Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Acknowledgements
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
OTHER WORKS BY LEIGH ANN LUNSFORD
Copyright © 2017 by Leigh Ann Lunsford
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the author, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the email address below.
[email protected]
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Edited by Samantha Wiley (Proofreading by the Page)
Cover Design by Sassy Queens of Design
Dedication
As always . . . John and Evan.
This one has to have Pablo— AKA Honey Badger, Baby Badge, Baby, Buddha, Lil’ Buddy— he was bound and determined to co-write with me.
Prologue
“Come on, Aves.” Mason is rushing my process, as I stare up at the board and scan the lost and found ads. Something so small can mean the world to another. A lost coat—it isn’t a big deal for me, but to those less fortunate— it’s everything. See, I can afford a new coat, I don’t take that for granted. Besides, I like to see people smile. All the people.
“Mason, hush. Some of the stuff we won’t find, but I have a little money saved so we’ll need to hit a store.” In all my thirteen-year-old wisdom, I think this will fix everything. We’ve made it a scavenger hunt the last four times I’ve done this.
Mittens. We seek. We find.
Pets. We crawl under bushes, leave a trail of treats. Whatever it takes.
I haven’t jumped into missing people yet— I’m only thirteen.
We split up and pursue the items. Our very own search and rescue mission.
“I’ll be over there if you need me.” He makes his way to a group of girls— freshman, to our eighth grade. I roll my eyes.
Lee Lee bites her lip. “Sorry, Aves. I can’t help today. My dad is coming home.” The hope flares in her eyes. “But, here.” She shoves cash in my hand. “I’ve saved for a few weeks and momma let me do extra chores.” My eyes widen and my grin spreads.
“Thanks, Lee. Lee.”
“Aves, we can do this another time. Mason isn’t gonna help and Lee Lee is going home.” Caden states matter of fact, like he’s the ring leader of this group.
“No. It’s gonna be cold tomorrow. They need their winter coats.”
“Well, Lee Lee isn’t walking home alone.” He’s so bossy.
“Walk her home, Caden. I’ll reel Mason in and he’ll help. We’ll take care of Aves.” Deacon fixes the situation and I beam.
Right then . . . with all my foolishness and naïve heart— I fell in love with Deacon Douglas.
Until we turned fourteen. And I realized, DD was my best friend and destined for greatness.
“Give them to me, Aves. Those are too heavy for you.” I smile and blush at him. Alas, a new crush. Mason Adler makes me swoon.
“Thanks, Mason.” I whisper. I watch as he bends down and places the boxes in my mom’s trunk. “The kids will love all the presents.” I still do my lost and found, but this year we did a toy drive for underprivileged kids.
“I still say we should have done an auction.” He grins and I want to lick his dimple. “I would have brought in tons of money for a date with me.” He’s so cocky. With good reason.
“Mason,” I giggle. I can’t tell him the real reason I shot that idea down . . . I don’t want anyone else to date him. “We need to get going. Everyone else is meeting us there.” I’m thrilled he’s riding with me.
“I can’t. Melinda is picking me up in an hour.” He waggles his eyebrows at me. “Scored a date with a senior— and she drives.” My chest feels heavy and I blink to rid my eyes of the stinging tears. He kisses my forehead. “See you, Aves. Love you.”
At almost fifteen, I watched the boy I thought I was in love with saunter down the sidewalk to get busy in a car with a senior. And I realized, Mason fucking Adler is my best friend, destined to have his dick rot off unless a special girl tamed him. But, I love that big lug. He’s dried my tears, picked me up when I’ve fallen, cheered me on and helped with my many crusades. Silly schoolgirl crushes won’t ruin the underlying love and friendship we have.
Damn! I got caught up in this painting and I’ll never be ready in time. It’s the night of the Sadie Hawkins dance— being our junior year, we’re finally allowed to attend. I pull my hair over my shoulder and see blue streaks from the paint caked in my curls. Shit. I hurry to take care of the cleanup; soaking my brushes, closing up paints and hanging up my canvas to dry. I check the time again and if I rush, I won’t be too late.
Zander Haus. I took some advice from Lee Lee and asked the most sought after senior guy . . . and to my surprise he said yes. All my friends would be there— Deacon with Adriane, Lee Lee and Mason, Caden . . . I’m not sure who his date is. He hasn’t quite reached the status Mason has in the whore category, but he’s probably close.
Broody. It draws all the girls to him. Quiet. Studious. Gorgeous. He’s lethal— and my very best friend. Sometimes, I think we’re the only sane ones in this Brady Bunch. The six of us— we fit. Always have. With the exception of Adriane. That bitch resides in another universe, but I bite my tongue for the sake of harmony.
Rushing through my routine of getting ready, debating if I should wear my hair up to hide the paint . . . it would save time, but instead, I decide to pull the blue out— strand by strand.
