by Lucia Grace
Falling Deeper
By Lucia Grace
Copyright © 2015 Lucia Grace
Kindle Edition Published by: Lucia Grace
Cover Design by: ACE Designs and Author Servicing
Edited by: Megan Maksym at Wild Rose Editing
Formatted by: ACE Designs and Author Servicing
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form without written permission except for use of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
To those who think they can’t.
You can.
Table of Contents
Dedication
Table of Contents
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 Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Epilogue
Playlist
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Coming Soon
Part One
PROLOGUE
KAYSON
“Yeah, well fuck you too, Mom,” I yell as I slam the rusty screen door of our shitty town house and stomp over to my old pickup truck. It may be beat-up and rusted-out, but I bought it with my hard-earned money, so it’s all mine.
Opening the door, I toss my duffle bag of clothes and school shit onto the passenger seat and slide in behind the wheel. As I start my truck I pull my cell from my pocket and shoot off a quick text to my best friend, Damon.
My mom’s drunk and flipped her shit again. Didn’t believe me when I said I was working at the jobsite all day and that tomorrow’s the first day of senior year. Mind if I crash at your place again?
His response is almost immediate. Like he was expecting a text at 11:00 p.m. on a Sunday.
Yeah, man. You know you’re always welcome. I’ll leave the door unlocked. Just come on up.
I don’t even bother responding. I know the drill since I’ve been doing this for the past three years of high school. Looks like we’re off to the same start for year number four, too.
Shifting into reverse, I take a look at the run-down, subsidized housing complex we live in and shake my head. Paint is chipping and peeling. The shutters are hanging off windows that don’t close all the way or lock anymore. The rusty screen door hangs loosely off the doorframe.
My mom used to take pride in what we had, even though it wasn’t much. But now? She turned to the bottle when her last boyfriend left. It’s almost five years now. She claims he was the love of her life.
Like the rest of them were.
Besides losing her beauty and all self-respect, the alcohol seemed to take her mind, too. Making her paranoid and manic, conjuring up bullshit that only she believes. When I try to talk her down it only makes it worse—we argue even more or she lays her hands on me. So I try to stay out with friends, work as much as possible, or get the fuck out if she’s in a mood. Like tonight.
It’s been the two of us for as long as I can remember. The sperm donor was a junkie she met while working at some bar. He skipped town as soon as she told him she was pregnant. She loves to remind me of how it was my fault that the fucker left, even though she was the one who spread her legs for him and got herself knocked up. It wasn’t my choice to be brought into this world, and it wasn’t my fault that he was smart enough to bail on her ass. I do know that much.
Mom was never perfect. Our home life was always a struggle. We had little to no money for anything besides basic necessities. We were always arguing because she was always gone. Either working long shifts at the bar or out with friends spending any extra we had. Then there were all the different men pretending to be my new daddy. But we made it work. Now, though, it’s a daily struggle not to lose my shit on her and leave this fucking town for good.
One more year. Just one more year.
With that last thought I back out, shift into drive, and let the gravel fly.
This year cannot go by quickly enough.
CHAPTER ONE
-SEPTEMBER-
EMBER
“Have a good day, sweetie!” Momma sends me off, waving frantically from the driver’s seat with a huge smile on her face. She is way too cheerful in the mornings.
This morning especially.
“Yeah, Momma, thanks. You, too,” I reply as I shut the car door, trying to take calming breaths to squash my nerves.
I’m more nervous than she realizes. But I’m trying my best to keep positive for her. She’s been through enough because of my dad. It started with his arrest three years ago, for drug possession with intent to sell, and his subsequent trial the following year. When the truth finally came out, she had to deal with all the lies she had believed during the time she supported him. On top of that, he fought the divorce for the past two years. I’d say he’s put us through the wringer. And I know he’s my dad, but for the stuff he put Momma and me through, I say good riddance.
So seeing her bright smile this morning when she offered me a ride, and hearing her small laugh at my apparent anxiety over today, I couldn’t help but accept. It’s good to see Momma smile and hear the sound of her laughter after everything we’ve been through. It’s no doubt Cassandra Martinez is a beautiful woman, but the stress of the past three years, along with the move, has definitely added some age to her. Her smile is something that lights up her whole face, bringing back more of her youth and beauty from before. So even though it’s at my expense, I’ll take it as long as she starts to smile again.
