My Accidental Forever
Love You Forever Book 5
Alexis Winter
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Copyright © 2020 by Alexis Winter - All rights reserved.
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Contents
1. Harley
2. Foster
3. Harley
4. Foster
5. Harley
6. Foster
7. Harley
8. Foster
9. Harley
10. Foster
11. Harley
12. Foster
13. Harley
14. Foster
15. Harley
16. Foster
17. Harley
The F*** It List SNEAK PEEK!
Chapter 1
READ THE REST OF THE SERIES HERE
Also by Alexis Winter
About the Author
One
Harley
“I’m engaged!” my best friend, Cora, nearly screams as she jumps up and down in front of me. Her right hand is fanning her face. The left is held out, showing off her beautiful sparkling diamond ring for me to see.
I do my best to force a smile, hoping and praying it looks genuine, but who am I kidding? I’m not good at faking anything. My resting bitch face always gives me away. “Congratulations,” I say with as much enthusiasm as I can muster as I take her left hand in mine and look at her ring.
She pulls me forward into a rib-crushing hug. Her giggles turn to tears. “Oh, Harley, I didn’t think this day would ever come,” she says, sniffling. “Now you’re the only one left.”
Yeah, rub it in. That makes things better.
Let me start by saying that I’m not your stereotypical girl. I’ve never been one to dream of my prince charming or the perfect wedding. It’s not that I’m just dying to get married, but it sucks that I’m the last of my friends who’s still single. Sarah has two kids already. Jessica is pregnant. Lilly, Meredith, and now Cora are all engaged. And when it comes to me . . . well, I have a couple foster dogs at home, no real boyfriend, and no intentions of settling down anytime soon. I feel like everyone is just way better at this adulting stuff than I am. It feels like I’ve just discovered I’m in a race and I’m already in last place.
“I know,” I agree, “but I think I’ll always be the single one. You know, the cool aunt who keeps the secrets and sneaks alcohol at all the kids’ parties,” I joke, and she pretends to ignore the hint of sadness in my tone.
She forces a laugh and playfully smacks my arm. “You’re a riot,” she says, blowing me off. “Seriously, aren’t there any guys who could stick? I know you’re seeing, like, three dudes at the moment, right?”
I roll my eyes. “I am not seeing three of them,” I argue.
She gasps. “You are, too! Let me see if I can remember them all. There’s Brett, the motorcycle racer. There’s Tony, the almost-MMA fighter. And there’s Will, the aspiring musician. You don’t think any of them will stick?” She sits back down in the chair across from my desk and I follow suit.
“Well, let’s see.” I start ticking them off on my fingers. “Brett’s already out of the picture. He’s in Florida for a race. We went on two dates and, no, I didn’t sleep with him.” I hold up my second finger. “Tony stopped talking to me when I didn’t put out on the first date,” I say, and she gasps as she leans forward to smack me across the arm. I quickly dodge away, out of her reach. “And Will’s still around, but it’s nothing serious.”
She shakes her head. “How could you leave Tony like that? He was hot as hell, Harley!”
I nod. “I know, but he seriously sucked at fighting and thought he was amazing, and I’m not down with a dude who expects me to suck his dick just because he bought me a steak. Fuck right off, bro.” I shrug. “I want a winner—not a loser who always has black eyes,” I joke.
She rolls her blue eyes and shakes her head, making her red curls sway with the motion. “Seriously, you keep being this picky and you will end up alone.”
I laugh. “Well, I’m always going to be this picky, but while you guys are all tied down to your husbands and kids and PTA meetings, I’ll be out living my best life and traveling the world. So who’s really losing here?” I ask with a wink, but keep my tone light and playful as a smile stretches across my face. We both know I’m kidding, but what she doesn’t see is how much I’d actually love to be tied down like that.
She giggles. “I guess it all depends on what you want. I want to be married, have a couple of kids, and always have my best friend with me through thick and thin. But good for you for not following along with all these boring traditions.” She rolls her eyes and I can tell she doesn’t believe a word of my story.
“Yeah, I mean, all that marriage stuff is good for you and the girls, but I’m just not that type.”
“That won’t stop you from joining us at the bar tonight, right? To celebrate?” She offers up a smile as her shoulders rise.
“I wouldn’t miss it,” I promise. “I’m so happy for you, babe. Just because I might not want the same things as you doesn’t ever diminish my happiness for you and all our friends.”
“Good,” she says, standing up and heading for the door to my office. “I’ll text you the details, but plan for a wild night,” she says, pointing at me.
I hold up my hand and wave as she makes her way out of my office. The door softly clicks closed behind her and I’m finally alone. A long breath leaves my lips as I lean my head back against the chair. My eyes find the white ceiling and flutter closed.
