Saving Mel

by Rye Hart

  “Oliver, you shouldn't have,” I said. “I— I can't accept this. This is too much.”

  “It wasn't just me,” Oliver said with an awkward smile. “It was them.”

  “Who?”

  I looked around sharply, on the verge of panic, thinking that someone else was in the room with us. But Oliver walked around the solid dark oak desk and pointed to the open laptop.

  My fanpage was open and, even now, the comments were pouring in. Love and condolences and well-wishes from people I didn't even know – most of whom I'd never met and probably never would. What amazed me the most was that many of the well-wishers were coming in from places well outside of Chicago. Well out of Illinois entirely.

  I never knew I had such a large, passionate, and dedicated base of fans in states around the country, and it made my heart swell with gratitude. I looked down at the screen, reading some of the comments, my eyes filling with tears as I read them out.

  Madison, it's not much, but keep fighting the good fight. Never give up. Love Patsy and Mike from St. Louis, Missouri.

  Here's a little something from your biggest fan. Smooches! Ariel from Southside Chi-town.

  Sorry to hear about everything. Hope this helps. Signed, Todd from Oakland Park.

  It just went on and on and on. Hundreds of them. Thousands of them. I couldn't even begin to read them all. I had no idea how I was even going to begin thanking everybody who'd had a hand in making this happen – getting me back on the air, doing what I do.

  “Seems you have a lot of fans,” Oliver said. “They all wanted to help out, get you set back up in your new place.”

  My new place. So, this was my place, huh? I didn't think my heart could swell any more, but hearing him speak those words proved me wrong. It swelled so much, it had to be the size of the Goodyear blimp.

  I turned and kissed Oliver, pressing myself against him and nearly knocking the much larger man to the ground by sheer force.

  “You are the best thing that ever happened to me,” I said, tears flowing down my cheeks.

  Ten years ago, I had a chance with him and blew it. I'd thrown it away because of my own selfishness and stupidity. Back then, I hadn't been ready for this level of commitment. This level of love and devotion.

  Now I was.

  There was no way in hell I'd ever mess things up with him again. I'd never take him for granted and would always make him feel as appreciated as he made me feel.

  Oliver and I were good together. My sexy fireman. The man who'd saved my life. Though, I wanted to believe that in our own ways, we'd saved each other.

  The End

  RYE HART SNEAK PEEKS

  THE BETTER BROTHER

  PROLOGUE

  I turned to face him, and my eyes dropped to his lips. He was just inches away from me now, and my entire body was crying out for him.

  Our kiss was hot and fast. The second our lips touched, his body reacted. He shoved me roughly against the elevator wall, holding me in place with strong hands. I’d been dreaming of this moment since he first picked me up that night. Seeing him in a tuxedo was almost too much for me to handle. I knew what was beneath those clothes, and I was desperate to get my hands on him.

  “God,” I whispered as his lips found my neck. “I’ve wanted this all night.”

  “You have no idea,” he growled, his lips still pressed against my skin.

  His teeth bit down lightly, and I moaned. His hands roamed over my body, sliding over my hips and reaching around to grip my ass. Every inch of me that he touched lit on fire.

  “Come here,” I demanded, pulling his face back to mine.

  I kissed him so hard we were soon out of breath. My tongue slid into his mouth desperately. I could taste the martinis he drank that night, and it only made my head spin faster. Alcohol coursed through my veins, propelling me forward. I was reckless. I was horny. The elevator couldn’t rise fast enough.

  His hand reached down for my thigh. He tightened his fist around the light material of my dress and pulled it upward. His finger caressed my bare thigh, moving higher with each stroke.

  I moaned and let my head fall back. Panting, I wiggled beneath his touch. He slid his fingers even higher, soon realizing that I wasn’t wearing any panties.

  When he touched my bare pussy, he groaned and buried his face in my neck. His fingers played with me, lapping up my wetness and then sliding upward to tease my clit. I moaned loudly and pushed my hips forward.

  “You’re the devil,” he said roughly.

  He pressed down harder on my clit and rubbed me roughly. The elevator door chimed behind us, and we jumped apart. My pussy was throbbing, aching for his touch, but neither of us wanted to get caught. We stood a few feet away from each other while the doors slid open.

  There were a few people in the hallway, so he dipped down to grab my wrap off the floor, and we hurried toward our room. Neither of us said a word until were safely tucked away behind the door.

  The second we were inside, he grabbed me and tossed me roughly on the bed. He crawled up below me, taking my legs in his hands as he moved. His lips traced light patterns over my calves as he moved upward, shoving my dress aside as he did.

  Soon, I was completely exposed to him. He gripped my thighs and buried his face between my legs, his tongue already lashing out at my waiting clit.

  “Fuck!” I cried out. For the first time in my life, I didn’t care about being overheard. I cried out his name repeatedly as his tongue flicked back and forth over me. Wet desire rushed between my legs, dripping onto the bed while he pushed me further toward the brink.

