by K. A. Linde
OTHER TITLES BY K.A. LINDE
AVOIDING SERIES
Avoiding Commitment (#1)
Avoiding Responsibility (#2)
Avoiding Intimacy (#2.5)
Avoiding Decisions (#1.5)
Avoiding Temptation (#3)
RECORD SERIES
Off the Record
On the Record
For the Record
TAKE ME DUET
Take Me for Granted
Take Me with You
ALL THAT GLITTERS SERIES
Diamonds
Following Me
Gold, All That Glitters, Book Two
By K.A. Linde
Copyright © 2015 by K.A. Linde
All rights reserved.
Cover Designer: Sarah Hansen, Okay Creations, www.okaycreations.com
Editor and Interior Designer: Jovana Shirley, Unforeseen Editing, www.unforeseenediting.com
Poem reprinted with permission © r.m. drake, instagram.com/rmdrk
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Visit my website at www.kalinde.com
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Thirty-One
Thirty-Two
Thirty-Three
Thirty-Four
Thirty-Five
Thirty-Six
Thirty-Seven
Thirty-Eight
Thirty-Nine
Forty
Forty-One
Forty-Two
Forty-Three
Forty-Four
Forty-Five
Forty-Six
Forty-Seven
Forty-Eight
Forty-Nine
Struck from the Record
Acknowledgments
About the Author
so ask yourself if you are willing
to burn. because the moment you
open yourself to me, i will have
no choice but to scorch everything
that defines you. and without
regret, i will devour and i will
leave nothing behind.
—r.m. drake
“HELL HATH NO FURY LIKE A WOMAN SCORNED.”
That was the damn truth.
Bryna twirled her Harry Winston B diamond necklace around her finger and parted her pouty lips. She had decided on a gold glitter Chanel dress and hot-as-fuck black Jimmy Choos, and when she walked into Las Vegas State’s local nightclub, Posse, all eyes turned her way—just the way she liked it.
She was still getting used to her new life in college. No annoying cling-ons. No obnoxious stepbrother. No wannabe stepmother. No reminders of what had happened her senior year when her life was shot to hell. No reminders of him.
Just her scarlet letter hanging around her neck and a new crowd to rule.
This was the life.
“Bryna! Over here!” Trihn called from the bar.
Bryna fluttered her fingers at her friend and walked her way. It was strange, in a way, to have friends. In high school, she always had Gates Hartman, her movie star ex-boyfriend, but that had crashed and burned. Otherwise, she usually considered other girls as either followers or competition. With Trihn, there was none of that.
Trihn Hamilton, a name she only used professionally, was model tall and exotic with roots in both Vietnam and Brazil. She had endless brown-to-blonde ombre hair and slightly upturned eyes. Plus, she could dance circles around everyone knew. Not to mention, she was the nicest, most sure-of-herself person Bryna had ever met. They had met in this very club the first week of school. Trihn had confidently commented on Bryna’s next season Christian Louboutins. After a night of shots and dancing, a friendship had blossomed.
“Look at you rocking the Chanel tonight after the big game,” Trihn said. She pulled Bryna in for a hug. “I think glitter is your color.”
Bryna laughed. “Always. Look at you in your rocker grunge.”
“Excuse me. This is designer rocker grunge,” Trihn corrected her.
She wore skintight black leather pants, a ripped white crop, and strappy Gucci high heels she had probably gotten when she modeled for them last year. Bryna normally thought model types were dumb as bricks, so she was constantly surprised that they got along and that Trihn had a real personality.
“Ah!” a girl screamed, barreling into Bryna. “You look fucking hot!”
“I’m surprised you’re not still in uniform,” Bryna said.
Stacia Palmer was on the cheerleading team with Bryna. Her father was the head football coach at their biggest rival, the University of Southern California, and that would have made her the enemy, but she had come to LV State to stay out of her father’s shadow. It also explained her obsession with football players. Her reputation as a jersey-chasing whore really endeared her to Bryna. She appreciated the honesty.
“Oh, please.” Stacia flipped her bleach-blonde bangs out of her eyes. “All the guys here know I’m a cheerleader. Plus, Blaine isn’t even here yet. I just made a circuit to see if I could find him.”
Blaine was the starting quarterback of the LV State Gamblers football team. Stacia was determined to hook up with him. Her real goal though was to marry an NFL quarterback.
“You’re ridiculous. How can you even stand college guys?” Bryna asked.
“Don’t talk to me about older guys. Blaine is a senior, Bri. That’s good enough for me.”
Bryna arched an eyebrow. “Whatever you’re into.”
“Like Eric.” Stacia sighed heavily. “I would be very into him if he were still playing.”
