EVERYTHING WRONG WITH US
a novel by:
Jaxson Kidman
Contents
Foreword
Stay social with Jaxson
The True Hearts Collection
Everything Wrong With Us
Dear You,
Hey -
THEN
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
NOW
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
ONE YEAR LATER
Epilogue
Hey darlin’
About the Author
From the soul of worldwide bestselling author Jaxson Kidman comes a full length stand alone novel about two people fighting guilt in the wrong way… only to find each other in the right way.
I loved her for her beauty, her flaws, her aching heart, and because her heart had so much more to give than she believed.
Written by Jaxson Kidman
* * *
Stay social with Jaxson
Readers List (part of the True Romance Obsession team): bit.ly/jk-readerslist
Jaxson Kidman Facebook fan page: www.bit.ly/JK-facebook
Jaxson Kidman Official Facebook group: www.bit.ly/jk-group
True Romance Obsession Facebook book page: www.bit.ly/TRO-facebook
Instagram @kidmanthejaxson
The True Hearts Collection
The True Hearts Collection are all stand alone novels, meaning they have no reading order. They are all different characters, settings, and come with their own complete ending. They are based on similar themes of second chance romances, hard pasts, and love that is real.
Each book in the series has been Top 100 in its category, with half the collection reaching the Top 100 of the ENTIRE Kindle store, including titles award as ‘Kindle Unlimited All-Star’ novels.
When you’re done reading EVERYTHING WRONG WITH US, start reading the True Hearts Collection:
(in order of publication date)
5 Years Later
Dear Everly,
Anna’s Dress
Let You Go
When I’m Gone
What You Don’t Know
Every Other Weekend (coming November 2018!)
Everything Wrong With Us
It’s all my fault.
My stepbrother is dead...
And I slept with his fiancée for comfort.
Everything is wrong.
All I want is to do something right, which is why I fix some woman’s car for free.
She’s not supposed to bother me about paying me back.
She’s not supposed to find the letter meant for someone else I lost.
Most of all, she’s not supposed to get to my heart.
As soon as I realize she’s in the same position as me, I know we both have a chance to finally move forward from the past, and from the mistakes.
Except for me, one mistake seems to be lingering… in the form of a positive pregnancy test.
Shit.
Dear You,
You never write back. I’ve been waiting for what feels like forever and you just don’t respond. I’m not supposed to get mad about that though. They all tell me not to get mad. That you can’t help it. That you literally cannot write back to me. I hate the word ‘literally’, I really do. I just don’t understand why you can’t talk to me. I’m not afraid of you. I’m not afraid of anything you would say to me. This makes no sense at all. We were supposed to be arm in arm right now. This is the time for everything. Everything we talked about. Everything we looked forward to. I’m so angry right now. I’m so hurt. And they tell me not to be like that. Especially around you. So, what, I’m supposed to be fake? I’m sure you deal with fake every second of your life. So why can’t I be real? I know that’s what you want. I know that’s what you need. But I can’t be there. I can’t see your blue eyes. I can’t touch you. I can’t tell you that I love you. I can’t tell you that I’m just as angry as you are. I can’t tell you that I’m sorry.
I can’t even tell you… goodbye.
Love,
Serafina
Hey -
Sometimes it’s weird to write this stuff down. I can’t remember the first time I ever actually wrote something down, but it still feels strange to do it now. I mean, I guess if it’s just me writing to me, that’s one thing. I can let myself go a little, if that makes sense. But to write to you, it’s something totally different. See, I want to find the words that could maybe shape you. Maybe words that will someday help you. I mean, if you ever feel like I do, it’s terrible. It’s lonely. You look around and see nothing but strangers who are supposed to be your family and friends. You feel like you can walk through walls like a ghost, but you smack your head off a family picture on the wall that’s so fake, it might as well just be the insert that comes with the frame when you buy it.
You probably have no idea what the heck I’m talking about, huh? I’m sorry about that. I’m rambling. I’m nervous. If you want the truth, you make me nervous. I don’t mean that in a bad way either. I’m just being honest with you. I guess I should stop writing weird crap and just tell you what’s going on right now. I fix cars and motorcycles now. I was lucky to get a decent enough job. I’m learning a lot right now too. I was able to get an old broken down pickup truck and fix it. But what I really want is my own ride. My own motorcycle. My boss helped me find a junker to fix up. He insists that learning how to appreciate junk makes you a better person. He says a lot of weird things to me, kind of like what I was saying earlier to you. I’m really excited about this motorcycle though. If I can get it running… wow, I’ll be able to ride a motorcycle to school. I’ll be super cool. Hey, maybe I can come and visit you. What do you think? I mean, you probably won’t be allowed to ride on the motorcycle with me, which I definitely understand. But it would still be cool to see, right? Maybe we can make that happen.
