by Stacey Lewis
“I’ve got this,” I reassure him…well, more like shrug off his concern. A raucous group of drunk birthday partiers can either mean better tips or if it’s frat boys, awful ones. Taking a few extra seconds to study my hair in the mirrored back of the bar, I pull on each of my pigtails to tighten them.
It’s easy to see which guys are the birthday party because one is wearing one of those ridiculous cone-shaped hats little kids wear. His friends are laughing at the open-mouthed awe on his face as he looks around at all the more-than-half naked or almost completely naked girls walking around the room. I walk up to the table to take their orders, and look around the table at each of the guys. My eyes freeze on the one sitting directly across from where I’m standing. All the guys are attractive, but this one is a whole other level of hot. He’s got shaggy light brown hair, a little longer than it should be. In fact, it looks like he’s way overdue for a cut. His eyes though, they’re what I’m stuck on. They’re framed by long, thick lashes and the color…ohmigod. The color is a bluish green, almost turquoise. I’ve never seen eyes that color naturally, and quickly decide he’s wearing contacts; he has to be. This guy is already too attractive for words, and no guy should be that hot. He’s wearing a light blue button down dress shirt, no tie, with the sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms to show off the colorful tattoos taking up just about every inch.
The whooping of his friends when a new girl comes out onto the stage jolts me out of my trance, and I turn to the birthday boy and smile, turning up the southern accent. “Hi, I’m Scarlett. What can I get y’all tonight?”
His face falls a little. “Aren’t you gonna card me?” Ah, so it’s the twenty-first. Funny, I thought girls were the only ones who pouted because they weren’t carded. Plus, it’s not like he didn’t get carded when he came in. If he wasn’t twenty-one, they wouldn’t have been able to bring their alcohol in the building.
“I was getting to that,” I lie smoothly, still feeling Mr. Hot Guys eyes on me. Birthday Boy grins, making a big show of pulling his wallet out of his back pocket and handing me his license. “Well, look at that.” I pretend to be shocked by his age. “Happy birthday! Now, what can I get ya?” It’s a lot easier to serve them when they’ve brought their own alcohol.
He hands me a bottle of cheap vodka, and requests shot glasses for everyone at the table. I take the bottle and make my around the table taking orders and bottles from everyone else. Most of the bottles are variations of the same, tequila, vodka, and one douchebag even hands me a bottle of Jäger. Yes, drinking shots of Jägermeister makes you an automatic douche before you say another word.
Hot Guy surprises me, handing me a bottle of Woodford Reserve, something college boys don’t normally have the budget or the taste buds for. Once I’ve gotten all the orders, I rush back over to the bar so I can fill them and bring their glasses.
As soon as I start setting the myriad of bottles on the bar, Scott’s eyes start rolling in sympathy. “Jesus, that table sounds like frat boy central. Sorry, babe, your tips are going to suck.”
I shrug, knowing he’s probably right, but unable to think about anything but the guy with the blue-eyes. I give him the rest of the orders, and when I show him the hot guys bottle, his brows go up. “Well, maybe it won’t be a total loss then, huh?” He grins at me, and I smile back in return.
As soon as their order is ready, I head back to the table, careful not to trip on the higher than I’m used to wearing heels. I quickly pass out the drinks, making sure not to linger or make eye contact with the hot guy. Birthday boy finishes his shots before I’m done passing everyone else’s out, and when I stand beside him, he looks up at me with a goofy grin on his face Boy clearly can’t hold his alcohol if three shots has already gone to his head. Either that or they did quite a bit of pre-gaming before coming here tonight.
“It’s my birthday.”
I laugh along with his friends. One of the guys says, “You already told her that dumbass.”
“Oh yeah,” he says, the goofy grin still on his face. “Can I get a dance?”
The smile on my face this time is genuine. “Sure, birthday boy. Which girl would you like?”
“Can I have you?” The way he says it sounds like he’s asking for much more than a dance, but before I can decline a sound comes from across the table. We all turn to look at the hot guy. He’s glaring so hard at his friend, like he’s ready to kick his ass right here for reasons I don’t understand. Birthday boy looks confused, his head moving from side to side as he looks between us. “Brax?”
A name…I have his name now. I want to squee at the thought, at least in my head, but Brax answers BB’s, because I refuse to refer to him as “birthday boy” in my head anymore, unasked question. “You can’t get a dance from her. She’s our waitress, not a dancer. Pick someone else.”
BB pouts for just a second, and I roll my eyes at just how young he looks. When I’m finished, I lock eyes with Brax, and I can feel the blush cross my cheeks knowing he saw me. Rolling your eyes at the ridiculousness of a customer isn’t the way to get a tip. I can hear BB debating with himself over which girl to choose, and finally he points towards one.
I look over and see he’s requesting Clary. “Oh, she’s a good choice,” I assure him. “She’s one of our best dancers, and she loves to give birthday dances.” His grin widens, and I yell Clary’s stage name to get her attention.
She walks over, eyes locked on the silly hat, and stops beside me, wrapping an arm around my waist. “You shouted?”