Bryna’s eyes wandered through the crowd of football players to where Eric Wilkins was standing. She had been very into him on her school visit here last semester. Sometimes, she still was when she forgot why they would never hook up. She was pretty sure none of her friends and certainly no one on the football team actually knew the reason.
Eric was gay. That was why he never tried to hook up with her on her visit and why he hadn’t talked to her since.
“I don’t think you’re his type,” Bryna said.
“Whatever. I heard the guys talking about how he dated that psychotic head case last year. What was her name?”
Bryna raised her eyebrows. She hadn’t heard anything about this. Must have been one hell of a cover story.
“Audrey,” Trihn said.
“That’s it.”
“Why did they break up?” Bryna asked.
Stacia shrugged. “Who cares? She was a crazy bitch. But now, he’s on the market. We can all take our chances with him. What do you say, B?”
She laughed and shook her head. “I don’t think I’m his type either.”
“Bri, you’re everyone’s
type,” Trihn said.
“I appreciate the sentiment.”
Normally, she wouldn’t disagree with Trihn. Bryna had perfect long blonde hair, an impressive rack, and a killer body to boot. Most guys couldn’t tear their eyes away from her, and she always enjoyed the attention. After her disastrous senior year, she had especially enjoyed that attention this summer while lying on various European beaches and hooking up with gorgeous exotic men whom she couldn’t understand.
“So then, go ask him out.” Trihn nudged Bryna.
Stacia cracked up. “Ask him out? You want Bryna to ask him out?”
Bryna rolled her eyes. “You know that’s not happening. Do you know who I am?”
“The elusive Bryna Turner,” Trihn said with a wink. “Come on. You should be confident enough to be able to ask him out. I’d do it.”
“You do it then and let him turn you down. I’m not interested.”
“Well, I’m interested,” Stacia said.
The girls didn’t get it. Bryna never considered herself a good person. In fact, she normally figured she was a class-A bitch. But she wasn’t about to tell people that Eric was gay. He obviously wasn’t out, and the last thing she wanted was for it to get back that she was the one who had outed him. She admired him too much to spew venom.
After all, as the defensive back, he had led LV State to a national championship before he’d completely blown out his knee, ending his career. Now, he was a student assistant coach for the team, which meant they always hung in the same circles.
She would keep her mouth shut and tolerate her friend’s ridiculous behavior.
“You know what?” Bryna said with a smile. A plan was already formulating in her mind. “I’ll go ask him out.”
“Yes!” Trihn cried, thinking she had won.
“But…when he’s not interested, you’ll get a big, fat I-told-you-so, and you bitches will need to find guys to buy us the next round of shots.”
“Easy for us,” Trihn said. “There’s no way he’s not interested.”
Bryna smirked. This is almost too easy.
She honed in on Eric. Tall and still built like he played ball with short-cropped dark hair and an easy smile, he was easy to spot, even in the crowd of football players. The guys he was hanging out with had a bunch of girls desperately clinging to them, but Eric was without one. He might have told everyone else that it was because of his psycho ex, but she knew the truth. They always said all the hot ones are gay.
“Hey, Eric,” Bryna said, interrupting their conversation. “Can I talk with you a minute?”
She felt the eyes of all the other football players heating her skin, but she kept her focus on Eric. She wet her lips and looked up at him from under her long lashes. One of the other guys murmured something vulgar under his breath, and Eric shoved him.
“Sure, Bryna. What’s up?” he asked nonchalantly.
Bryna pointed her French-manicured finger toward a more private location. “Mind if we talk over there?”
He nodded and then followed her away. The guys immediately catcalled to him.
He flipped them off before returning his attention to her. “What’s going on?”
When she stared up into his honey-hazel eyes, her smile widened. God, he is fucking hot. She always thought so. Too fucking bad.
“Bryna?”
She snapped out of her trance and remembered why the fuck she was here in the first place. “Do you want to go out sometime?”
Eric blankly stared back at her. He looked surprised, but underneath the shock was something else. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
“You’re asking me out?”
“I know. Shocker, right?” She tried to play it off as if it wasn’t a big deal. She had never done this before. Mostly because she didn’t need to. She was hot, and guys flocked to her. She was just proving a point.
“Look, I…I don’t think you’re my type.” He scratched the back of his head. “Nothing against girls like you, but they’re not for me.”
Bryna’s mouth fell open. “Girls like me?”
“You know what I mean.” His eyes fell to the floor.
There it was in his voice again. Is that…disgust?
“No, I don’t think I do. I’ve been here for a month. What exactly is my reputation that makes you say ‘girls like me’?”
Eric sighed, and his eyes found hers once more. “You know what people say about you…about all the cheerleaders,” he clarified quickly. “No offense. I’m not into that.”
“Them now and not just me?”
She had expected him to turn her down. She had expected him to say no, that he didn’t want to go out with her. But she sure as hell hadn’t expected him to basically call her a slut-bag whore.
