The Best Chance (The Amherst Sinners Series Book 4)

by Elena Monroe

  Sabrina, my paid date, finally found me, without any real investigation. All we did was go straight and hit the first bar in sight; it wasn’t rocket science. “Caden? What is going on?”

  “I warned you. It got ugly.”

  She wrapped her arm around my toned back, trying to help me stand up straight, even though I wasn’t that drunk. The minute I stood up from the stool, I felt all the effects suddenly weigh me down, expanding and creating a fullness to everything.

  “At least it wasn’t at dinner. Let’s get you back to the room. That’s enough fun for one night.” Her voice was softer than normal, and everything in me hated it. I liked Snow White how she was: independent, strong, anti-bullshit, and anti-me.

  “Your room or mine?” The hope between my slurred words was obvious, which I was hoping for.

  The way she slanted her eyes was enough of an answer, but if I had her voice, I’d wanna hear myself talk too. “Your room, stud. You’re wasted.”

  Ollie wasn’t nosy; he was just always in the wrong place at the wrong time. Now my secret was out. Sabrina wasn’t staying in my room, which set off so many red flags I’m sure he was stunned. “Hold up. No one is leaving Caden in a room by himself while drunk.” He could hold his liquor with more honor, while I was putting too much effort into seeing straight after being sober for a while.

  Sabrina didn’t get it, until I laughed without any guilt. Then, she said, “I meant bed. We have two beds in the room.” She tried to save herself, but Ollie was my best friend, who knew better than to trust the word of a girl over my reaction.

  The raven-haired beauty next to me, trying to hold me straight when I wasn’t sure I was swaying, was the first girl to not want me—any part of me. Snow White wasn’t going to wake up to a kiss; she was going to wake up for checks and a knight who lost his honor.

  Hunter

  We settled in Amherst after bouncing from Boston, LA, and Florida, when Addi changed her classes to be all online and rescheduled her theater classes to be next semester with another professor. She was avoiding campus until the scumbag I fucked up in her parent's driveway got fired and it was safe to come back. We both knew it wasn't ever going to be safe. Everyone knew she was a girl getting it on with a professor; they just didn't know who.

  Amherst seemed logical until she transferred to Boston University on a whim, because that's what Addi did: whims without apologies. We outgrew Amherst after only being there a month.

  Amherst wasn't just in her sister’s shadow, but it was now tainted with her master list mistakes too.

  Our apartment was brick, with exposed beams and wires, just like our relationship: raw, real, and not hiding anything anymore.

  She saw every layer I hid so well under my resentment and sly smile. She saw every layer and still wanted me. Layla and Jade wanted to pick the parts that best served them, while Addi didn't let any of me go to waste.

  On our last trip to LA, Addi gave into my peer pressure and officially found an agency to represent her. There wasn't any real rush or need to wait; it was a limbo in timing until her agency actually came through. They had her audition for Palmer's pilot, which had been picked up by a huge network known for producing buzz worthy shows.

  The Best Years

  Now with no more fake tan, no more red lipstick, and gray roots to dirty up her platinum perfect hair, she was more herself than ever. She wasn't afraid of comparing herself to anyone anymore. She was Addileigh, and no one could be her.

  Now she knew that too.

  Addi got the lead role. You guessed it… as Layla. Ironic, huh?

  “I couldn't truly be anyone else until I understood who I was. You're the best.”

  She plopped down with a giant bowl of popcorn, like we had guests. In reality, this was our secret sanctuary. This was where all the little devilish things we thought and couldn’t live out in the real world came out—the parts of us that didn’t apologize, didn’t care if they labelled us villains, and certainly didn’t live in anyone’s shadow.

  “You're right. I am amazing. I should have been a doctor. Damn. I cured your insanity.”

  Her small fist collided with my ribs so lightly it almost tickled. “Hey! I'm still psycho, and I know all your secrets. Be careful.”

  I lifted my hand enough to let my palm settle on the crown of her head, and I messed up her hair until her mouth dropped open. “Oh my gosh, Addi. I love the new hair!” She didn't need my voice so soaked in sarcasm to understand my point.

  This is what we did; we picked and pulled at each other until the skin was taut and all we felt was an undying love.

  “Ass! Is this the channel?”

  I could feel her nervous energy entering the conversation with her words as she crossed her legs, like she was about to do that funny ass yoga she did every morning. With one eye roll, I tried to lighten the mood before saying, “Yes, Addi, it's the right channel.”

  Messing that up wasn't push or pull; it was punishable by death.

  The title card came up on the show before anything else and now I was nervous. My wife was playing the girl I used to love, and I was sure they were going to make me the villain, even in a made up world.

  I came to peace with it. I was always going to be the villain. The only opinion that truly mattered was Addi’s. I was her superhero, and that was the only truth I needed.

  I watched Addi resemble Layla on the screen, complete with a wig and plain clothing, waiting to feel the poison creep back into my heart… but it never did. Now all I felt was resentment for wasting so much time letting myself think a one-way road was what I deserved. Layla blurred my vision in every way. I saw myself as a villain, unwanted, unloved… just because that was how she saw me.