It’s tedious but done. My hair is my biggest asset— and the largest part of me. Huge, spiral curls float down my back in the darkest of browns. I’m fun-size, not quite five foot, so I use what advantages I have. Slipping into my blue, mid-thigh, strapless dress I rush through the minimal make up I wear and sigh. Only fifteen minutes late . . . I hope my parents haven’t grilled Zander too much. It’s technically my first date, though I did the asking.
Making my way downstairs, being careful I don’t topple in heels, I’m shocked to see the Monroe’s sharing a drink with my parents. “Hey.” I search the room for my date. “Where’s Zander?”
“Change of plans, Aves.” I spin, hearing Caden’s voice. My breath catches at how good he looks in his suit— with a tie matching the blue of my dress. To perfection. “Zander isn’t coming.”
Tears flood my eyes. “Why?”
He steps closer and pulls me into the foyer. “Not now, gorgeous. We aren’t gonna ruin this night
. I’ll explain later.”
I trust him with no questions . . . he’s never steered me wrong. Our parents appear, take photos, laugh, and send us to the dance. The way his hands hold me during slow dances, his eyes twinkle when he looks at me, the protective way his arm wraps my waist, his smile when I trip in heels . . . it’s all new— and I like it.
That was the day I fell in love with Caden Monroe. And remained that way until he forgot.
Me.
Us.
Chapter One
Spring Break - Senior Year (High School)
Nothing is the same. I don’t know why we agreed to a trip, pretending our lives haven’t been turned upside down. Sure, we shortened it to four days instead of nine . . . but we’re missing Deacon— and the she-devil, Adriane. Their baby is due any day and so while we’re partying it up in Colorado at the Bud Light Spring Jam, they’re back home on baby arrival watch. It’s an entirely different scene during spring break from what we experience at Christmas with our family trips . . . most noticeably the females don’t believe in clothes this time of year, and the males don’t believe in chivalry. It full-fledged doesn’t exist here. Groping hands, grinding pelvises, crude words— nothing I haven’t been exposed to— three of my best friends are baseball players.
And the first person I run into . . . Zander. After learning he was trying to pop my cherry as the reason for accepting my invitation to the dance— it’s a struggle for me to stop myself from cussing him up one side and down the other. Until he smiled . . . and his dimple mesmerized me . . . along with the chocolate of his eyes . . . and the scruff decorating his face . . . and the smooth tone of his voice. All culprits played a hand in my listening to his apology, laughing and catching up. He could charm the panties off a nun— wearing a chastity belt. It isn’t like I have anything else occupying my time, lonely girl party of one— check. We arrived and my people dispersed. Mason is off fucking around . . . or fucking Lee Lee. That is an ensemble I don’t want to try on— but it works for them. I hope they use a bathroom, or broom closet, or the streets . . . I don’t want the pleasure of listening to them play hide the sausage or tickle the tuna. I have a weak stomach.
And Caden. Who the fuck knows where he is. I’ve searched since the night he dropped me off from the dance over a year ago. But that guy— he’s gone. The one that was gentle. Charming. Sexy. Sinful. He pressed a kiss to my cheek and hauled ass. Never to appear again. Whatever.
I flirt with Zander, crowd watch, laugh at his jokes, search for my friends, do a shot . . . and another. Have more alcohol, pray my friends come rescue me because this hot as fuck, wet dreams were created from this guy . . . has just invited me to dinner— via his room so he can change— and it’s sounding like a great idea to follow him. He may get the honor of popping my cherry after all. Especially if he demonstrates one more time how his tongue can tie said cherry stem in a knot . . . in three seconds flat. Now that— that’s a talent that shouldn’t go to waste.
“How about I go change and meet you here in half an hour?” I’m trying to use my senses, the ones that aren’t drowning in liquor.
His fingers caress my face. “What fun would that be?” His lips brush my ear, sending warning signs to my brain.
Abort.
Run.
Agree.
Drop your skirt.
Open your legs.
All these decisions and my brain cells have dwindled to very few that are firing on limited capacity. Don’t worry . . . the tequila makes my choice for me.
Neither of us have a choice but to change— and shower. The lunch I was served on the plane is now garnishing his shoes— and the floor. I’m fucking mortified. My cheeks flame and tears threaten as I murmur an apology before scuttling off. I’m digging in my back pocket, hoping I have the room key when warm hands grip my bicep.
“It’s okay, Avery.” The words make my skin tingle. Understanding, laced with want. “Come on, give me your key and I’ll help you to your room.”
I nod as his arms hold me close. Supporting me. Comforting me. Making me give up the search I’ve been on for a year. “Thanks.”
“No thanks necessary.” Silence blankets us as we take the elevator. As we open my room. As I take a shower and clean the ick from my body. Brushing my teeth, the noise of the television and his voice grab my attention. He’s ordering food and requests my favorite soup and bread.
Making my way to the room, I stare at him lounged in the bed. He seems to take up the entire space and manages to look cramped. He pats the spot next to him and my feet take me there. “I ordered you something to eat.”
“I heard.” I whisper as my head finds a perfect spot on his chest, listening to the steady beat that calms me.