I should probably write more to you, but I have to get going. It’s Saturday morning at like, seven. Everyone I know is sleeping, but I’m going to head into the shop. I really want to figure out this motorcycle thing. I guess I just wanted to write to you real quick. I was thinking of you and promised myself that anytime I thought about you, I would write to you.
Check on you later,
Trev
THEN
Chapter 1
Trev
“Where are my fucking keys?” Matt yelled from across the half dead room.
An hour ago it had been a pretty wild party.
I wasn’t even exactly sure whose house we were at. It was just one of those nights. When your phone started to blow up with an address and what to bring. Of course I’d had my ride half taken apart, working on some repairs when Matt and Heath came bursting into the shop to tell me that we needed to go. I told them I needed a ride and then there I stood, watching ten people sleeping on the couches, chair
s and floor. A fire crackled in the fireplace and the giant speakers on the mantel were quiet after they’d been rumbling with music just a short while ago.
I nursed my red solo cup filled with whiskey, rubbing my jaw as I licked my lips, growling under my breath as I realized that I had wasted the fucking night worrying about everything else but the party. It had been swarmed with women and I should have been in one of the bedrooms, finding a way to casually climb out from under the sweaty sheets, leaving behind nothing but a whiskey laced memory for someone to wake up to tomorrow, and share with her friends at a red-faced breakfast.
Instead, my only friend had been that cup of whiskey that seemed to keep refilling itself over and over.
Matt walked right into an end table and a lamp flipped over and smashed onto the floor.
“The keys. Now.”
I sighed and pushed from the wall and wasted no time in grabbing Matt by the same stupid white t-shirt he used to wear to parties in high school. He claimed it was his lucky shirt because one night when he wore it, one of the hottest cheerleaders back then let him fool around with her. The problem now was that Matt had gone beyond the whole freshman fifteen to the thirty in your twenties, with no end in sight. He had a good, cushy life with Mom and Dad paying for everything he wanted and needed, meaning that he had no idea how to take care of himself.
I pulled him close to me like he was a child.
“Shut the fuck up, man,” I growled in his ear. “I have the fucking keys in my pocket. You’re not driving anywhere. You’re fucking wasted.”
Matt turned his head. “Fuck you, Trev. You’re just as drunk.”
“I know that. So grab a pillow or a roll of paper towel and sleep.”
“Eat shit,” he said.
He threw a weak elbow and I let him go. He turned to face me and waved his hands, throwing me the middle finger on both hands, making it three steps before tripping over nothing and slamming to the floor.
I walked into the kitchen and tossed my cup into the already full trash. It was a tragic sight to see the last little drop of whiskey in the bottom of the cup, but I needed to chug some water, give it a couple of hours, and then drive Matt and Heath home. They didn’t want to spend the night, even though they made me come to the fucking party.
I put my hands to the counter and thought about the new exhaust system I was working on. I should have just stayed at the shop and worked until it was done. But I figured a little distraction wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Except I didn’t get distracted by anything, other than myself.
“There’s the fucking king of boring.”
I turned and Heath stood with his arm around a short brunette. She clutched to his shirt to keep her balance.
Anger rose up in me as I looked from Heath to the woman.
“Janelle,” Heath said. “Business major. Wants to run a bunch of salons when she finishes up.”
My nostrils flared. “Good to know. Did you tell her about your fiancée?”
Heath’s face dropped. He released his hold on Janelle and leaned down and whispered something to her. She giggled and stutter stepped away.
“Night’s over,” I said. “We’re leaving in a bit.”
“What the fuck is your problem?” Heath asked.
He came at me and I was ready.
He was my fucking stepbrother and the whole love-hate thing had gone on for years and years. He was the clean-cut, good boy football player who got a free ride into college. I was the dirty loser who would rather have a drink and work on a motorcycle. Everything about us was opposites. He hated me for that. I hated him for that. But, we were brothers. We had to deal with our parents’ constant bullshit and we could never get rid of one another.
Heath grabbed my shirt and I quickly swung my hands to break his hold. I shoved at his chest and he flew back, hitting the fridge so hard that a glass bowl on the top danced and came crashing down, shattering.
“Party foul!” someone shouted from the living room.
“Fuck you,” I said.
I turned my head, which was a mistake.
I gave Heath an opening and he took it, clocking me in the jaw.