  Addi was a lot of things; reassuring wasn’t something she did naturally. Maybe she physically couldn't. Maybe that was a job saved for people who feel whole. That was their contribution to society: to reassure us.

  I woke up and stared up at Addi straddling my lap. Still half asleep, I reached for my blunt that I knew was on the nightstand. Lighting up the end between my lips, I felt Addi’s hips slide against mine and her wetness coating my length without being inside her. My dick was already jumping into action before I was even comprehending what was happening.

  “Morning, husband. I'm never gonna get tired of that, ya know.”

  “I'm not a sex machine, you know.”

  Her smile turned into a shameless giggle, while her hips kept working up and down my length. She was slowly killing me. This girl had a one-way line to my dick, and they communicated without me.

  She pushed her hips up enough for her hand to guide my tip inside her, and I felt the rush of a high before my pot could kick in. “Goddamn, Addi…”

  I watched her legs shake, like she was pre-orgasming already, when she took my blunt and sucked out the high, while blowing her exhale into my mouth when she leaned down. I felt my dick jerk against her tightness, like it wasn't enough to be inside her and get high with her.

  She also had a direct line to my heart, and thankfully, I was included in that.

  I pushed her down, craving more than her fucking teasing today. I pushed her legs open as far as they'd go and rested my palms on her inner thighs, holding them down while I watched my length disappear inside her, hugging every inch and begging me to come.

  Looking down at her, I had to compose myself before trying to speak. “How many times are you gonna let me fuck you without a condom before you reassure me you're on the pill?”

  “I didn't think you were the kind of man who needed reassurance.” I caught the small smile she was trying to conceal, but she was doing a poor job as I picked up my pace.

  I didn't let up. I wanted to push her over the edge and watch her face freeze mid moan, because her body gave up before she did mentally. I watched her inhale, and her nails raked down my chest. She did like leaving her mark, like anyone else could handle either of us. We didn't need warning signs.

  After pushing her over the ed
ge and proceeding to come inside her for the umpteenth time, I showered and headed out for coffee. Addi’s pussy was magic, but magic wasn’t caffeine. I was going to soak up the five minute drive to Intuition as long as I could before we actually moved to Boston before her transfer was complete.

  I was still able to work anywhere. I had even more power now after letting Hector know he had a rat in his circle. Now I had freedom, more traveling to oversee shipments, and I racked in more rewards for selling less than I used to.

  Addi screamed upstairs, and I let my Intuition to-go cup hit the counter with a thud, not caring about caffeine. I wasn't athletic, but I sure as hell ran up the stairs so fast I wasn't sure if my feet hit any of them.

  I knew I had enemies now, more than before. Amherst was so off the map I thought this counted as hiding in plain sight.

  My heart and mind were racing with adrenaline and possibilities when I pushed the door open wider to find her jumping on the bed. You could take all the fake from Addi, but the dramatic? It was imbedded in her soul and every bit authentic.

  “Hunter! The Best Years got picked up! I have to fly to LA tonight to film more episodes!”

  I didn't mind not having roots. Addi being summoned to LA to shoot more episodes was a complete coincidence, when I had to visit Tinseltown in a few days.

  “Good, because Hector wants me there for a drop.”

  She stopped jumping, and instead, she wrapped her arms around my neck, sinking onto her knees and bringing me with her.

  “I love you, Hunter, with every part of me... and my twenty personalities.”

  “Just twenty, huh?”

  She laughed into my chest before smacking my arm and trying to shift her mouth into shock, even though laughter had its grip on her.

  It took me awhile to feel like I belonged anywhere. I tried with good people, bad people, places, changing who I was for five years, and concealing parts of me I knew were harder to accept. Now I knew home was wherever she was.

  Addi

  I didn't feel like a new person, like everyone tells you when you fall in love. I expected every part of me to be a new person—one without the resentment and the self-doubt, and one who didn't wear a fake tan like armor—but I was just the best version of myself now.

  After washing off the fake tan and pounds of makeup, Hunter didn't look at me any differently. His eyes still got smoky when he looked at me, like a storm was on the forefront—an emotional one.

  Hunter was my secret weapon in auditions and the acting classes I was taking, while I postponed my actual classes with Mister. I was avoiding him and, honestly, campus altogether, if it meant possibly running into him. I was a different person now, but that didn’t mean I wanted to see a married man beg me to keep making him happy, because his life didn’t.

  Even though throwing I’m married now in his face would be so satisfying.

  My master list did its job of matching how bad I let myself feel in comparison to others. Hunter showed me how to ignore what people say and listen to myself.

  My soul was singing a beautifully broken song I could put on repeat and sway to. I came to love the melody.

  We were spending more and more time in LA, no longer shooting the show, but doing press and photo shoots that came along with promoting it. Tonight wasn't any different. My agent called it ‘Upfronts’ when a network rolled out their new shows and invited the press to hopefully hype it up. I filmed an entire season of The Best Years, and I still wasn't used to any of this. I didn't want to meet the people. I already had fucked up morale and was holding onto the rest of me with a firm grip.