Girls like me? What the hell did that even mean?
She hadn’t slept with anyone since arriving at LV State. While she had flirted, she had been wary of getting too close to anyone. The last thing she wanted was for feelings to get involved and fuck her up again. She preferred meaningless hot sex. And it was harder to come by with someone who went to her school, knowing she could inevitably run into that person again.
“I don’t want to get into it, Bryna. But it’s…cute that you asked me.”
Cute.
He had said it was cute. This had gone from irritating to humiliating with one word. What an asshole!
“Maybe call up your friend Gates. He seemed into you.”
“We’re not friends anymore, but thanks,” she spat sarcastically.
Bryna turned to walk away, but Eric reached out and grabbed her arm.
“Hey. I didn’t mean to upset you. I didn’t know you two weren’t friends anymore.”
“Let me go,” she growled.
Eric immediately dropped her arm. “Whatever.”
He had that look again, like he was already disgusted with her, and her harsh tone had only made it worse.
Bryna stormed away, back to her friends. She struggled to find composure.
The thought of Gates irritated her to no end. He had been in love with her, and everything had gone straight to shit. She hadn’t even talked to him since he kicked her out of his movie premiere, and now, Eric Wilkins had brought him up.
Ugh!
And that only made her think of one thing. Images flooded her mind. The most prominent of them all was him.
Jude.
She took a deep breath and shut down. She locked away the image of him. She refused to think about the man she had once loved telling her he was married with a son, and then him turning around, following his wife out of the banquet room, and leaving her forever.
She swallowed hard. This wasn’t right. Jude’s name held no power over her. Never again would he hold any power over her.
She shouldn’t let this get to her. Gates was out of her life. Jude was out of her life. And Eric Wilkins didn’t matter.
“SO, WHAT DID HE SAY?” Trihn asked. She planted her hand on her hip and gave Bryna an expectant look, thinking she had the cat in the bag.
“No. He said no,” she said tightly.
“What?” Stacia asked. Her mouth dropped open in her overly dramatic style. “I can’t believe it.”
“Well, believe it.”
“I mean…have you ever been rejected before?” Stacia asked. “I haven’t. What was it like? Did it suck?”
“I’m giving you my big, fat fucking I-told-you-so. I knew he’d say no,” she said as if everything else he had said didn’t bother her in the slightest. “Now, where are my drinks, bitches?”
“Maybe we should verify,” Trihn said.
Bryna shrugged her shoulders. “Confirm if you must, but Eric is going to tell you the same damn thing. I think a better use of our time would be to find some guys in VIP to buy me those drinks.”
Trihn still looked skeptical but acquiesced to Bryna’s suggestion. They walked across the room and to the upstairs VIP lounge. The bouncer checked them out first before allowing them access. In
L.A., Bryna wouldn’t have even needed a second glance. If the bouncer didn’t know her, then her promoter friend, Max, would always put her name on the list. The scene was so different here.
Trihn swished her hair to one side and smiled at the bouncer. “Thanks!”
Bryna kept from rolling her eyes. Trihn, the eternally nice one.
“You don’t have to talk to him,” Bryna murmured.
“What?” Trihn asked.
“The bouncer. You don’t have to talk to him.”
“Ignore, Bri,” Stacia said. “You know she’s a bitch.”
“I am,” she conceded. “But I stand by my statement. Your approach to bouncers might be different in Brooklyn, but isn’t everything?”
“Hey now. Brooklyn gets a lot of heat, but it fits my image,” Trihn said with a smile. “Plus, you can’t have a fashion photographer for a father without living in an artsy area. You all should be glad I ended up with the fashion side and not the artsy side.”
“Trihn…you’re a design major. Does that not scream artsy to you?”
“At least I have a major,” she said, pointedly staring at Bryna.
“Whatever. I assume you lived your life like Dan from Gossip Girl.”
“I am not Lonely Boy!” Trihn cried.
Then, all three of them cracked up laughing at the ridiculous turn of their conversation.
“Drinks!” Bryna cried.
She ushered them away from the entrance. Once she reached the bar, she eyed the crowd and focused on her prey. She could see a couple of hot guys who would likely buy drinks for them with no more than a smile from her. The home game had brought in so many prospects.
Leaning forward against the bar, she let her chest pop over the top of her dress, and she winked at the bartender. “Maya!”
Maya fluttered her fingertips at them from the other side of the bar. The girls had quickly become regulars at Posse, and Maya was their favorite bartender. She finished pouring drinks for a group of frat douches and then sauntered all five-foot-ten inches of her luscious African-American caramel-toned body over to them. “Hey, babes. What can I get for you?”
Bryna pursed her lips and looked around the room. “Him and him and maybe him, too.” She pointed out each guy in turn.
