Don't Walk Away: A Second Chance Fake Fiance Romance

by Eva Luxe

  Don’t Walk Away

  A Second Chance Fake Fiancé Romance

  Copyright © 2018 by Eva Luxe and Juliana Conners.

  All Rights Reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction and any portrayal of any person living or dead is completely coincidental and not intentional. No part of this book may be reproduced without written permission from the author, other than brief excerpts for the purpose of reviews or promotion.

  For a limited time, this book comes with bonus books for your continued reading enjoyment, including other books in the standalone but connected

  South Beach Bad Boys series: Don’t Say A Word, Don’t Forget About Me, Don’t Stand So Close, Don’t Stop Believing and Don’t Come Around Here.

  Credits

  Cover Design by Coverlüv

  Published by Juliana Conners’ Sizzling Hot Reads

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Kyle

  Chapter 2

  Maya

  Chapter 3

  Kyle

  Chapter 4

  Maya

  Chapter 5

  Kyle

  Chapter 6

  Maya

  Chapter 7

  Kyle

  Chapter 8

  Maya

  Chapter 9

  Kyle

  Chapter 10

  Maya

  Chapter 11

  Kyle

  Chapter 12

  Maya

  Chapter 13

  Kyle

  Chapter 14

  Maya

  Chapter 15

  Kyle

  Chapter 16

  Maya

  Chapter 17

  Kyle

  Chapter 18

  Maya

  Chapter 19

  Kyle

  Epilogue

  Maya

  Don’t Say a Word: A Bad Boy Secret Baby Romance

  Don’t Forget About Me: A Second Chance Amnesia Romance

  Don’t Stand So Close: A Brother’s Best Friend Romance

  Don’t Stop Believing: Bonus Novella

  Don’t Come Around Here: A Bad Boy Next Door Romance

  SEAL's Virgin: A Bad Boy Military Romance

  Twice the Fun: A Bad Boy MFM Menage Romance

  Yes, Boss: A Bad Boy Office Romance

  Bound by the Billionaire

  Mountain Man’s Baby: A Billionaire And Virgin Romance

  Chapter 1

  Kyle

  The best place to be alone was somewhere with a lot of people. It was ironic but I liked being surrounded by people, even if I was by myself. It beat the silence that crowded me at home and I had to put on a face since I was out and about, so no one saw me scowling.

  The Corner was a quaint place, with rough wooden panels on the walls, exposed wooden pillars, and everything decorated in shades of brown. It wasn’t a classy place. They served craft beers and food, and I could sit right at the bar if I wanted to. If I’d had to get a table, I wouldn’t have frequented the place. Nothing screamed ‘loser’ any more than someone sitting alone at a table.

  I sipped on my third Jack and Coke. It was strong and it welcomed me like an old friend. The bartender eyed me to check that I didn’t need service. I was a regular. Regulars tended to get served immediately. Keeping the regulars happy ensured they remained regular.

  My phone rang and Loui’s name flashed on the Caller ID. I sighed and pressed the phone to my ear.

  “Stop working,” I said to him.

  “I need to finish this sheet,” he said. “Not all of us can afford to sit on our asses and drink all night.”

  “Who says I drink all night?”

  “I can hear the bar music, asshole,” Loui said.

  I rolled my eyes, “What do you need?”

  He explained his dilemma and I helped him out, giving away my tricks of the trade. The poor guy was new. I had worked hard to get where I was, but if someone hadn’t thrown me a bone a few times, I would still have been on one of the bottom rungs.

  “Thanks, Kyle. You’re a star,” Loui said, before hanging up.

  “A superstar,” I said bitterly.

  No kid woke up with stars in their eyes and said they wanted to be an accountant one day. I’d had a dream of being a pro football player since the moment I’d realized you could make a career out of sports. For years I had lived and breathed the game, sure I was going to enjoy the glory days with a football in my hands and the sound of cheering in my ears.

  Until I didn’t get chosen at college. Only one thing hurt more than being told I wasn’t good enough. Being told that my best friend was.

  I had taken Accounting as a fallback—my mom insisted—and thank God I had. I’d have been out on my ass now if I hadn’t. It had taken me some time to get my act together. Right after college, with a basic Accounting degree and so much bitterness over my botched up future, I had started drinking and getting into trouble. It was months before I realized I had to get my shit together if I wanted to stay out of jail or worse, rehab.

  So, I’d done every course and exam required to become a chartered accountant and I’d gotten a job so my twin sister and her new husband—my ex-best friend—didn’t have to look after me.

  It didn’t help the bitterness at all, but I was better off, financially speaking at least.

  I sipped my drink, thanking the powers that be for the existence of alcohol, when a noise behind me made me turn around. A couple of big guys walked through the doors and excitement rippled through everyone in the bar.

  Miami Dolphin players.

  Fuck.

  What the hell were they doing here? This was a rundown place in a shitty part of town. There were so many more places over on North Beach where I wouldn’t have to be reminded of them. Where I wouldn’t have to be reminded that my brother-in-law was one of them, and was living the life that should have belonged to me.

