All of You (A Rebel Desire Novel Book 3)

by Fabiola Francisco

  ALL OF YOU

  Fabiola Francisco

  Copyright © 2018 Fabiola Francisco

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Books by Fabiola Franciso

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Epilogue

  Sneak Peek: Memories of Us

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Perfectly Imperfect

  Restoring Series

  Restoring Us (Complete Series)

  Resisting You (Aiden and Stacy Novella)

  Sweet on You Series

  Sweet on Wilde

  Whiskey Nights

  Red Lights, Black Hearts

  Twisted in You

  Rebel Desire Series

  Lovin' on You

  Love You Through It

  All of You

  Sign up for Fabiola’s newsletter to receive the latest news, sneak peeks, sales and other updates.

  For my parents

  Thank you for always supporting my dreams and encouraging me to use my own wings.

  I throw my gym bag across the living room and slam the front door.

  “Whoa!” I hear an exclamation.

  I look forward. “What are you doing here?” I bite out.

  “I live here,” Cole, my bandmate and roommate, states.

  “Doesn’t seem like it lately,” I mumble.

  “Aw, you jealous, brother?”

  “Fuck off. Not in the mood for your bullshit.”

  Cole takes a long, hard look at me and tilts his head. “What happened?” Gone is his mocking tone.

  “Nothing.”

  “Suit yourself. I’m leaving for Bri’s.”

  “See ya.” Wouldn’t wanna be ya. But I would want to be him. I thought I was on my way to having what he’s found with Bri. What Cash and Olivia have. Hell, I’ll even take Ryder and Jen’s inappropriateness if it meant I had someone by my side. My friends all found their person, and I lost the woman I thought could be mine.

  Maybe it’s a good thing. With the tour having ended, it’s probably for the best that I’m single again. Again. Was I ever not single? Not sure what I had could count as a relationship, except for me it was. I was fooled.

  A man should have the balls to claim the woman he wants. Unless his balls were clipped and given to a cat to play with. And for what?

  I sigh and stand by the glass doors leading to the patio. Staring at nothing in particular, my vision blurs until I’m watching a play by play of the last few months. I run my hand over my face and bearded jaw. I should shave. She loved my beard, and I need to erase her completely so I can be on top of my game to work on new music. No way am I going to be like Cash or Cole when their hearts were broken. Nah, I did enough talking to them about getting their shit together to fall down that same trap.

  I move away from the living room and into the kitchen for a cold one. It’s quiet in here. I got used to being crammed into a small space for months. Now I’m alone. Even though Cole has been spending more time with Bri outside of here, I had Christie to keep me company. Now I’ve got no one because all my friends have girlfriends and wives and I’m stuck at home with a pity party for one. It’s not like I can go to Riot. That will only frustrate me more, seeing her there, probably flirting with other men as she serves them drinks.

  I chug the beer and grab my guitar, playing the tunes of our newer songs. Music always takes me away. Although, at the moment, I hate the fact that I’m famous. I hate that I have the band’s name tied to me.

  What a bitch.

  Fresh beer and guitar in hand, I get ready for a long fucking night.

  “Fuck.”

  “Shhh…”

  I shift around, wondering who the fuck is in my room. When the whispers become louder, I groan and peel my eyes open. What the…

  I turn my head and realize I’m in the living room.

  “What the fuck?” I croak and clear my throat.

  “You woke him up.”

  I sit up and look to the left to see Bri and Cole in the kitchen. I scrub my face and look at the empty beer bottles on the coffee table. My guitar lies on the floor.

  “What time is it?” I look around for my phone.

  “It’s early, Jason. Go back to sleep, we’ll leave in a few,” Bri says and looks at Cole with a stern expression. I chuckle.

  “It’s okay. I guess I fell asleep on the couch.”

  “With a graveyard of beer bottles,” Cole juts his chin toward the coffee table. “Fuck, sorry, babe.” He looks at Bri, who smiles sadly, and hugs her to him.

  I pick up the bottles and drop them in the trash. Cole whispers something to Bri and jogs up the stairs.

  “What’s going on?” Bri leans against the counter and eyes me.

  “Nothin.’” I shrug, demonstrating as much nonchalance as I can. I laugh as Bri squints her eyes and looks at me. “Really, I’m okay.”

  “I don’t believe you. How’s Christie?” I know she’s testing me, but I groan regardless. “Oh man, Jason. Did you guys break up?”

  “It’s no big deal.”

  “Clearly, it is.”

  “Nah, we were only dating for a few months. Nothing serious,” I wave my hand.

  “It may have been a few months, but I know you really liked her. She seemed like a nice woman.”

  I laugh dryly. She did seem that way, until she proved otherwise. “It just didn’t work out,” I tell Bri.

  “If you need to talk, you know we’re all here for you. Hell, you were there for me when that black hole was sucking me away.”

