Falling for You

by Bailey B

  Being in love with your best friend sucks

  Find it on Amazon

  Broken Love Book 1

  Beautifully Broken

  Now Available

  Most people don’t think about the day they’ll die. They coast through life, blissfully unaware of how their time is ticking away. I wasn’t like most people. I welcomed death, wanted her to take me away from the prison I called life, but she refused. I tried twice only to survive. And then, when I thought I had nothing left it came.

  A reason to live.

  Rex was a small, unexpected ray of light my world of darkness that blossomed into a beam of sunshine. I thought, maybe this was why Death didn’t take me. Maybe she knew that if I held on a little longer things would turn around. But the third time Death came to my door wasn’t by choice. Someone else brought her, and I fear this time she might take me.

  Rex

  Being the son of a country star sucks. My parents are never around, I move every year or so, and I have no real friends. Everyone around me has an agenda. Everyone except Piper Lovelace. I can’t get that girl to notice me. Trust me I’ve tried.

  Thankfully, fate stepped in and gave me the break I needed. I’ve got her attention, now I need her to give me a chance.

  Chapter 1

  Piper

  I’m the school slut. It’s a title I wear, not proudly, but because it’s what’s expected of me. Everyone at St. A’s High School knows my bio-mom’s a whore—a real screw-you-for-money whore— that slept with the physics teacher last week.

  Thank you, Facebook, for tagging me in that humiliating article.

  Not.

  Bio-mom was arrested for all of two seconds before making bail thanks to her pimp and the John she got caught with, he also happens to be my first period teacher this year. So, on top of the normal whispers spread about me on the daily, that mess is going around too.

  It’s fine.

  I’m used to my name being in everyone’s mouth. It’s been that way since the third grade. Back then, people talked about my dirty nails, how skinny I was, and how my best friend was a boy. In high school, the daily gossip changed to where I moved to, what alleged drugs I was on, and eventually who I had spread my legs for. When the rumor started that I gave a killer blowjob for fifty bucks, no one doubted it. Why would they? I’m the girl with a whore for a mom. The girl from the wrong side of the tracks.

  Literally.

  There’s the rich side of town where my classmates live, the good side, the tracks, and then that side. It’s like the shadowy place in the Lion King Simba was warned to stay away from. Yeah...bio-mom lives there.

  Anyway, not long after that rumor about me started, I figured what the hell. They say when life gives you lemons, make lemonade. I was given stupid, horny boys. So, I made money.

  For the record, I’ve never actually touched anybody. At first, I turned everyone who approached me down. But there were a select few I eventually said yes to. The most selfish, conceited, disrespectful guys in our school got special treatment.

  Underneath the shadows of the stadium bleachers, they dropped their pants. Exposed their less-than-exciting-junk to me. And then I kicked them straight in the balls. Those jerks fell to their knees, cursing my name while I took all the cash from their wallets. It was the perfect hustle.

  Anyway, all of this is why I’m being stared down by Tad Parker. Captain of the baseball team, running back on the football team, and total tool. Bloodshot eyes narrow on my face, expecting a different answer to the question asked this morning.

  “It’s still a hard no, Tad.” I stop walking and cross my arms.

  While I’d love to take the pretty boy for all he’s got, I’m trying to turn a new leaf and make the most of what’s left of my senior year. I don’t expect to fix my reputation, but I’m trying to change the way I see myself. Which means no more pretend illicit acts for money.

  Tad rolls his bloodshot eyes and pulls a brown leather wallet, that probably costs as much as a year’s tuition, from his back pocket. He thumbs through his cash, offering more twenties than I’ve held in my entire life. “Come on, Piper. I’ll make it worth your while. Five hundred. Right now for five minutes in the bathroom.”

  Tad’s a good looking guy, if you’re into that classic blond-haired, blue-eyed, prince charming wannabe look with the attitude of Gaston. He has no shortage of self-entitled princesses throwing themselves at him.

  I shake my head and push his arm back. My checking account may be teetering on the edge of zero, but I’m not this desperate. “Why not hit up one of the JV cheerleaders. They’d jump at the chance to get tangled up with you. For free.”