“Yes ma’am, I did. This birthday boy would love a dance from you this evening. He just turned twenty-one.” Her smile widens, and I turn to the guy practically drooling as he stares at her. “This is Ari,” a name close enough to Clary, and similar to the Disney princess mermaid she tries to emulate—minus the red hair of course. “She’ll be happy to entertain you.”
Clary immediately steps forward and gestures for BB to move his chair out. As soon as he does, she moves in between his chair and the table and begins to sway her hips, running her fingers through her long hair. That’s my cue to go, so I take my tray and go check in on my other tables.
The night passes pretty quickly, thanks to full tables and lots of drink orders, and before I know it, it’s time for me to take a break. I drop my tray off with Scott and walk down the short hallway that leads to a small deck off the side of the building. It’s the place smoker’s come to get their fix, but there’s enough space out here that I can relax in the somewhat fresh air without gagging on nicotine.
It’s even better when I walk out, letting the door shut behind me, and see that the deck is empty save for two people who are much more interested in their cigarettes than me. I walk over to the side furthest from the door, bracing my arms on the railing as I look out at the lights from downtown Nashville. We’re only a few blocks out, but they’re so pretty. Inhaling a deep breath, I shut my eyes and just enjoy the quiet.
Want to know what happens next? Preorder the book on your favorite retailer!
I tried to be the perfect daughter and fiancee, but after the people who are supposed to love me the most betrayed me, those days are done.
* * *
I’m ready for a fresh start - and this time a relationship won’t define who I am.
* * *
That means:
No men.
No complications.
No turning back.
* * *
At least, that was the plan before I met him.
* * *
He wants me…
And he’s not about to take no for an answer.
* * *
Get your copy or turn the page to read the beginning
Prologue
Standing in the doorway of my fiancé’s bedroom, I know I should be shocked and angry but I can’t even work myself up to surprise. Aria tried to warn me this was happening, but I wouldn’t listen to her. I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t want to believe that after everything that’s ha
ppened over the last ten months he would do something like this to me. Was “the accident” as he refers to it not enough of a blow? Now, I have to deal with this too?
Without saying a word, I back out of his bedroom and pull the door closed. Does it make me a coward that I didn’t interrupt him and the buxom blonde on top of him? Even if it does, I’m past the point of even giving a damn. I’ve been numb for months now. Numb to everything, everyone, and every situation.
Making my way silently through his apartment, I pick up the things that mean the most to me. I grab the blanket my grandmother made for me when I was little - it always made more sense for it to be here, I spent most of my time at his apartment once we were engaged. Stopping in the kitchen, I pick up the “Journalists do it on deadline” mug that Aria got me for my birthday last year, and after grabbing a few more things, I realize the noise in the bedroom has stopped. Knowing I don’t have long before someone interrupts me, or just finds me and forces me to deal with this, I practically sprint for the door.
Coming home to my upscale Manhattan apartment that I hate but my mother pays for; I lean my head back against the door and close my eyes. I just want to go back and restart this god-awful day. The past year has brought a few ups, a lot of downs, and heartaches that can break a person just by having to experience one of them. Me? I’m so lucky I get to experience them all one after the other like a row of dominoes falling into each other. I never used to understand why people would decide they didn’t want to go on living, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned this year, it’s that the whole “God doesn’t give you more than you can handle” platitude thrown around by people who have never been through what you have, is a load of crap. Because, if that’s the case, he obviously thinks I’m a bad ass.
Once I’ve calmed my breathing, I head into the living room and sit down on the couch to call my sister. I’m sure she’s been expecting this phone call since she left my apartment earlier this afternoon. Aria answers the phone before the first ring even finishes, “Lyric? Are you okay?”
“How long have you known?” There should be some kind of anger in my voice, right? It shouldn’t sound so flat, so lifeless.
She sighs, her next words come fast, like she’s trying to reassure me. “I saw them at a cafe on Lexington this morning. I swear Lyric, that’s the first time I knew anything.” Well, at least my sister didn’t keep it a secret. She was over here at lunch to tell me about it. “I’m guessing you confronted him then?”
“No A, I didn’t get the chance to confront him.” Not that I’m sure I would have anyway. “I went over to his apartment and when I walked in, I could hear them in the bedroom. After I saw it for myself, I grabbed some of my stuff on my way out.”
“Seriously, Lyric? You didn’t do or say anything? You didn’t rip him a new one, or beat her ass? You saw them in bed together and just left?!” She sounds really confused, but I don’t know how to explain my reaction to her. I know the normal response to finding your fiancé in bed with another woman is not to calmly gather your things and leave, but that’s exactly what I did.
“Why would I fight her? “Why should I fight for him? For all I know, she knows nothing about me.” I don’t get how this is the girl’s fault. Matt’s the one at fault in this situation.
Aria lets out a frustrated groan, making me roll my eyes, “Do I need to send Edward and Phillip to talk to him?”
