by B. Celeste
Each break from college I find my way out of Lincoln and in the Big Apple. Parker has a place to stay, so I crash with him and his roommate for a few days and go to Parker’s favorite places—museums, cafes, parks, and restaurants. He showed me freedom. Distraction. He gave me a way to separate myself from everything I only pretended to deal with at home.
Every time we find ourselves together, something shifts. It wasn’t like that the first time in my hometown when we hung out as friends without any expectations. There was something lingering that changed how I saw him.
And I saw him … as an escape.
It was when I called him crying over my reckless decision with Eric that changed us completely. Looking back now, I don’t know why I ever told him to begin with. It isn’t like I cried because I didn’t want to sleep with the guy, but because I regretted it. And I could have called Zach, someone who knows me better, but chickened out when I thought about the mutual friend we shared who he’d seen me kiss and tease and touch in high school.
I found myself struggling to admit my recent choices to Zach because I know he’d congratulate me for moving on. And if he did that, it’d cement the importance of me letting go when I didn’t want to.
Swallowing as I look over my shoulder at the dark-haired boy currently reading a book with a pair of thick reading glasses perched on his nose, I manage a little smile. The only light on in his loft bedroom is the lamps by his bed, offering just enough light for him to read and me to study.
He looks up and smiles. “How’s it going over there?”
Nose twitching, I glance down at my handwritten notes. They’re barely legible. “I’m not sure I’m going to pass this exam.”
He knows my struggle over school the past two years. I’ve managed to suck it up and enroll in classes every semester, but it’s wearing thin. I’ve written a few books when I can, but none that ever made me feel like my first one did. I’ve shelved one, deleted another, acted on irritation instead of rationality. Through Shattered Glass has projected more sales in the first month than anyone expected.
My entire sophomore year of college has been a battle to pass because of my lack of interest. Every semester I sit in classrooms and zone out, jotting down story ideas in my notebooks instead of actual lecture notes. And then I feel bad for myself when I get my midterm grades and notice the way I borderline fail in every class except my literature ones. Nobody cares that I’m a published author here—if anything, my English professors just expect more from me which only adds on the pressure.
“Why don’t you just drop out?” he asks, setting his book down and sitting up. Taking the glasses off, he puts them on the hardcover book in his lap. “You’re an adult. It shouldn’t matter what your parents think if you’re unhappy.”
Rubbing my lips together, I consider how to answer. He’s met my family—knows their views. Mom thinks it’s great Parker graduated from NYU.
“They’d be upset.”
“They’ll get over it.”
I make a face. Mom doesn’t necessarily hold grudges, but she doesn’t let anyone forget about things if they bother her enough right away. “I want to stop wasting my time,” I admit quietly, closing my notebook. “But I care about what they think.”
“Kinley.” He sighs and puts his book and glasses on the nightstand before gesturing for me to move over to him. Giving up on studying, I move my notebook to the floor and crawl over to him until he’s holding my hand. “It’s not a bad thing to care about what your family thinks once in a while, but don’t let their opinions of you dictate your life. You don’t share the same interests, hobbies, or goals with them, so they’re never going to understand.”
And that’s the problem.
I don’t miss the way his thumb slowly moves over the back of my hand. It’s comforting and sweet, but the way he looks at me with those dark eyes tells me it’s more too. “If you’re miserable, do something about it. Don’t pretend like you want to be there when you could be doing something else.”
Voice defeated, I ask, “Like what?”
“Write.” His shoulders lift. “Here.”
I blink. “Here?”
“Here,” he confirms.
I make a squeaking noise as I stare at him in disbelief. “You mean like … right here? In your loft? In the city?”
His lips curve up at the corners. “Or in this apartment in general. The living room gets good lighting and the couch is pretty comfortable. Or there’s the breakfast bar…”
I have no idea what’s happening right now as he spews off more places I could sit down and work. “So … you want me to come here and write once in a while?”
His thumb stops moving. “Or you could just drop out of school like you keep saying you want to and then come stay here with me. Brodie is planning on moving out at the end of the month anyway.”
Did he…? Is he…? “Are you asking me to move in with you? Because I know there is no way that my parents are going to be okay with me not only dropping out of college but moving to the city with you, too.”
“What do you want?” he presses, letting go of my hand. “I’m not saying you have to do anything that’d make you uncomfortable but think about it. You’d be here in the city, which you’ve admitted multiple times that you love, and closer to Jamie when you two have to meet up. Plus, there’s way more to do here.”
“It’s expensive,” I cut him off. “I can’t afford it here. My book has barely been out for two months, Parker. It doesn’t matter that it’s doing well now, it could faceplant next month or the month after. I’m still so new to the industry.”
“I’ve got it handled.”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Kinley—”
“This is nuts.” I slide off the bed and stare at him like he’s lost his mind. “As much as I’d love to be here, it doesn’t make sense. My family is in Lincoln. They’d be upset… I just can’t.”
“But what about you?”
I don’t answer.