  Sure as shit, Liam Larson was with them, his blue eyes shining. Yeah, he was living the life. He had nothing to be sour about.

  I wanted to get out of there before they saw me. I didn’t want to face Liam, talk to him, pretend that everything was fine. I had done that for a while. When I’d realized my sister Kina was in love with Liam, I had made nice, for her sake. I had apologized for fucking up, for being bitter, and had pretended I was happy for them, just long enough that they stopped worrying about me and left me alone. I had put on a happy face for their wedding, too.

  But that was over now. If Liam thought I would forget that he was living my dream, he had another think coming. I didn’t blame him for it, and knew that it wasn’t his fault, but that didn’t mean that jealousy didn’t crawl under my skin, reminding me how great I did not have it.

  “Kyle!” Liam called out, and I groaned inwardly. He’d seen me. Shit. I couldn’t run away now.

  “Liam,” I said evenly.

  He came up to me, grinning. There had been a time when we’d been so close he’d been like a brother to me. Those days were far behind us.

  “How are you doing, man? I never see you around anymore.”

  I forced a smile. I didn’t tell him it was because I didn’t want to be around anymore.

  “Guess I’ve been busy,” I said.

  “It happens,” Liam said, with a shrug. “Your sister will be so happy to hear I saw you tonight. She’s doing well, too.”

  “That’s great,” I said, and threw back the last of my drink, slamming the glass down on t
he counter. I had to get the hell out of here. I turned toward the door, slipping through the pop-up crowd that circled the Dolphins where they stood at the bar. Thank God for star-struck fans.

  I made it all the way to the curb outside before Liam caught up with me.

  “Wait, buddy,” Liam said. God, I was so not his buddy. “Don’t leave, not yet.”

  I turned toward Liam, not even trying to look happy anymore.

  He soldiered on, ignoring the annoyance on my face. “Do you want to come to my practice on Monday? We’re gearing up for the season and it’s getting rough.”

  I shook my head. “Honestly? I don’t. Thanks.”

  Liam’s face fell. I’d hurt him. If I cared, I would have felt bad. But I was done watching this man get everything he’d ever wanted, from the glittering career to the woman he loved, all the while, I had ended up alone. And that had been despite an assault charge with a different team. The world should have shunned him but instead, they had fallen in love with him all over again when he’d shown them those baby blue eyes. We used to be friends once but that had been a long time ago.

  “Oh, okay,” Liam said, as he tried to look upbeat, like it didn’t bother him. I knew exactly how that felt.

  I flagged a cab that happened by, as if sent by God himself. It stopped beside me, empty. Small miracles. I opened the door and slammed it behind me without saying goodbye to Liam. When the cab pulled off I didn’t look back to see my brother-in-law standing on the curb. I didn’t want to feel sorry for how I was behaving.

  Liam had been as much a part of my life as Kina was. He had been like family, long before he actually was. We had dreamed of football together. At school we had been on the same team, a dangerous duo that steamrolled all of our opponents. We both made it to college on a football scholarship and vowed we would make the Dolphins team together.

  When they had approached Liam and not me, I’d expected him to turn it down. Together, or not at all, right?

  But he hadn’t done that. He’d come to me afterward, telling me he couldn’t turn it down, and that I would have done the same thing. He’d told me he was sorry. It pissed me off because he was right, I would have done the same thing. But it pissed me off even more that he rose to glory without me and I was stuck with a broken dream. I had started drinking alcohol, desperately trying to fill the cracks. For years I had blamed him.

  All that was behind me, now. Everything but the jealousy. That, I couldn’t shake.

  When I walked into my apartment, flicking on the lights, I was irritated. I had only barely begun to feel tipsy before I’d had to leave. Now, it was still early and I was going to be completely sober in less than half an hour. Here in my apartment, the silence had a rhythm of its own, a reminder that I had amounted to nothing.

  I didn’t have anyone special in my life, either, no one I could call and sing my woes to. I’d had someone special, once. She had been everything to me. I had lost her shortly before losing everything else, and no one had come close to replacing her ever since.

  So, it would be me, myself, and I tonight.

  Fucking fantastic.

  The blinking light on my answering machine caught my eye, telling me someone had been looking for me. Probably Loui, before he’d tried my cell. I pushed the recall button and Kina’s voice filled my apartment.

  “Hi, Kyle,” she said. “I haven’t heard from you in a while. I hope you’re doing okay, your silence really worries me.” Right. Because a while ago, my silence had meant I was locked up or passed out drunk underneath a park bench. “Call me when you get a chance, okay? I was hoping—” I cut off the message before it ended. I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t care what she was hoping. She was a football wife, now. She was happy and in love. She didn’t need me.

  And she was only a reminder of everything I’d lost, married to the man that had gotten it all instead. I didn’t need her, either.

  I erased the message. She knew I didn’t get arrested anymore, my days of sitting in the drunk tank at the police station were over. When she said she was worried about me it was because I was still alone at twenty-seven. Well, no man died because he didn’t have a woman.