  I hug Bri and thank her. She’s stronger than anyone I know, to overcome the loss she did and trust life enough to find love again.

  “I’m glad you’re good. What are you guys up to today?”

  “We’re going to Pinewood Social for brunch and then some games. Do you want to come?” Her eyes light up, trying to lighten my mood.

  “I’m good. Should stay home and clean up this mess and shit.”

  “Are you sure? We won’t have to talk about… you know.” She nods her head.

  “I’m positive. Thanks, though. I appreciate it. And listen, if you could—”

  Bri places her hand on my arm. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

  “Thanks.” I blow out a gust of air.

  “They’re going to figure it out soon, though.”

  “I know, but I want a few days to process it all,” I explain.

  She nods, s
miling.

  As soon as Cole comes back down, they leave me. Instead of staying inside the house with the same silence that led to me to drink too much and fall asleep on the couch, I get dressed and go out for a run. I need to clear my head. We’ve been back from tour a couple weeks, and I wish we were back on the road. I know the guys are happy to be back with their women, but having returned to the reality that waited for me sucks.

  Anyone who hears my thoughts would think I’m a pussy, but I’ve always liked being in a relationship. Before Christie, it had been a while since I’d been in a serious relationship, with the band picking up momentum and stuff. After we became well known, it was difficult finding a woman who cared about me and not Rebel Desire or their connection to us. I thought Christie was that woman. I could see it being long term, and then she ruined everything.

  No more thinking about her. I focus on my neighborhood as I jog up and down streets, sweat covering my body. A few teenagers hang outside, but overall it’s quiet. Cole and I chose this place because of the tranquility and gated community. He’ll probably move in with Bri soon, though. I won’t be surprised when he drops that news. Since the new year started they’ve been spending more and more time together. Now that they’ve survived their first tour, it will be a matter of time. I’m happy for him, but more so for Bri. Although, that leaves me as the seventh wheel when we’re all together.

  Fuck that.

  I hook on my headphones, turn on the music on my phone, and pick up my pace, clearing my mind for a while.

  I slow my pace as the final beats of my playlist end and take in my surroundings. I ran way further than my usual route. Thankful for my phone, I check my location and find a diner half a mile away. In desperate need of water after a night of one too many beers and pushing my lungs to their limit, I find the diner and walk in, lowering my cap over my eyes to draw little attention to my identity.

  The smell of stale coffee and greasy food fills me as I take a seat at the counter. This isn’t like my usual eating spots, but I gladly take the cup of water the waitress places in front of me and pick up the sticky menu.

  “Let me know when you’re ready,” she says as she leaves to take another order.

  I read through each item, undecided about what to eat.

  “I recommend the pancakes,” the waitress returns. “Joyce makes them herself, and I don’t know what she puts in the mix, but they’re the best I’ve ever had.”

  “Joyce?” I look up at the waitress. I see the initial surprise in her wide eyes, but she doesn’t give me away.

  “The owner.”

  “Oh.” I glance back down and put the menu flat on the counter. “I’ll take an order of pancakes.”

  She nods and walks away to put my order in. I resist the urge to swivel on the stool as I wait for my food. Mostly truck drivers are here, probably getting in a quick bite before heading back out on the road. The red vinyl squeaks as they shift on their seats, and the once white tiles are permanently gray. I’m starting to regret the decision to eat here. Hopefully they keep the kitchen cleaner than they do the front area.

  How far did I run? I’ve never seen a place as uncared for as this in my neighborhood. Must’ve taken two left turns and ended up on a different side of town.

  “Can I get you anything else to drink while you wait?” the waitress, Cassidy Rae, according to her name tag, asks. I look behind her and see fresh-squeezed orange juice.

  “OJ, please.”

  “You got it.” She returns as fast as she turned away and places the cup next to my water glass. No mention of my name or the band, she just quietly drops it and goes back to work.

  I watch her talk to an older woman and nod once before going into the kitchen.

  Cassidy Rae. I like that name.

  A few minutes later, the buttery smell of pancakes hits me and one of our songs is ringing through the speakers. Cassidy Rae hums to the song as she sets the coffee maker to brew. She’s pretty, in a simplistic way. Her hair is back in a bun and her eyes a stunning green. No layers of makeup and bright lips adorning her face, unlike the fans we get at our meet and greets. I finally straighten my back and lift my head instead of hiding behind the bill of my cap.

  “You like the song?” I ask her with a smirk.

  “Huh? Oh, yeah.” Her cheeks turn pink.

  “Thanks for the recommendation, the pancakes were great.” I drop a fifty on the counter and smile. “Keep the change, Cassidy Rae.”

  She mumbles a thanks, turning a darker shade of pink, as I stand and stretch. I take one last glance before I leave and see her gasp when she notices the big tip I left her. Grateful eyes meet mine, and I smile. Not sure what her deal is, but a job like this can’t pay much. If I can pay it forward, why not?