  “Because they aren’t Piper fucking Lovelace. Now come on.” Tad’s hand curls around my arm. He squeezes, pulling me towards the stadium bathrooms.

  One Mississippi.

  My airway constricts. Bats swarm in my stomach, threatening to bring up the vending machine cinnamon roll I had after fourth period. I absolutely detest being touched; it sets off a catalyst of reactions that steadily get worse. My one and only thought at this point is to make Tad let go.

  I dig my heels into the ground and yank my arm back, but my efforts are useless. I try to pry his fingers off me, punch him, kick him in the leg. Nothing I do makes a difference. Tad’s too strong. Even with my best attempt at a struggle, he drags me clear across the parking lot almost effortlessly.

  Two Mississippi.

  My hands tremble, sending vibrations up my arms and throughout my body. I need help. I hate asking for help almost as much as I hate being touched, but I don’t have much choice. I look to my left and then my right, but there’s no one in sight. No one to hear my screams. I try anyway, opening my mouth to yell, but nothing comes out. This can’t be happening. I swallow the tiny bit of saliva in my bone dry throat and try again.

  Nothing but air.

  Beads of sweat drip down my neck as the feeling of impending doom lingers. The memory of a crooked grin I’ll never forget flashes before my eyes, amping the intensity of my breakdown.

  I spent a good part of this year in counseling to learn how to manage my panic attacks. Finding ways to keep everyone from noticing my freak outs. Tad makes me feel like I’m trapped, watching from the outside, as I lose all control.

  Three Mississippi.

  Logically I know it’s been more than three seconds. It has to have been, but I’m stuck in a time warp. Everything happens at a snail slow pace yet lightning fast at the same time.

  Tad pushes me against a wall near the entrance of the girl’s bathroom, just outside of the football stadium. He lets go of my arm and presses his hands on either side of me. I realize that this situation probably isn’t going to end well, but my anxiety begins to subside. As close as Tad is, he’s not touching me anymore.

  I can think again.

  Feel again.

  Pain surges through my arm like a lightning bolt. It was probably there the whole time, but I didn’t notice. I’m going to have five little bruises from the pressure of his fingers but I don’t move to soothe the throbbing. I hold my ground, fists balled at my sides, and stare up at him.

  “I'm not above dragging you into the bathroom, but I don’t want to do that. I just need you to go in there with me, Piper.” Tad rests his forehead against the wall. His breath loud and shaky beside my ear. “A thousand dollars,” he says suddenly, turning his head, begging me with his eyes to concede. “Walk in there with me. Please. You have to. ”

  If my heart wasn’t already racing, it would be. That’s a lot of money, enough for a ticket out of town and a few nights at a cheap motel. It’s not nearly enough to pay my bio-mom’s debts, but it would put a dent in it and maybe keep everyone off my back a little longer.

  I don’t know though. Whatever rumor is bound to start about me would be gone in eight short weeks, but this situation doesn’t feel right. Something’s off. “I need that money. More than you can imagine, but no.”

  Tad beats his fist on the
wall beside me. I flinch, but he’s so lost in himself he doesn’t seem to notice. “What the fuck, Piper? I’ve offered you ten times more than your worth. If you don’t go in there, I’m gonna be...” He shakes his head.

  “I don’t want—”

  Tad turns to me again, this time crashing his lips onto mine. He tastes like cigarettes and tuna fish, two things I hate. His hands push into my hair, tangling and pulling my roots. Bile creeps up my throat.

  I don’t want this.

  I don’t want him.

  No! I bite down on the tongue that’s invaded my mouth and press my palms to Tad’s chest, pushing as hard as I can. He stumbles back a step and stares at me, wide eyed, apparently shocked that I rejected him.

  “You bitch!” He raises his hand and slapping me across the face. “You don’t want to do this the easy way, fine. We can do it—!”

  “Hey!” A deep voice booms from my right. A wide, tall body comes out of nowhere, physically shielding me with its massive frame while a hand shoves Tad’s shoulder.