I don’t hold back the snort at that mental picture. “Talking” is so not what she means. And while my stepbrothers are awesome, they aren’t exactly the uber-macho type. Well, Edward isn’t at any rate. He’d probably refuse to punch him because he might ruin his suit. If he did, his wife Grace would probably kill him. I don’t even think she lets their two kids get dirty. Phillip would probably beat him down though. He’s extremely protective over Aria, Kaitlin and I. Kaitlin’s starting her freshman year at NYU later this month, and I fully expect Phillip to follow her around growling at every guy who looks in her direction.
To answer Aria’s question though, “No, sending the two of them over there won’t accomplish anything. I’ll handle it.”
“Right. Sure you will,” Aria sounds beyond skeptical, but I need to do this my way.
We talk for a few more minutes, mainly about my last semester in college. I ended up taking a semester off after everything happened last year, so instead of graduating last spring, I’ll be graduating around Christmastime. Finally, I’m able to get my sister off the phone. I sit on the couch staring blankly at the TV and look into my empty eyes reflected back in the blank, black screen.
Want to know what happens next? Grab the book on your favorite retailer!
Acknowledgments
Ahhh! We’re here again! 2015 and 2016 have been so difficult for me in terms of writing, and life in general. Some days I didn’t think this book would ever be finished. So, for everyone who made it possible:
* * *
Stephen, AJ, Jake: Bless you. You put up with my crazy, the conversations I have in my head (and sometimes out loud) with fictional people, the lack of laundry getting washed, dishes being done, dinners made, and time missed. I wouldn’t be able to do what I do without your understanding and support. I love you all, to the moon and back.
* * *
Melanie: I sort of thanked you already in the dedication, but you only get so much space there. Seriously, you keep me sane(ish?). I don’t know what I would do without you, and I’m glad I never have to find out. You get me in a way no one else ever has and you have this uncanny ability to know exactly what I need to hear to keep me from jumping off that ledge I’m constantly hanging onto by my fingernails. You’re my voice of reason and my brutally honest critique partner. My plot lines are better because I have you to talk them through with. I love you more than Bennett & Max, more than Sean & Peter, more than TM—well, you get the picture :)
* * *
Stefanie: You do an amazing job keeping me on task and making sure the business side of my life runs smoothly. I don’t envy you that job at all. I know I’m a spazzy mess 99.9% of the time. Thank you for putting up with my crazy, my mostly absent mind, and most of all for being my friend.
* * *
Jen, Debi, Crystal and Andrea: #CastawayCar4Life. I would get lost in a car with you in the middle of NYC (or anywhere else) on any day of the week. For reals. You make me laugh till I cry (the British chocolate doesn’t hurt either lol). Until the next adventure!
* * *
P: Where do I even start? You’ve quickly become one of my favorite people to talk to, and I have so much fun when I’m with you. Thank you for the conversations, calming my neurotic self, Tumblr GIF’s, and well, you know what else. You’ve done wonders for my self-confidence, and you make me feel things I’d forgotten I needed to.
* * *
Annie: I love and adore you in so many ways. You took a chance on me and read Save Me From Myself, and even though you’ve claimed David for life, you’ve fallen for each of my other characters as well. We’ll always have Boston — and the Cape (even if I got next to no writing done that week because I was too busy having fun!) I’ll be here anytime you want to yell at me for what I’ve done to characters, or to read the reviews you’re writing, even when they add to my never-ending TBR list. PS - I can’t wait to spoil Alyx!
* * *
The bloggers: Thank you! Thank you for posting about a cover reveal, putting up a review, pimping a release, etc. You guys are all so supportive, and I don’t know how I’d manage without everything you all do. The amount of work you do to help authors is so appreciated.
* * *
The readers: From the very bottom of my heart—Thank you for picking up even just one of my books. Words can’t even begin to express how much I appreciate each and every one of you. It amazes me on a daily basis that people want to read the words I write, and it’s because of you all that any of this is possible. All my love <3
About the Author
Stacey is the New York Times & US
A Today Bestselling Author of Second Chances, Shadows of the Past (co-authored with H.M. Ward), the Nashville Secrets series, and the Nashville U series.
She’s also the single mom of three amazingly crazy boys and since she’s a transplanted Yankee, considers herself a big city girl living in a small town. Because she can’t live in the cities she loves – Nashville, New York, Chicago – she writes about people who do instead. When she isn’t writing, you can usually find her curled up with a sexy book, or more accurately, scrolling through Tumblr. She also isn’t afraid to admit her favorite addictions: Tumblr GIF’s, social media, Spotify, Dr. Pepper, and of course, dirty books. Hunky heroes with control issues and strong heroines who stand up to them are her weakness. She loves to talk books – not just her own – with anyone, so send her a message!
Want to know what's coming next? Sign up for her Newsletter to be the first to hear up new releases, sales and get exclusive content too!
Where you can find her:
staceylewis.com
Also by Stacey Lewis
Nashville Secrets
Save Me From Myself
Everything I Shouldn’t
Pretending He’s You
Everybody but Us (release TBA)
* * *