With a weak smile of my own, one final wave, and her blowing a kiss through the open passenger window, I huff a deep breath and turn toward my new school.
Pleasant Beach High School.
You can do this. I give myself an internal pep talk as I walk toward the front doors of the high school.
It’s just a new school. With new people. In a new place.
Oh goodness, I can’t do this.
I take a few more deep breaths, noting my surroundings as I walk as slowly as possible, trying to prolong the inevitable. The two-story building is intimidating. Much larger than the one back home in Vermont.
To make matters worse, I catch a few people staring and whispering to each other. No
doubt judging everything about me, from my size, to my clothes, to my minimally made-up face.
I try to shrug it all off and ignore the unease that spreads through my body as more people glance my way. But having all this attention on me is really freaking me out.
I almost give up and turn around to leave when I see a group of girls standing by the front doors that I know I’m going to have to pass. The closer I get the louder their whiney voices and high-pitched giggles get.
I barely keep myself from rolling my eyes.
As I’m passing by, I see the girls are crowded around a few guys. One is a bit taller and broader than the rest, sitting quietly next to his animated friend. Dark tousled hair, flawless olive skin, and a killer smirk keep the gaggle of girls around him enraptured.
This time I do roll my eyes.
After I take a second to appreciate him, of course. I’d have to be blind not to.
He is gorgeous.
He doesn’t spare me a glance when I walk right by though. No surprise there. I’m not a bottled blonde with mile-long legs sticking out of a denim mini skirt and a white tank top stretching across a stuffed bra. He keeps listening to his friend and smirking as each girl vies for his attention.
I shake my head at how desperate they all seem, while inside a small part of me wishes he would slide that smirk my way.
I push through the double doors as that thought filters through just as quickly as it came, and stop short when I see so many people milling around. There are front offices on each side of the hallway, but that doesn’t stop these students from carrying on as if no one is around.
There is a couple making out by the first set of lockers to my right. Red heads with teased hair a mile high mix in with the bottled blondes that file out of a bathroom to my left. All of them popping their gum and gossiping about the latest beach party where Mindy got so drunk she flashed everyone before proceeding to vomit all over herself.
My nose scrunches in disgust.
I look both ways to find the secretary’s office as people filter around me. Some walking by without even a glance. Some giving snide and irritated looks for my being in the way.
My face heats with embarrassment, so I make a choice. Hiking my backpack higher on my shoulder, I cut through the foot traffic to reach the office at my right. Hoping either the secretary or guidance counselor will be in there.
Walking through the open doorway I notice a few students, standing around and talking with faculty and fellow students, before I scan the front desk to see an older woman with white hair finishing a phone call. Steeling myself and attempting to calm my nerves, I walk up to her.
“Excuse me.”
She looks up, her ice blue eyes scanning my features before she replies. “Hi, honey, can I help you?”
“Uh, yes, my name is Ember Martinez. I’m new here.”
“That explains it then. I knew I didn’t recognize you from last year. Welcome to Pleasant Beach High School, dear.” She smiles warmly at me, easing some of my nerves for the time being.
“Thank you,” I reply softly, as chatter in the office dies down.
“My name is Sylvia, I’m the school secretary. If you need anything please don’t hesitate to come on in and ask. Let me find your information and get your class schedule printed so we can send you on your way.” She smiles brightly now. Like I should be excited.
I swallow down my nerves as best as I can and muster a smile. She must see through my act because she husks out a chuckle, causing her full cheeks to bounce.
“It won’t be that bad, I promise. You just wait and see.” She adds on a wink.
I give her an “if you say so” look as she hands me the paperwork. Reading my class schedule as I turn away from Sylvia, I see that I have English for first period. The first bell rings, followed by a deep chuckle rumbling through the hallway. My head shoots up and my eyes collide with the same guy from outside. He’s shuffling through the doors as he shoves the guy in front of him, laughing at something he said.
“Have a good day, Ember.” Sylvia snickers from behind me.
Turning to look over my shoulder, I see a knowing smirk on her face, she must have caught my reaction to seeing that guy. I offer a small wave and step through the door to make my way to first period.
The map of the school that Sylvia included in my class schedule directs me down the east wing and almost to the last classroom down the hall. With each step I take, my nerves multiply and my anxiousness skyrockets.