  I stepped out of the car carefully, minding the dress that was on loan from Armani, and feeling something I hadn’t yet (it was on my dead master list): nervous. I was never nervous, but seeing the carpet I was going to walk down, putting myself, my real self, out there for people to judge, gave me severe PTSD flashbacks.

  I stood there frozen, trying to compose myself and picture which character in my head best suited this moment, just like picking armor. That was the one thing about acting I loved: playing so many roles that after a while, it made it hard for anyone to know who you really were.

  I felt Hunter’s arm slide along my lower back, as his lips brushed my ear. “There's only one you, and I love you. Fuck what people think.”

  As his words hit my ear with a warmth, I realized I didn't need to hide behind characters or a fake tan and red lips. His love was all the armor I needed.

  We slowly walked up to the carpet with my network’s logo patterned behind me sprinkled in with sponsors on the black background. My dress was sleek white that almost matched my hair falling at my thighs and displaying just how pasty I was, just like my dad. Hunter’s arm and eyes didn't leave my body once, making the photographers beg even more to know who the tall, slender, muscled man with the messy bun was.

  “Addileigh! Addileigh! Who's your date?” I couldn’t pinpoint the person speaking on the other side of the flashing cameras.

  I couldn't help the giggles pouring from my already painful smile, when I answered him: “The best chance I ever took.”

  It was another fifteen hour day on the lot filming the second season. I was running on the good news of being picked up for another season and coffee by hour ten. Luckily, I didn't find Layla to be too complex. She was to the point and struggled with love the way we all do, learning to do it the right way.

  Palmer was a natural behind the camera. She knew exactly how to evoke whatever she wanted. She'd leave the hard scenes for last on purpose so that your body was ready to give out by hour fifteen, and the emotions hung on you like wardrobe.

  I was piling pasta on my plate, when my phone rang, and I immediately answered without even checking who it was.

  “Just finishing up here. Want me to pick you up?”

  That was what I forced him to start every sentence with after a drop or really anything Hector wanted him to do. I knew for privacy reasons he couldn’t say anything on an open phone line, so that was my compromise. My lungs never really breathed enough air until I heard his sultry voice speak those words.

  Letting out a sigh, I looked down at my plate of pasta when my publicist came over. “Addileigh! That’s carbs. You never eat those. What… are you pregnant?”

  I knew her sarcasm was in full swing, but my husband on the other end of the phone only picked up the question not her laughing after letting him in on the joke.

  “What did she say?”

  Part of me wanted to jump in and claim I had my period, claim I was coming down with some kind of ailment that made you crave food instead of detests it. None of that would be true. I hadn’t had my period in three months and as much as I wanted to convince myself I was overworked and it was being scared away by stress – I wasn’t. I thrived for ten or fifteen hour days doing what I loved doing and going home to the only thing I loved more: Hunter.

  We both knew the risks of not using protection, and neither of us spoke of it. Now we had to.

  I shooed my publicist away and said into the phone, “Can you come to the lot? I still have three more hours here.”

  He must have heard the seriousness in my voice dropping from my normal bubbly to a deeper tone. “Addileigh, this isn’t funny. Your jokes are cruel and unusual punishment.”

  Our cat and mouse games became even more sinful after we admitted to loving each other. Instead of teasing and taunting until our skin became tough, now we played jokes on each other that took our breath away. Worst case scenarios rubbed in each other’s faces until we couldn’t hold the laughter back. We weren’t much for foreplay; this was our version.

  Except this wasn’t one of those times.

  “Hunter.”

  With his name rolling off my tongue, silence overwhelmed the other end of the phone line to my ear. He knew I was serious, all foreplay aside.

  “I’m gonna call him Danger,” he said so matter of fact, just like when he told me I'd marry him.

  A smile spread
like a wildfire across my face, sparking my light grays to shimmer even brighter with all the stress dissolving. I could lean into the idea of pregnancy now that Hunter knew.

  “How do you know it’ll be a boy?”

  “Because the world isn’t ready for another you. No one will survive.”

  So much for joking aside.

  A boy named Danger? That sounded about right. His name would literally be a warning sign: ”Proceed with caution,” because he’s not gonna steal hearts; he’s going to break them.

  Available Now

  The Amherst Sinners Series

  The Best Years (Book One)

  The Best Moments (Book Two)

  The Best Mistakes (Book Three)

  Available Soon

  TBF (Caden’s Novel)

  The Celestial Bodies Series

  Awful Curse (Book One)

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  For a preview of Caden’s full length novel keep going…

  I was pretty much untouchable when it came to high school. Nothing was out of reach, too hard, or even too serious. Everything was a comical joke wrapped up in my pretty grin and rock hard abs I took pride in. Most people around me used the phrase, “Don’t want to be just considered a pretty face.”

  But, that was exactly what I wanted.

  Girls didn't fall at my feet; they shoved girls out of the way to get to me. Some real cutthroat shit. When girls are willing to fight over you, you quickly learn what else they're willing to do for you too—homework plagiarized, drinks that don’t require an ID, killing the loneliness one fuck at a time…

  I could say, “Fuck my best friend, Ollie…” and I'm sure they'd ask, “Are you going to watch?”