I felt a pop inside my mouth and little black stars swirled around my eyes as I reached for the counter.
“You fucking mention Becca ever again and I’ll kill you,” he said.
As I rubbed my jaw, Heath brought back another fist.
I never gave him the chance for a second shot.
I jumped forward and slammed my shoulder into his chest and drove him back to the counter. I inched back and threw an uppercut, hitting his jaw.
“Sacked,” I said. “Just like last week, right?”
“I’m going to destroy you, bro.”
Heath stepped and I put my hand out. Just below his throat.
He gritted his teeth, his bottom lip bleeding.
“Did you fuck that chick?” I asked.
“What’s it matter to you?” he asked.
“You’re engaged, man.”
“Engaged ain’t married.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“What? I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“What would Becca think of you with your arm around another woman?”
“I was just helping her walk,” he said.
He had that classic cocky grin. The one you wanted to punch, but in a way you could never get mad at him.
“I’d hate to see her fall and bump her head.”
“You’re an asshole, Heath,” I said.
“Fuck off, Trev.”
“Yeah, great. You proposed to Becca. And now you’re playing games?”
“First off, I only proposed because I thought she was pregnant. And she loves me too much to let her down now. Plus, I love her. I’m going to marry her. Just a few wild hairs left to take care of. And I asked her to come. She’s too busy studying for law school. Fancy pants.”
I shook my head. “You have a fiancée that loves you that much. That’s studying to go to law school to support your dumb ass because she knows you’re not going anywhere with football. Yet you can’t figure that out for yourself.”
Heath laughed. “Man, when you get jealous you sound just like a bitch.”
My left hand balled up into a fist. Me and Heath became stepbrothers when we were just five years old. So we knew all the tricks and knew how to get at each other easily.
“You two done messing around here?” a slurred voice asked.
It was Matt, shuffling through the kitchen like a zombie.
“Dude, you’re bombed,” Heath said.
“Just find my keys,” Matt said. “I gotta go home.”
“He’s not driving,” I said to Heath. “I’m going to wait it out a couple of hours and I’ll drive.”
“Fuck that,” Heath said. “I want to go home to my fiancée. Since my stepbrother wants to cock block me here and ruin the moment, I’d better get home and show Becca what she had been missing.”
“Really nice,” I said. “You never fail to amaze me, Heath.”
“Whatever,” he said.
He pushed away from me.
“Come on,” Matt said. “We’re leaving now.”
“Soon,” I said.
“Now,” Heath said.
He lifted his right hand and showed a set of keys.
He had swiped them from my pocket when we were tangled up.
“Bro,” I said.
“I’m fine,” he said and started to laugh.
“Don’t fuck around right now,” I said.
“I’m not. I’m driving home to my fiancée. Just what you wanted me to do, Trev. Right?”
“You can drive my car,” Matt said.
“Oh, I plan on it,” Heath said. “Go and get in the car, Matt.”
“Heath,” I growled.
He stopped at the trashcan and lifted up the cup that I threw out. “Now that’s alcohol abuse.” He swirled the cup around, staring at me. “Getting soft, huh? Can’t drink like
a big boy?”
“Heath, I swear…”
He threw the cup back and gave me the finger.
He chugged the whiskey, which was probably a shot’s worth.
He dropped the cup and walked away.
Next thing I knew, we were standing at Matt’s car. Matt was across the backseat, already asleep.
I snatched Heath’s arm. “Let Matt sleep it off. Let’s go back inside for a couple of hours.”
“No,” he said.
“We’ve been drinking, bro.”
“So what?”
“Heath… this isn’t high school.”
Heath pulled at my shirt. “You want the truth? I couldn’t get it up.”
“What?”
“When I was with that woman. I thought I could have a little thing, just to blow off steam. But I couldn’t get it up. Because of how much I love Becca. I really love her, Trev. Okay?”
“Then what the fuck are you doing?”
“I don’t know,” Heath growled. “Okay? I love her. I’m going to marry her. We’re going to have kids. I don’t need you to tell me that I won’t make it pro with football. I get that. So maybe I’m just fucking lost right now, okay? Maybe I need my goddamn brother to tell me it’s going to be okay.”
“Shit,” I whispered. “Heath…”
“No,” he said. “You can go and fuck yourself, Trev. I’m driving to Becca. I’m going to tell her that I love her. I’m going to do everything I can to support her through law school. And I’ll figure my shit out.”
He looked ready to cry.
“Let me drive,” I said.
“Fuck no,” Heath said. “You’re drunk, Trev. You don’t think you are… but you are.”
“That’s why I said to give me a couple of hours.”
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