Like I said, I don’t want marriage. I don’t want to be tied down. I don’t want to go to sleep with the same man every night. At this point, I’m not sure if I’m reminding myself of this or trying to convince myself. Jealously and guilt gnaw at my stomach. I hate that I feel this way. I don’t want to be jealous, and that’s why I feel guilty. My jealously just got in the way of being happy for Cora, and she deserves nothing less. Tonight, I’ll be happy for her. I’ll be excited even though it feels like all my friends are growing up faster than I am. They’re moving on with their kids, husbands, and fiancés, and here I am, scraping together my pennies for the 50-cent drafts at Stella’s. My life has seriously gone off the rails.
With that thought, I think I’ll take off early today. I close all the windows that are open on my computer and shut it down. I turn off the lamp on my desk, then grab my phone, keys, and bag and start for the door. I lock my office behind me and make my way through the shelter. The sound of barking fills my ears as I make my way down the hallway and into the front lobby. Jenna is standing behind the desk, her attention on the computer screen. When she hears my footsteps, she looks up. “Taking off early today?”
“Yep, I’ve had all the fun I can handle,” I tell her, leaning against the counter with my keys in one hand and my phone in the other.
“Any plans? Got a hot date or anything for the weekend?”
I roll my eyes. “No hot date . . . not yet, anyway. My friend just got engaged, so we’re going out to celebrate. Fingers crossed I find a hottie there.”
She giggles and I wink. “See ya Monday.”
“Enjoy your weekend
and try not to catch any diseases,” she jokes.
I laugh. “Same to you, my friend. Same to you.” I push my way out of the swinging doors and head to my car in the parking lot.
I open the door to my blacked-out Jeep Wrangler and climb behind the wheel. I place my bag on the passenger seat and drop my keys into the cup holder as my foot presses the brake and my finger finds the start button. The motor turns over and purrs to life. The air that blows out of the vents is hot from sitting around all day, so I roll down the windows until it cools off. Summer is just starting and it’s already unbearable.
I click my seatbelt and shift into drive. Looking both ways, I pull out onto the nearly empty street. As I drive, I can’t help but feel more alone than usual. Maybe it’s because my only single friend is now on the marriage train. She and the girls will be doing married-lady things and I’ll be forever alone and left out. On the sidewalk across the street, a man and a woman walk hand in hand. He looks at her and she looks back with a smile. He tugs her to him and they kiss. I roll my eyes and scoff. “Oh come on! Get a room,” I mumble to myself.
I guess I should get it all out of my system now. I have to be happy and excited for Cora. I can’t let my bitterness and jealously ruin this for her . . . or me. This could be one of the last nights we get to party together. Soon, she’ll be consumed with wedding planning and then married life. Maybe it’s time I find a few unmarried women to kick it with.
Fuck that. I need to stop thinking about marriage altogether. I’m 24. I have a full-time job making very little money. In fact, more than half my income goes to paying my car and bills. Luckily for me, I don’t eat much. And I date a lot, so I get free meals, but still. Does that scream ready for marriage and kids to you? It doesn’t to me. I need to grow up before I can think about settling down with anyone. I need to be more responsible before I think about having kids. Or . . . do I even want kids? Maybe I can find a man like me who’s always ready to have fun and doesn’t want to be tied down. Now that would be the life. But I’m sure my girlfriends would disagree.
I pull into the driveway and park my Jeep. I shut off the engine and grab my things as I unbuckle. I hop out, and before I get to the door, I can hear the dogs barking with excitement from inside. They’re my kids—for now, anyway.
I unlock the door and let myself in. Four dogs greet me and I fall to my knees to play with them in the doorway.
Bob licks my face. Gizmo is jumping all around—wagging his tail and beating me to death with it. Juno is hanging out in the back. She’s the newest addition and isn’t sure what’s going on yet. And Dozer, well, he’s all over me, making me fall back until I’m lying on my back on the floor. I can’t hold back my giggles at how excited they are.
“Okay, okay, who wants to go outside?” I ask, pushing them back as I work to get myself off the floor. They all start barking, whining, and running for the back door. I walk through the living room and kitchen, then into the laundry room where the back door is located. I unlock and open it, and all the dogs go running out at full speed. I step outside to watch them run and play in the fenced-in backyard. I got lucky with this place.
This is my grandmother’s house, and I only got it after she moved into her assisted living condo across town. The place is paid for, but I still have to pay the water, power, and property tax bills. Plus the upkeep of fixing anything that breaks and paying the company that mows the lawn. It’s a great place, especially considering the fact that I wouldn’t be able to find an apartment on what I make, not to mention they’d have to be okay with me having foster dogs. But fostering the animals is part of my job, and it’s often one of my favorite parts.