  He reached around to grip my ass, holding me tightly while his tongue took me harder. My legs shook, and just like that, I came so hard that my back arched. My mouth opened but no sound came out. The cry of pleasure got caught in my throat as my whole body shook with ecstasy.

  He stood up and tore his tux from his body. I wiggled upward just enough so that I pressed against the pillows. My eyes trailed down his body, growing wider when his rock-hard cock sprang free.

  “You’re so fucking sexy,” he told me as he climbed onto the bed, now fully naked.

  “Prove it,” I teased.

  CHAPTER 1

  Julie

  Either I’ll end up in a mental institution, or this will be the best damn decision of my life.

  My new place was small but charming. The walls of the living room were painted a shade of green that lightened both the space and my mood. I leaned back in my desk chair and stared at the wall in front of me. Dallas was good to me, but there were too many bad memories now.

  I needed a change. This place was just forty-five minutes outside of the city. Quaint. Quiet. Peaceful. And, away from pain – at least that’s what I wanted so desperately to believe.

  Ennis, Texas, was the last place I ever envisioned myself settling down. I thought I’d spend my entire life in one big city or another, chasing my dream of being a journalist. Now, freelancing was all I needed. Living a quiet life seemed perfect and relaxing. After the last few weeks of hell, I longed for quality alone time.

  Just as the thought crossed my mind, there was a loud knock on my front door. I frowned and got slowly to my feet. The only person who knew where I lived was my best friend Andrea, but I couldn’t imagine she would drive all the way down here.

  “Hey!” Andrea said when I opened the door.

  I laughed and shook my head. Standing aside, I let Andrea pass by me. She quickly made herself at home, kicking off her shoes and collapsing in a heap on my couch.

  “I know it’s only like an hour,” she said. “But god, I really hate that fucking drive.”

  “What are you doing here?” I sat down in my chair and spun around to face her.

  “Ouch.” Andrea placed her hand over her heart and feigned a hurt expression. “Where’s the love, Jules?”

  I rolled my eyes. “You know what I mean.”

  “I just wanted to check on you.” Andrea shrugged. “I have the day off,
so I thought I’d drive down. Are you settled in?”

  I nodded. “Getting there. It’s going to take some time to unpack everything, but I love this house. It’s perfect.”

  “I thought it would be,” Andrea said with a satisfied grin.

  Andrea helped me find my new house about two seconds after I mentioned the move. She, unlike most of the other people in my life, was totally supportive of my desire to get out of Dallas.

  “My parents came down yesterday,” I said. “They don’t feel the same way.”

  “Like that’s a surprise,” Andrea said. “Frank and Janice wouldn’t know true style if it bit them in the ass.”

  I laughed. “God, that’s so true. Do you remember that purple leather recliner they bought when we were in high school?”

  “Oh my god!” Andrea groaned. “I forgot about that!”

  “I don’t know how you could,” I said. “It still haunts my nightmares.”

  “Well, you had to live with the damn thing in your living room,” Andrea said.

  We both laughed and continued our light-hearted abuse of my parents. They meant well, but they never truly understood me.

  “So,” Andrea said, her tone suddenly shifting. “Have you heard from him?”

  I froze. My heart felt like it stopped beating for a full minute. I knew Andrea would ask about him. Still, it didn’t stop me from feeling breathless and blindsided. My ex was the last person I wanted to talk about.

  “No,” I said. “I’m not sure he even knows I left Dallas.”

  “Of course, he knows,” Andrea said. She rolled her eyes. “It’s all over Facebook.”

  “It is?”

  “Well, I posted about it,” Andrea said with a shrug.

  “That doesn’t mean he’s seen it,” I said. “Besides, why would he care? He dumped me.”

  “Trust me, I know.” Andrea sighed and sat up. “How are you doing?”

  Andrea’s green eyes found mine. She didn’t look away. She held my gaze until, finally, I felt my entire body cave and my resolve melt away into nothingness. As much as I didn’t want to talk about him, Andrea knew I needed to.

  “I miss him,” I said honestly, “which is ridiculous. I know that. But I can’t help it. I still really miss him.”

  “You were together for two years,” Andrea said. “It would be weird if you didn’t miss him.”

  “But, he doesn’t deserve it,” I said firmly. “He totally screwed me over. I stayed with him while he finished med school. Despite the long hours he kept and the stupid fights he would pick every time he got stressed out about some test, I stayed. I put up with all of it. Then, he starts his residency and just bails? Who does something like that?”

  “An asshole,” Andrea said bluntly. “A pathetic little asshole.”

  “Exactly,” I said. “Then, why the hell do I even still care?”

  “Because you’re a good person,” Andrea said. “You have a heart. A big one.”

  “I wish I didn’t,” I said.

  Andrea snorted and moved to the edge of the couch. She reached out her hand for me to take. With a sigh, I slid out of my chair and moved to sit beside her. She held my hand and once again fixed me with a stare that was almost too understanding.

  “Do you want me to kill him?” she asked, her tone serious.

  I laughed and threw her hand away from me.

  “I’m serious!” she said. “I’ll do it. I have the shovel in my trunk already.”