“No more drinking on an empty stomach, Aves.” I silently agree, although it’s apparent my stomach wasn’t empty. I shiver in disgust. “I’ll amend that. Don’t drink if I’m not with you. That’s better.” He sounds rather smug with his declaration.
Bossy ass. But, he’s looking out for me. “Okay.” The glint in his eyes shows his enjoyment of me going along with his demand. His lips find my forehead and press. And linger. Our eyes meet. My dark to his light. His fingers brush a tendril of hair back and our breathing picks up speed.
“This isn’t a good idea.” I don’t concur. “Fuck it.” His lips brush against mine. He licks across the seam of my lips. I open, allowing his tongue refuge . . . to have it bring me pleasure. And fear. What am I doing? What are we doing?
Loud rapping breaks the spell and I sigh at the absence of his lips. “Be right back.” He promises— or warns. Whichever works for me. I track his movements with my eyes. Watching his biceps flex as he takes the tray of food from the bellman, turns and places it atop the table. “Come eat.” He demands of me simply as he spins back to sign the receipt and hands a tip to the man.
My body stands of its own accord, my feet shuffle to the chair like an obedient child. This can’t be good . . . a few kisses and he has me spellbound. I’ll do anything he requests, but if I’m reading the vibe he’s sending correctly— he won’t push me. “Thanks.” My smile comes without force, it’s genuine, because he makes me happy.
His eyes study me as he nods. I spoon some warm soup into my mouth and come close to choking as his hands brush my shoulders, massaging the tension from my body. “Relax, Aves.” I sigh, losing myself in his big hands kneading my shoulders, my neck, caressing my jaw every so often. I’m molten, pliable to whatever he wants me to become . . . but like always, he’s content for me to be myself. Avery. Covered in paint. Saving the world— one coat at a time.
“What are we doing?” My words sound quiet to my own ears and I’m not certain he heard me. I clear my throat, ready to repeat the question when he answers.
“The inevitable. What I’ve wanted for a year. What I’ve fought my entire life.”
My breath hitches, and stalls as his lips trail behind my ear, down to my collarbone. “Why now?”
His rumbling chuckle vibrates my skin. “Done fuckin’ around, Avery. I don’t know why now— I just know it is now.” Conversation is over as his mouth latches onto the side of my neck, fingers trail down my arms, over my torso, brushing my nipples that have puckered and scream for him to pay them due attention. “Done eating?”
“Uh . . . what?” My brain short-circuits. Fried from the heat he’s igniting through my body.
His arms lift me from the chair with ease. He places me on the bed and follows me down, covering every inch of my body. I’m small underneath him, and if it was anyone else, I’d feel insignificant. Instead, a floating, freeing sensation seizes me.
I’m treasured.
Protected.
Cherished.
Worshiped.
Only he could do that.
Our lips connect. Our tongues mingle, tasting, dancing. Words are loud in the silence, conveying a meaning without uttering a syllable. He shifts his body between my legs and I tense. Not from fear. It isn’t lack of w
anting.
It’s the unknown. The intense need that I don’t disappoint him. “Relax. Nothing else is happening tonight.”
So I slacken and enjoy the onslaught of feelings he’s invoking.
And if nothing else happens— ever— I’ll hold tonight in my heart. It’s burned there. He lit a match and marked me. My mind won’t have to recall this memory because it’s buried in my soul, coursing through my veins. The colors vivid, the feelings undeniable— it’s a canvas that is coveted and I can’t wait for my fingers to paint it.
He held true to his word. We didn’t go any further last night. I was frustrated and relieved. I awoke alone— no note. No promises of future meetings. Nothing. Lee Lee stumbled in the room smelling like a distillery, but happy. “Fuck, Aves. Mason is a God in bed, but such a dick.”
“Yet, you keep going back to ride his appendage.” I toss back at her. No sympathy here. We’re all waiting for their arrangement to blow up in all of our faces— because that’s what will happen. When their game comes to an end we will all suffer the carnage.
“It’s fine. Better than the alternative.” She sighs and I hate I’ve made her think of him. The name that shall not be spoken. Brody Collier. Mason and I are the only ones that know and my knowledge of the situation was accidental. Vodka had a hand in that story unfolding and Mason happened to be there the day things went south with Emberlee and Brody. He was her rock . . . now he’s her hard place. Pun intended.
I can’t deny Mason gives her something she needs— besides the third leg he’s so proud of. He’s a calming force to her reckless behavior. And if he can manage that . . . I can’t deny them bumping uglies. “Want to go shopping?” I don’t know why I asked her. She’d shop in a monsoon, without a raincoat or boat. That bitch would turn into an Olympic swimmer, medaling in gold, if any body of water separated her from the mall.
“Yeah. I told Mason and Caden we’d meet them for breakfast. I think they’ll hit the slopes and my body was worked over enough last night.” I giggle and a light bulb pops into my head.
Fighting Fate (Endgame #4) Page 1