  I used to long for romance. I would dream of meeting someone, being courted by a man willing to accept me for who I am as we’d fall in love seamlessly. It would be gentle. Yeah, we’d have challenges, but we would come out of them with a stronger bond. Then, I woke up. I realized that love isn’t the way I had portrayed it in my imagination. I was stuck on an illusion of beauty that is non-existent. Something I learned quickly. Instead, I reek of fried food and cleaning products.

  I look to my right and sigh. I wouldn’t trade the lifeline I’m looking at for anything, even if that kind of love existed.

  I cuddle further into the couch, pulling her with me even though I should put her to sleep on the bed so she could rest more comfortably. Some days I need to hold her a little tighter to remind myself that life isn’t all shitty.

  Days like today, where I had to serve a handsome man, who reminded me of that lost dream. He stood out like a sore thumb between all the truckers, but when I realized who he was, my surprise was painted on me.

  I sigh and look around the small space. Our home. Can I even call this a home? We’re crammed in this mobile home, but it’s the best I can do for us. One day, hopefully, I’ll be able to get us a real place. A place with more than one bedroom and a decent size living room where Rae can play, maybe a desk for her to do her homework. My eyes flutter closed for a brief moment as I imagine a place like that. Unless I win the lottery, I’m not sure that will ever happen. Can’t win if you don’t play.

  Rae’s light breathing soothes me, and I carry her to the bed so we can rest. I’ll have to be at the diner tomorrow morning, and Abigail will be here early to watch Rae for me. I’ve come across good things living in a not so good place. Abigail is one of them. It’s a blessing she lives next door.

  Holding my baby girl, I close my eyes and sleep a bit. She’s growing up so fast, and I want time to slow down. She’s the best thing in my life, and without her, I’m not sure where I’d be.

  Every time the door opens, I look at who enters, in hopes that I’ll see the same face as yesterday. It’s stupid. Why would someone like him come back to a place like this? This is the best I can do, and I love working for Joyce, but this isn’t the kind of place famous musicians hang out in. Hell, it’s barely a place for a single mom to be a part of, but I need to survive this life. If I had gone to college and gotten a degree, I may not be here right now. Maybe I’d be living in a cushy apartment in downtown.

  If that were my reality, I wouldn’t have my little girl. It’s bittersweet. I wouldn’t trade her for all the riches in the world, but I do wish our financial situation were different. I want to offer her the best life, and right now it’s subpar at best.

  I wipe down the counter and refill coffee cups.

  “Hey, suga, can I have a couple biscuits to take on the road?” one of the older drivers asks.

  “Yup.” I give the order to the kitchen and tend to a few other tables. Humming the songs that play, I think back to my upbringing. Sadness washes over me. I do miss seeing my parents every day, but it is what it is.

  I take the biscuits in a to-go container to the man who ordered them, along with his check.

  “How much to get you wrapped up in a container and out on the road wit
h me to satisfy my hunger?”

  I cringe at the old man’s words and a shiver runs down my spine. I choose to ignore him, knowing men like this just want your attention, and walk away. As much as I love Joyce, this job doesn’t pay enough to deal with people like him. Unfortunately, this is a normal occurrence. When I grab the check from his table, he boldly, and disrespectfully, grabs my behind.

  Tearing away, I look at him. “I’d suggest you treat me with more respect than that or we’ll have to call the authorities. We have zero tolerance to wandering hands or harassment of any type.”

  “What’s going on, babe?” Ryan, the cook, comes out from the kitchen.

  “Reminding our customers what respect is.” I look at the sorry excuse for a man. Ryan looks at the man and smirks. I know that smile. It’s the one he wears when he wants to kick someone’s ass. I put my hand on his arm. “I think he got the message.” Joyce will be pissed if Ryan gets into a fight with a customer, even if it is to defend me.

  “Bullshit.” He looks at the money in my hand. “If I were you, sir, I’d leave. I think leaving her your change as a tip is the least you can do after disrespecting a woman. Now, get out before I bust your ass.”

  Ryan waits until the man leaves. He takes his time grabbing his bag and walking out, as if Ryan’s threat was a bag of shit.

  “Thanks,” I turn to Ryan. “But you know if you got physical Joyce would’ve fired you.”

  “She can’t live without me,” he jokes. “Let’s get back to work.” He squeezes my shoulder.

  I nod and check on the other customers. I hate causing a scene, but I refuse to let men think they have more power over me because of their gender. I’m grateful Ryan has always had my back. He’s the only other younger person working here, and he watches over all of us. We’re a family, a small one, but it’s all I need. Without them, I’d be out on the street somewhere. Thanks to Joyce, I have a job. Thanks to Maureen, another waitress, I have a place to live. It wasn’t long after I started working here that she recommended the mobile home I’m living in. A friend of hers was renting it and gave me a great deal since Maureen sent me.