  “You’re insane.” I rolled my eyes.

  “That may be true,” she said. “But I’m here. Whatever you need.”

  “I’m glad you came,” I said.

  “You needed me.”

  Her response was simple, but it spoke to the core of who Andrea was. She and I had been through everything together. From Kindergarten to college graduation. From weddings to funerals. It wasn’t a surprise that she knew what I needed better than I did.

  “I’m glad I moved,” I said. “This place is going to be good for me. I went into town today, and it’s perfect. There’s this little coffee shop in the square that I could spend all day in. I’m going to get so much writing done here.”

  “That’s amazing,” Andrea said. “Now that Dr. Assface isn’t holding you back anymore, you can finally get some real work done.”

  I frowned. “Holding me back?”

  I was angry and hurt by my break up, but I never thought of Joshua as someone who held me back.

  “Oh, come on,” Andrea said. “You know he did. In the two years, you were with him, you barely wrote anything, Julie.”

  “My career has been successful,” I said defensively. “I’ve had at least one article published every month since college. That’s pretty damn good.”

  Andrea held up her hands. “Listen,” she said. “I’m not questioning your success, okay? But I’m not talking about your articles. As a journalist, you’re killing it. You always have.”

  “Then, what?”

  “Your book!” Andrea said with frustration. “The book you’ve been writing since high school. The book you’ve been stressing about and dwelling on for ten years. Remember that book?”

  “Oh.” I blinked. “Right.”

  “See?” Andrea said. “He was holding you back.”

  “I don’t know if we can blame Joshua for that,” I said. “I let the book slide. That wasn’t his fault.”

  “Do you remember what he told you after he read the first chapter?” Andrea asked.

  I frowned again. I hadn’t thought about my book in so long. Honestly, I couldn’t remember the last time I even opened the file on my computer. But when Andrea asked that question, everything came flooding back.

  Joshua and I were in his apartment. I’d just given him the first chapter to read. I sat on his couch, waiting for him to finish it. I was terrified to hear what he thought, but I was also excited to share something so personal with him.

  When he was finally finished reading it, he turned to me with a kind smile.

  “It’s juvenile,” I said with a shake of my head. Andrea’s face came back into focus. “He told me it was juvenile. The immature ramblings of a confused, scared little girl who hadn’t yet figured out what to do with her life.”

  “Exactly.” Andrea nodded. “That was the first time I knew he was wrong for you.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything then?” I asked.

  “Would you have listened?” Andrea asked.

  “Probably not.” I laughed and shook my head. “God, I was an idiot.”

  “No,” Andrea said. “You were in love. You wanted to believe he was a good man, that you weren’t wasting your time. You wanted to believe in him. That doesn’t make you an idiot.”

  I nodded and closed my eyes. Andrea wrapped her arm around my shoulders while the reality of my situation sunk in.

  This house was my new home. I left Dallas. I moved to Ennis. I was finally, after two years, breaking free from the hold Joshua had on me.

  A surge of freedom crept up inside me. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut for a second before opening them again. Andrea was right. Joshua spent two years holding me back from being the person I wanted to be. When he dumped me, he was just setting me free. And now, I could do anything with that freedom.

  CHAPTER 2

  Michael

  He may be a dick, but he’s my brother.

  “So,” Josh said. He took a long swig of his beer and then turned to face me. “What kind of trouble are you getting yourself into in Dallas?”

  I shrugged. “I told you. I just needed to get away from the office. Get into the city for a couple of days.”

  “Work stressing you out?” Josh asked.

  “No.” I shook my head. “Not any more than usual. Besides, can’t I just want to see my big brother?”

  Josh snorted and took another drink. He knew I was full of shit. In the past few years, we’d gotten closer, but we still weren’t best friends. We were brothers, but we didn’t grow up together. I was
adopted as a baby and, while Josh always knew about me, we didn’t meet until we were both adults.

  It wasn’t an easy adjustment to make. Finding out I had an older brother when I was in my mid-twenties was a shock. I knew I was adopted from a really young age, but other than the fact I had a different set of biological parents, I didn’t know much else.

  Josh was in his residency at a medical school in Dallas, while I lived just an hour away in Ennis, Texas.

  I was initially nervous about meeting my long lost brother. Still, it was nice. After a few awkward meetings, Josh and I decided to just let things progress naturally. We saw each other periodically when we both had time. We never forced a connection or friendship. It became effortless, and it worked for us both.

  “How’s the residency?” I asked.

  Josh sighed and shook his head. He set his glass down on the bar dramatically before launching into an all-too-serious story about his latest life-saving adventure.

  “I was poised on top of the gurney, holding the guy’s intestines inside his stomach, when he had a fucking heart attack. It was like he wanted to die.”

  “Maybe he did,” I said with a chuckle.

  “It’s not funny, Michael,” Josh snapped. “This job is intense. People die all the time, and sometimes it’s my fault. It’s hell. Every day.”

  “Then, why do you do it?” I asked.

  “Because it’s my calling,” Josh said. “You can understand that, can’t you?”

  “Of course.”