He gets off the bed and walks over to me, gently brushing his palms down my arms. “You always want other people to be happy, but what about you? Kinley, the world will keep turning if you choose to leave that town. Your family will still love you.”
Again, I say nothing.
“And…” He purses his lips for a moment, his eyes softening. “I want you here. I’ll go there any time you want me to if that’s where you want to stay, but I’m selfish enough to admit I want you here with me.”
I choke on air. “You…?”
“I like you, Kinley Thomas.” His hand goes to my cheek. “You’re like nobody else I’ve met. You’re kind, caring, beautiful, motivated, and I love being around you. So, yeah. I like you, I’m asking you move here, and I’m even willing to beg you to be with me. Because I want that. I want you.”
My throat burns with oncoming emotion as he bends down and kisses me for a fourth time. The other three times should have indicated what he wanted, but I’d told myself they were friendly kisses to protect myself from starting something I couldn’t control.
But this kiss is softer, slower, backed behind every swarm of emotion vindicated in his words. And for the first time since the boy with silver eyes, I find myself kissing back. And liking it—the way his lips move, his hands hold me, and his tongue tastes mine in leisure, gentle strokes. I like the way he pulls me to him, and whispers my name, and peppers kisses down my jaw and throat as he guides us to the bed. Feeling wanted by someone like Parker lets the wariness ease out of my conscience.
And unlike the last guy I let strip me of my clothes and kiss my body and touch me intimately, I didn’t cry. I mimicked his every move, kissed him deeply, opened myself up, and absorbed every single thing he made me feel.
Not once did I think about Corbin Callum.
It goes as expected when I drop the news. Badly. The blank stares are tolerable compared to the yelling. And there’s lots of that.
“You need to contact someone in admis
sions and reverse that paperwork,” Mom informs me once her jaw unlocks from the intense stare down she gave me.
“Mom—” My voice cracks under the pressure of her disapproval. It leaks out of her tight expression.
“No.” She stands and shakes her head. “I don’t understand what you’re doing. You’ve only got two more years left, Kinley.”
“But I’m not happy there.”
She blows out a breath and closes her eyes, lifting her hand when I try to speak. Shaking her head, she walks away from me, leaving me with Dad and Gavin.
“Kid,” Dad murmurs, “do you really think this is a good idea? There’s a lot that can go wrong, and your mother is right. You’re already halfway done with school. Why not just finish it off?”
This is just one big full circle going nowhere fast. “Because I never wanted to go in the first place. Mom isn’t right, but Parker is. I only went there to make Mom happy, but I’m miserable. School isn’t for everyone. Why should I rack up more student debt for no reason?”
Dad’s lips twitch, but he doesn’t say anything to argue my point. It isn’t an unreasonable one to make, no matter what I’m springing on them. At least he can see that.
Gavin on the other hand? “Are you really going to chase after some guy you’re not even dating?”
My eyes widen in hurt, my heart aching over the assumption I should have known he would make. “I’m not chasing after him. He made good points I couldn’t refute. We’re both happier there and I’ll have more opportunities.”
“And if you two get into a fight?”
“Why would we?”
“You’ll be living together,” he says slowly, brows arching. “You’ll always be together and that means you’re going to get on each other’s nerves. Trust me.”
He moved in with Kayla almost six months ago and still winds up here to help Dad with random projects in the garage or house for hours. I always wondered why he showed up out of the blue. Kayla would always come, talk to him, and they’d leave shortly after.
“We’ll be fine.”
“Are you dating?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“You’re my little sister, so it is.”
I scoff, pushing myself up. “I’m doing this and I’m sorry that upsets you. Jamie thinks it’s a great idea, too. She said she can get local bookstores to do signings with me since I’ll be closer. It’ll be great exposure.”
Nothing. Like always, they say nothing about something as exciting as that. And it crushes me little by little to know something I’m proud of is buried under the things they disapprove of me doing instead.
Mom walks back in just as I stand up. In her hands is a steaming cup of coffee filled to the brim. She won’t look at me.
“Mom,” I murmur, stepping toward her.
Nothing.
“I don’t want to disappoint you.”
She finally, finally looks at me. With distant eyes that are carved with hurt, she says, “I don’t know what to tell you then.”
And the hurt in her eyes soaks into me over the very words nobody wants to hear. But it doesn’t stop me from looking at my father, brother, and mother, before tipping my head once and walking out their front door.
Those words will haunt me for life.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Kinley / Present
I stare at the email exchange for another ten minutes without saying a single word. Nothing but the harsh drum of my heartbeat fills the room, my ears pounding until my temples nearly explode from the migraine forming.
I knew—we knew there were risks.
This is a termination of contract notice between (publisher) ONE HOUSE UNITED and (author) KINLEY THOMAS. Official termination documentation will arrive within thirty days of the initial notice.
Closing my eyes, I let the tears strain behind my pinched lids fighting for release. But I don’t want to spill tears over something I should have seen a mile away. This was always going to be the endgame with them.
The knock on the door is ignored.
Same with the second.