My hands are clammy, my heart is pounding, and the butterflies in my tummy are fluttering with unease. I’ve never been good with change, and I hate attention, so knowing that I’m about to walk into a new classroom full of new classmates, with all of their eyes on me, has me wishing I could turn around and head right back out those front doors.
When I make it to the open doorway of my first class, I take one last deep breath and push down my nerves as best as I can and step through.
CHAPTER TWO
KAYSON
She walks into my third period study hall and it’s as if my heart stops beating and pounds from my chest all at once. I can’t take my eyes off her, even as Damon goes on about one of the many chicks he met over the summer.
Like I fucking care when the hottest chick I’ve ever seen just walked into the room. Is he fucking blind?
She’s stunning actually. More beautiful than any other girl in this high school. Who is she? She must be new because I would definitely remember a body like that roaming these halls last year.
I take a long, leisurely look when she steps further into the room and starts walking over to Mr. Perkins. Her long, dark hair hangs down her back in loose waves, hitting low on her waist and almost reaching her ass. A lush ass encased in dark denim that has me doing a double take and stifling a groan by biting my knuckle. An ass I’d love to take a juicy bite out of. Fuck. It is round and plump and fucking perfect. Each round globe is definitely more than a handful each.
She’s petite; I already know I’ll tower over her. Her body is banging—an hourglass figure with a trim waist that flares down to mouthwatering hips. And her tits? Don’t even get me started. A definite handful. No, scratch that, more than, definitely more than. And the thought of palming each one in my large hands has me clenching my fists so tight around my desk my knuckles begin to turn white.
I’m a tits man, so I’m in fucking heaven. But for her, with an ass like that, I’d convert. However, it seems I’ve hit the jackpot with this beauty.
Thank you, Jesus, for creating such perfection. Must have been a good day. Good looking out.
Her black eyelashes fan her cheeks as she reads off her class list. Probably confirming that she’s in the right room. The tight, lace-covered, bright pink tank top against her tan skin makes it seem like she’s glowing and makes her blush-tainted cheeks stand out even more.
I wonder what she looks like flushed and blushing everywhere else, I think on a groan. When I realize it was out loud I look around to make sure no one heard me.
She must have though because, all of a sudden, instead of her profile I’m staring head-on at the best rack I’ve ever seen. I scan back up to her face and my jaw goes slack. My pulse thrums through my veins. My adrenaline spikes. The need to claim, protect, and conquer rush through me. Her eyes. They are the key to her fucking soul. I swear. The deepest, richest brown I’ve ever seen. Like they’re limitless. Like I could get lost in them. I know I could, and I plan on it.
Picking my jaw up from my desk, I shake my head and see she’s still glancing my way. Turning on my charm I toss her my signature smirk that I know will flash my dimple, and watch in awe as her blush deepens. I have to shift in my chair to ease the ache of my hard-on tightening my jeans.
Fuck me, she is gorgeous.
My heavy gaze watches in hunger as she aimlessly walks over to the empty table at the front of the class. I watch closely as her round ass slowly lowers into her seat. Meanwhile, Damon has yet to shut up next to me. He
keeps going on and on about each chick and his deep throat ratings for each. It’s annoyingly interrupting all of the inappropriate thoughts raging through my head about this girl’s ass.
I shake my head and glare at him as he continues to praise and offer tips for improvement, like the fucking chicks are here for him to lecture, before swinging my gaze back to the front of the class and continuing to stare at that body I admired from moments ago.
EMBER
He didn’t notice me any of the three times I passed him in the hallway, chewing on my thumbnail. He didn’t even notice me when I almost crashed into him, after slamming my locker door in frustration over my failed internal pep talk to calm my nerves. He gave me a quick glance, a tip of his chin, then walked away to join a group of guys, along with the same blondes from this morning, while heading to their next class.
But why would he notice a girl like me? I may have developed over this past summer, looking more like a woman than an awkward teenager, but I’m still the same old me. Shy, timid, awkward. So I’m surprised to see him looking over at me as I walk into third period study hall with Mr. Perkins. I could expect a quick glance like the rest of the class. But no, his eyes settle on me and stay there, causing a blush to rise in my cheeks. I’m sure I am as red as a damn tomato. It doesn’t help that he is quite possibly the most attractive person to ever walk this earth.
