke’s loser boyfriend to be ready to go to dinner for his girlfriend’s birthday, we made it to the restaurant—late. After enough food and cheesecake that I was sure would make me gain five pounds, we left to go bowling. I hated bowling, but I was sucking it up for my best friend. Brooke hadn’t had the best upbringing, so when she told me that she’d always wanted to have a bowling party for her birthday, I couldn’t deny her.

  We broke into teams of boys versus girls and even though Brooke swore she was good, she wasn’t. I sucked at bowling and Brooke’s girlfriends sucked at bowling too.

  We were screwed.

  I sat back, watching the boys kick our asses, and decided I needed to come up with some sort of distraction plan. Plus, I was about ready to strip Mike of all his clothes if I watched him bend over one more time in front of me.

  “Hey, Mike,” I said, standing near him as he waited for his ball to come out of the ball return. I reached out and stroked his arm, squeezing his biceps a little, and trying to flirt with him to distract him. “How do you throw the ball so hard? Do you work out?”

  So my flirting wasn’t that good, but what I knew would get him was when I bit my lower lip. All guys loved that shit. Their gaze would drop down to my mouth as if they couldn’t think of anything but kissing me.

  “I do,” he said, his gaze lowering to my lips.

  “Maybe you can show me how well you’ve built up your stamina?”

  “Yeah, maybe,” he said, his gaze now lowering to my chest. I knew my low-cut emerald green tank top would pay off.

  “Maybe we could get some air?” I suggested, tilting my head towards the side doors that led to the parking lot.

  “Yeah, maybe,” he said again, finally looking back up to my blue eyes.

  “Maybe I’ll go after this game and you could maybe happen to see me outside?”

  “Mike, dude, go already!” one of the guys shouted behind me.

  “I better go,” Mike said, picking up his bowling ball. “The game’s almost over.”

  I turned around to go back to my seat, noticing Brooke at the bar with Jared and some other girl I’d never seen before. Brooke was showing Jared a lot of affection—something they never really did in public. Maybe the alcohol was making her frisky.

  Finally the game ended and everyone decided to take a break before the next game. I eyed Mike and nodded towards the doors that led to the side parking lot. He nodded in agreement and I left, grabbing my leather jacket, and went to stand in the cold winter air.

  A minute later, Mike came out the glass double doors and walked towards me. “Fancy meeting you out here.” I smiled, smoke from the freezing air leaving my mouth as I spoke.

  Without saying a word, Mike grabbed the back of my neck and brought his lips to mine. He tasted like beer. His lips were soft and he smelled like the ocean and all man. I moaned as he backed me against the brick wall, his free hand cupping my ass over my jeans.

  Our tongues dueled, and I pressed my hips into him, telling him that I wanted more. I wanted more and I didn’t care that we were on the side of a bowling alley in the dead of winter. Mike was hot and I’d been watching him bend over for an hour as he threw a damn bowling ball.

  Damn he has a nice ass.

  Mike pressed his hips to mine, his erection stiff in his jeans, and our mouths still tasting each other. His hand slowly made its way down my neck to my breast and he cupped one in his hand.

  “Wait,” I said, breaking our mouths apart. He pulled back, looking me in the eyes. “We can’t do this. What was I thinking?”

  “Why not?” he asked, both of us panting and trying to catch our breath.

  “It’s Brooke’s birthday. I can’t ditch her.”

  “This was your idea,” he said, still pressed against me.


  “I know. I’m sorry. We can go back to my place after the last game.”

  “All right.”

  “Shit, no. My car’s at Brooke’s and we’re supposed to go to breakfast in the morning for her real birthday, then spend the whole day together.”

  “I’ll make sure you’re awake,” he said, nipping my bottom lip with his teeth.

  While it was tempting, I really couldn’t let my best friend down, especially when I wanted her to go on the cruise with me. I knew Mike was only a hook-up. He had player written all over him, but man, did I want to know how it felt to be under his hard body.

  “Give me your phone. I’ll program my number and you can call me tomorrow night so we can finish what we started.”

  “Sure,” he said, digging into his pocket for his phone. I watched him adjust himself.

  Dammit!

  Could this be it?

  Could this be when I’m going to meet the one? The one I’ll spend forever with?

  I’d always been a hopeless romantic; always searching for that special girl to spend my life with. Wanting to know what it felt like to find that one person to share every secret with, to share my dreams with, to have someone care for me no matter what mistakes I made. Someone to spend forever with.

  I was human…and I was a guy. I was bound to fuck up. I had with past relationships, but I was ready to find the one. I was tired of going to bed alone or going on dates that lead nowhere. I was a good catch. I owned a successful bar with my best friend, Easton, owned my own townhouse, had decent money saved up, had a decent body that I worked on at the gym, and I was an admirable dude.