By the third, Corbin doesn’t care. He walks into my office and kneels beside me, rubbing my back and asking what’s wrong. We both got reprimanded by the people who represent us after Corbin’s impromptu statement, which has gone viral on every single site it’s been featured on.
His soft curse tells me he read what’s stretched across the screen of my laptop. The hand rubbing circles into my back trails up to my shoulder, squeezing it before he tugs my body into his. “Baby…”
The tears pour out of me as soon as his arms wrap around me and hold me against his chest. I drown his shirt with my anger and guilt and sadness and defeat, and he takes it all. Brushing his fingers through my hair, he kisses the top of my head and says nothing while I let it all out.
Words won’t help anyway.
We stay like that for a while, and I don’t know how Corbin’s knees don’t hurt from being in a squatted position for so long. But because I need his warmth, his comfort, I don’t dwell on it.
Sniffing back more tears, I pull away when my cell phone rings and Jamie’s name flashes across it. My lips waver as Corbin nods at me, pulling away but staying right where I need him by my side.
“Kinley,” she greets in a distant tone.
Wiping off my face with the back of my shirt sleeve, I force in a deep breath. “I should have known this would happen.”
She clears her throat. “Yes, well…” She knows it too, so she doesn’t even bother trying to tell me otherwise. “I spoke to my contact there and they felt the negative attention surrounding you was going to impact sales. I’m sorry, Kinley. I know how much you wanted that deal.”
Blinking back tears and swiping away the ones sticking to my lashes, all I can do is shrug. It isn’t like I can blame them for terminating me because their reasoning makes perfect sense. “I don’t know what happens now,” I admit, voice cracking from the swell of emotion lodged in my throat.
When Jamie hesitates, I blow out a shaky breath and prepare for whatever’s coming. “I’m not sure if you read the full letter, but they’re reverting the rights and manuscript back to you. My best suggestion is to do exactly what you and Corbin told the press you were doing in the statement made the other day. Take a break. Take time off. Let things settle down. Right now, your name isn’t attached to anything good and if we try reaching out to other publishers the chances are slim you’ll get a positive response.
“This is why I always tell you to be careful, Kinley. What you say and do has consequences that impacts more than just you. I’m truly sorry that you lost the One House deal, but this also affects me and this agency. Rave Publishing hasn’t spoken up on the news since it went live, but I plan on reaching out and having a conversation with them soon. They’re making a lot of money off of your book and movie, so I doubt they’ll want to pull anything. But you need to be very cautious over the next few months, especially now that the world has seen the photos of you.”
Jaw quivering, I nod along as Corbin brushes my arm to let me know he’s there for me every step of the way. I can’t help but feel bitter over the repercussions I’ve faced compared to him. I’ve lost a book deal. Besides a woman that he never should have married, what has he lost?
That thought consumes me enough to pull away and listen to Jamie about staying off social media. Her people, once again, will handle my pages. My job is to stay quiet and take care of myself. And the baby.
So, I do.
I spend the weeks following that phone call in my room like a zombie, being watched by Corbin with a careful eye. He’d make me eat, try getting me to go outside, but couldn’t stop me from curling up in bed and ignoring the world.
When December begins, the only thing that gets me out of my house is my rescheduled appointment with Dr. Ray since my energy was depleted for the one originally scheduled in November. As soon as Corbin found out about it, he’d all but begged to go with me. And de
spite my anger, my jealousy over the situation we put ourselves in, I couldn’t say no to him when I saw his white-silver eyes flash with a newfound excitement I’d never seen before.
He wanted to go with me.
He wanted to see the baby.
He wanted to be there for us.
And that eased some of the irritation that seeped into my bones, even if the amount is microscopic. It isn’t fair to hold a grudge over decisions that he isn’t in control of. Maybe Hollywood wants to use his publicity to garner attention, while the book world wants to distance themselves from it. I’ve always known that our industries were opposite.
Like when I finally succumbed to the torture of my email inbox where I found an exchange between Eddie Mansfield and whoever was controlling my account. He suggested saying the baby wasn’t Corbin’s. He wanted me to lie to save Corbin’s reputation, not caring about my own. And when I admitted as much to Corbin, he’d called Eddie and lost it. I had to convince him that he needed a manager now more than ever, so firing him like he’d threatened wouldn’t be a good idea. To my surprise, he listened.
Not before telling Eddie if he ever suggested something like that again he wouldn’t hesitate to fire him ten times over. I didn’t feel bad for his manager because the idea of me claiming the baby is someone else’s still adds to the bitterness of Corbin’s life. He had people looking out for him in ways that save face.
What about me?
They put us in a room immediately after showing up because everyone gawked and talked and glared at Corbin and me when we registered. One of the nurses brought us here to get me ready in the same room I’d first heard the heartbeat. That day is when I knew I couldn’t be angry over this pregnancy because something beautiful was happening inside me.
Corbin’s eyes are attached to a baby magazine he snatched from the waiting room. He’s been reading it since they put us in here almost twenty-five minutes ago, flipping through each page slowly and soaking in whatever’s inside.