  Walking to my bedroom, I collapsed on the bed. I stopped fighting away the darkness and let the depressed feeling swallow me. I wished I had someone I could turn to about this, someone I could share my life with. Someone I could call and vent to when I was as pissed off as I’d been in the cab.

  The only woman I’d ever been able to do that with was Maya, a girl I had dated for two years in college, back when my future had still been laid out before me. But I had lost her. It was a damn shame, too. If I’d ever loved anyone, it had been her.

  But shit happened, life moved on and I was sure, so had she. It hurt too much to think about still another thing I had lost, so I switched off the thoughts and closed my eyes, focusing on the black behind my eyelids, the darkness in the room, the nothingness inside of me.

  Until I drifted off.

  Chapter 2

  Maya

  Exercise created endorphins and I was addicted to it. I had been active my whole life. There was nothing better than muscle pain after training hard, the feeling of adrenaline in my veins and feeling of being alive.

  I had been a cheerleader in school and in college. I had auditioned to be a part of the Miami Dolphin Cheerleading Squad and by some miracle, they had accepted me. I’d started training with them last week.

  “How are you fitting in?” Dina asked me when we took a water break.

  “Oh, I think I’m getting the hang of it,” I said. Dina was the coach who had overseen the auditions. She had insisted they take me.

  “You look like you’re managing,” she smiled.

  I nodded, “The training is a little more intense than I’m used to these days, but I love a challenge.”

  “That’s the spirit,” Dina said, and joined the other coach. I sipped my water and watched some of the other cheerleaders chatting in groups. They weren’t even breaking a sweat while I sat on the bench, dripping and breathing hard. I would get there, I promised myself.

  I knew I would.

  The squad was amazing. I wasn’t exactly a part of it yet, I felt like a bit of an outsider, but that would change. In time, we would be a team the way I had been at school and at college.

  In college, I had studied Sports Science. I had wanted a career in sports even after I was too old to be a cheerleader, although that wouldn’t be for quite a few years. I’d worked hard and played hard and loved hard. I had lived the dream in college and I was doing the same, now.

  “Alright, ladies, time’s up,” Dina called and we walked onto the field again. My legs felt like jelly and I was still breathing hard; the short water break hadn’t exactly been enough to recover.

  “Let’s look at lifts,” Dina said. I was grateful. I was one of the cheerleaders being lifted, not doing the lifting. Thank God. My arms felt like spaghetti and I might have dropped someone.

  When training was over, I fished my phone out of my bag and checked it. Sara had been looking for me even though she knew what time my practice ended.

  “What’s up?” I asked when I returned her call.

  “We’re tackling the box room,” she said.

  I groaned, “I can’t unpack, today. I’m dying after training.”

  “Muscle up, honey,” Sara said. “See it as a post-workout bonus.”

  I laughed.

  “I’ll throw in a bottle of wine.”

  “Oh, you know just how to win me over,” I said, laughing and ending the call.

  Sara and I had been friends since high school. She was like a sister to me. Even though we were practically joined at the hip, we were polar opposites in so many ways.

  I had long dark hair. She had a blonde pixie cut. My eyes were a deep chocolate brown, hers were a sparkling green. I had a natural tan where Sara was white as a ghost. We came from very different backgrounds. I had grown up with the knowledge that I had to work
my ass off for anything I wanted in life, where Sara was a trust-fund-baby who had everything fall in her lap. That didn’t stop us. Sara was a snob, but I was outspoken, and we were at each other as much as we loved each other.

  It worked for us.

  We had moved to a beach condo a few weeks ago. Sara had bought it, a cash deal, of course, and I was rooming with her because where else would I go? She’d asked me to move in with her with that very line. We had been roommates since college, so of course, I agreed.

  We had only unpacked the most important boxes since the move, and still had a whole room full of unopened boxes that we fondly referred to as the box room. Well, today that was going to change, apparently.

  “I’m back,” I said, when I got home. “I need to shower, I’m drenched.”

  “You smell like it, too,” Sara said, coming into the room. She wore faded designer jeans and a crop top that showed off her flat stomach. She pinched her nose. I stuck out my tongue at her and we laughed.

  When I was done showering I joined Sara in the box room.

  “I think we need to do the ornaments, first,” Sara said, standing with her hands on her hips.

  “I vote for unpacking the wine glasses first,” I said. Sara agreed and opened the box with the wine glasses and whiskey tumblers, things we hadn’t needed until now. We poured two glasses of wine, carried two boxes to the living room and started working.

  “You’re in a sad career when it comes to male talent,” Sara said, unpacking photo frames. “Being surrounded by women all day isn’t good for your psyche. Trust me, I know.”

  Sara worked at a law firm that represented battered women, so they were all women in the office.

  “It’s not like I’m dying to meet a man,” I said. “I have my career to focus on.”

  “Only you would make a career of jumping around and shaking your pompoms as hard as you shake your ass,” Sara said.

  I laughed, “Only you would make a career out of arguing.”

  “Touché,” she said, clinking her glass against mine. “Seriously Maya, you need a man,” she added.