  Tad loses his balance and stumbles a step to the right. “The fuck you want, Montgomery?”

  Rex Montgomery—owner of said voice—reaches behind him and puts a protective hand on my hip. With everything that’s happening, my brain doesn’t seem to register the touch. It can’t, it’s too stunned that he of all people came to my rescue.

  I mean, the man is a living work of art. At six-foot-four, Rex towers over damn near everyone at St. A’s. Teachers included. It’s a known fact that he played ice hockey at his last school, and rumor has it he’s already been drafted to go semi-pro next season. Needless to say, every inch of him is carved from gold. Not really, but I hear his muscles are drool worthy. Add to that near perfect body a strong jawline and an angled nose. Yeah, girls swoon just from hearing his name. I’ll admit, I might be one of them, sometimes, but never in public.

  “Leave her alone,” he growls.

  Tad snorts. “That’s cute. You sticking up for the trash. This bitch doesn’t belong here, Rex. All girls like her are good for is a quick lay.”

  “Fuck you,” I yell. Rex squeezes my hip, probably trying to be reassuring. Oddly enough, it works. A calm settles over me, releasing an unexpected smile.

  What the heck is happening right now?

  “Tell you what, you can take her into the boys bathroom first. When you’re done I’ll do my thing with her in the girl’s. My treat, man.”

  Without warning Rex swings, catching Tad off guard with a right hook to the eye. Rex moves like a shark. Agile. Quick. And with precision. He swings again, hitting with enough force to knock Tad back a step.

  I stand there like an idiot. Mouth open. Eyes gaping as if this is the first time I’ve witnessed two boys throw down. I’ve seen fights before. Hell, my tattoo artist runs a backyard fight club once a month that once upon a time I used to go to.

  But this is different.

  The rage in Rex’s eyes is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. It’s terrifying and unbelievably hot at the same time. I couldn’t tear my gaze away even if I tried.

  Tad grunts and lunges forward, hitting Rex in the stomach with his shoulder, but he barely moves. Rex punches him in the side, once, twice, then slams Tad’s face onto his knee.

  Tad falls to the ground, panting, blood seeping from his nose and a cut on his brow. He took a hell of a beating, and I have no clue how he’s still conscious. Must be all that practice getting his ass handed to him on the football field. Defeated, he holds a hand up in surrender.

  All of this is going on and I’m over here, less than three feet from the action, fighting the urge to jump up and down like a freaking cheerleader. Something has to be wrong with me today. I’ve never been the preppy ra-ra type. I’m more of a glare at you from a distance kind of girl. But watching Rex kick Tad’s ass has me feeling some kind of way.

  “Since you were too stupid to listen the first time, I’ll tell you again. Piper’s closed for business,” Rex growls. “You will not stop her in the hallway or corner her when she’s alone. Your days of talking to or thinking about Piper are done. If I find you in the same room as her outside of class, I’ll kick your ass three ways from Sunday. Got it?”

  All the bubbly feelings I had watching Rex kick Tad’s ass disappear. Reality smacks me in the face with a horde of questions.

  What does Rex mean by the first time?

  Is he the reason everyone has left me alone the last few weeks?

  What the hell is going on!?

  Tad spits blood onto the ground and nods. “Got it.”

  “Good,” Rex says rising to his feet. “Now get the hell out of here before I beat the living shit out of you again.”

  I watch Rex while he watches Tad walk away, guarding me until that low-life is out of sight.

  Rex turns. His dark brown hair, short on the sides but long enough to run your fingers through on top, blows in the rare Florida breeze like a damn shampoo commercial. Under normal circumstances I’d make fun of him for it but I’m too stunned to speak. My mind’s still tripping over the fact that he saved me. That he touched me and that my pulse is racing faster than a greyhound from the way he is still looking at me.

  “Are you okay?” Rex takes my chin between his thumb and forefinger to examine my face. My breath catches. Not because I’m anxious, but because the feeling of impending doom isn’t there. There’s no tightness in my chest or nervous shakes. No needles shooting down my spine or fuzziness in my head. Instead, there’s an electric current pulsating between us that I’ve never felt before, similar to my anxiety needles yet different.