I work as the PR director for a local no-kill shelter, so I handle all the advertising and coordinate the adoption and foster events. But no kill also means nonprofit. I get paid very little. I know I could probably go elsewhere with my talents, but this is where my heart is. My dad once said, “Find a job you love and you’ll never work a day in your life.” Well, I may have taken that a little too seriously. There should have been something in that speech that included money, so I could provide for myself a little better. Don’t get me wrong, I make enough to stay afloat, but it would be nice to not constantly be trying to figure out if I can afford to go on a three-day weekend vacation once a year or get my eyebrows done. It would be nice to just skip out on work for a fancy lunch and a shopping spree, but this is the life I chose. Sometimes I think I’m doing this whole adulting thing wrong.
As I watch the dogs run and play, my phone chimes from my back pocket. I pull it free and read the message on the screen from Cora.
Stella’s Bar, 8 p.m. Be prepared to party it up!
I laugh and shake my head before turning off the screen and sliding it back into my pocket. I stretch and let out a loud yawn. Maybe I just didn’t get enough sleep last night. Perhaps I’ll take a nap before hitting the town. That’s probably why I feel weird today; it’s not because Cora’s engaged. That thought makes me feel a little bit better.
I clap my hands and call for the dogs. They immediately come running and we all go back inside. They rush off to the living room, ready to lie down, with a couple playing tug-of-war with their rope toy while I make myself a late lunch. I eat a sandwich and some chips and drink a glass of tea before locking the house and going to the bedroom for a nap. I leave the bedroom door open and every single dog climbs into bed with me. I really need a bigger bed.
The alarm on my phone goes off two hours later and my eyes flutter open. I silence the alarm and look toward the window where the late afternoon sun is filtering through the blinds. The dust particles in the air are lit up like glitter as they float down to the ground. It’s 5 p.m., but thanks to it being early summer, the sun is still high in the sky, not yet ready to go down and call it a day.
I stretch and yawn, trying to force myself to wake up. Finally, I push myself to my feet and trudge to the shower. I strip out of my jeans and the Don’t Buy—Adopt! shirt I wore to work today. I climb beneath the hot flow of water and tilt my head back, allowing the hot water to wash over my hair and face.
I take extra time in the shower since the party’s still not for a couple more hours. I shave my legs then wash and condition my hair. I do a hair mask and a face mask, and use my in-shower lotion so I’m nice and soft. Finally, I have nothing left to do, so I climb out and wrap a towel around myself.
I decide to throw on some pajamas while I do my hair and makeup and find something for dinner. I end up eating a salad on the couch while my hair air-dries. Once I finish, I’m back in the bathroom to get ready for the long night of partying that’s sure to come.
At 7 p.m., I’m finally fully dressed and ready to have a night out on the town. I stand back and look myself over in the mirror. My black skinny jeans hug every curve of my hips and thighs. The holes and rips from the distressing provide a peek at my tanned legs. I tuck in a simple white tank and throw on a black and gold belt. I pair the outfit with some high-heeled black boots. I went extra heavy on the eye makeup, with a smoky eye, false lashes, and a shiny lip. My long, dark hair is full of curls and body, looking a little messy—just as I like it. I grab my purse and head for the car, more than ready to celebrate with my girls.
I walk into Stella’s and the place is already crowded. Every table is occupied and every barstool is taken. The dance floor is filled with moving bodies and groups stand in almost every free area of the bar. I find the girls in a back corner booth. I put a smile on my face and approach them.
“Harley!” Cora yells with a smile when she sees me. She rushes up, throwing her arms around my neck for a big hug.
I giggle. “You hit the sauce already?” I ask her, hugging her back and picking pink boa feathers out of my mouth.
She pulls back and laughs, smoothing down her boa. “I might have pregamed.” She winks at me dramatically. “You OK? You seemed a little sad today.”
I wave her off. “I was just tired . . . and hungry. Both problems have be
en solved now. I’m good. Now, what do you say to getting hammered and not remembering this night?” I ask with a wide smile.
She throws her arms in the air and lets out a long howl before leading me the rest of the way to the table where shots are already lined up.
More shots are poured quickly and beer seems to be in endless supply. I don’t remember making the conscious decision to attempt to kill myself with alcohol tonight, but that’s apparently what I’ve done. My vision is blurring and my body feels extra sensitive. Of course, that could have something to do with the arms engulfing me right now. A sexy man who’s tall and muscular with thick, dark hair and scruff on his jaw is holding me close, his body grinding against mine.
“What’s your name?” I ask over my shoulder as I wiggle my ass against him.
His hands tighten on my hips. “ Foster,” he whispers low in my ear. “What’s yours?”
I turn around and wrap my arms around his neck. With a smile I say, “Harley.”
“Harley, huh? Don’t think I’ve heard that name outside the Batman universe.”
I laugh. “Yeah, I get that a lot. I’m not named after Harley Quinn. My dad used to be a biker.” I shrug one shoulder and play indifferent.
He leans in closer and his hot breath washes over my dry lips. “What do you say to coming home with me tonight?” His lips press against my jaw and it makes my eyes flutter closed.
“I’d love to, but I’m here with some friends, celebrating an engagement.”
My Accidental Forever (Love You Forever Book 5) Page 1