  “I’m fine.” I’m not fine. My skin’s on fire, the space between my legs aches, and I’m a confused mess. Rex is the first person to touch me this year who doesn’t send my body into shock. His skin on mine should ignite a catalyst of crippling reactions. Instead, heat spreads from my cheeks down to my core. Awakening parts of me I thought died long ago.

  Rex drops his hand. Deep blue’s study me, combing over every feature, making my insecurities bubble up. The bags under my eyes. The scars on my arms, some hidden beneath a colorful tattoo, others still visible to all who look beyond the dozen rubber bracelets.

  “Wanna get out of here?” He asks with zero traces of hidden innuendo.

  Another first. The only time guys—who aren’t the Harris twins—talk to me is to ask for a favor. An unfortunate hazard of my reputation.

  Please don’t let Rex ask a favor.

  “Piper?”

  Shit. I must have zoned out. No, I don’t want to leave with you because I don’t know what’s going on with me! I shake my head, hoping I didn’t actually say those words aloud.

  Rex smiles revealing two deep, beautiful dimples.

  The overwhelming need to have his hands on my body consumes me. Tears prick the back of my eyes again because for the first time in a year I want to be held. What’s worse, I want to be comforted by him— the hot almost stranger who saved me.

  I hate it.

  I like it.

  I don’t know how to take it. I’ve gone so long learning how to cope with the anxiety of unwanted touch that I forgot how to react when it’s desired. I look up at Rex, feeling like a complete idiot, unsure of what to do next. Should I say thank you? Is that enough? I mean, what he just did, saving me, is huge!

  “Can I walk you inside? I’m sure Cooper wouldn’t want you by yourself after that bullshit. And I…” he rubs at the back of his neck. “I don’t want to leave you alone. You know, in case Tad comes back.”

  “Okay.” My voice cracks, sounding nothing like its usual calm, collected self. Rex steps closer and tucks me under his arm. There’s a bubble in my chest but I can still breathe. Still function.

  I think I’m nervous.

  Go figure. The hottest guy in school that I’ll never have a chance with is ushering me inside and now my brain starts to act like a teenage girl. If I can’t get this under control, I’m screwed.

  Rex angles his body to shie
ld me from eyes that might be watching as we cross the parking lot. The smell of musk and clean linen swirl in my head. It’s delicious. I sniff again, committing the scent to memory because the likelihood that I’ll be this close to him again is slim to none. Even if Rex can touch me without causing a debilitating panic attack, handsome, popular guys don’t actually like girls like me. They just like the way we make them feel.

  Broken Love Book 2

  I hate you I love you

  I Hate You, I Love You Part 1

  Now Available

  They say when you meet the person you’re supposed to be with, time stops. Your brain takes in every micro-detail, committing it all to memory, and you’re hit with this unexplainable need. A need to get to know that person, talk to that person, simply be beside that person. And then there’s the kiss. A fire spreading, earth-shattering, kiss that wipes all others from your memory. I’ve felt that pull towards someone once, and it consumed me. But it wasn’t for love, it was hate. I absolutely, without a doubt, HATE Logan Harris.

  Chapter 1

  Logan

  I run a shaking hand through my hair, dark strands slithering like snakes against my palm. I thought my new neighbor looked familiar, but I couldn’t figure out why. At first I didn’t give the girl much thought and assumed the familiarity was because we had hooked up or something. But that round face and those long dark locks haunted me all night. And then, passing her on the way to first period this morning, the scent of rosewater shampoo set fire to my neurons.

  My middle school best friend, Danika Winters, has returned home after more than three years and instead of being thrilled, my skeletons are knocking.

  I swallow a lump in my throat the size of a cannon ball. My heart’s racing. Vision’s blurring. Suddenly, I’m a seven-year-old boy again, sitting in my therapist's office, his icy fingers curling over my shoulder. I shudder and blink back the first round of demons haunting me.