by Priya Grey
Table of Contents
Title
Coming Soon…
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
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Healing Melody Excerpt
Kade
Kade
Melody
Melody
Love's Composure Excerpt
Emily
Sebastian
Other Books
About the Authors
Copyright
Love’s Illusion
By Ozlo & Priya Grey
Copyright © 2016 by Ozlo & Priya Grey. All Rights Reserved.
Edition: November 2, 2016
Coming Soon…
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Chapter 1
It’s the fourth quarter. Thirty seconds remain on the clock. The score is 32 - 28. Nash’s team needs him to perform another miracle. They’re stuck on their own forty-yard line, and it’s third down. Nash has already thrown four touchdown passes. Now, his team needs him to throw one more for the comeback win.
He’s been training for moments like this since he was five years old.
“When you’ve got your back against a wall, keep a cool head and an eye on all your receivers. Don’t rush the pass,” his dad always told him.
Nash takes a deep breath and settles into his stance. The cheering home crowd urges him on. But Nash doesn’t hear any of the noise from the packed stadium. It’s like he’s been pulled into a vacuum. All he hears is his own breathing and the beating of his heart.
As he scans the defense, he decides to change the coach’s play. If they lose, Nash will take the blame. But like his father is always telling him: Without any risk, there’s no reward.
“Red 24! Red 24!” he shouts to his players. He gets ready for the football snap. “Ready! Hut! Hut! Hike!”
Everything happens in slow motion. The football hits his fingertips. Players collide. Nash steps back quickly, trying to get some space and much needed time to make the right throw.
He looks left. Clarence, #24, can’t break his coverage.
He quickly looks right, and sees Tommy, #86, breaking away from his corner. There’s just enough space to avoid an interception. Nash is about to make the fifteen yard throw, when he catches one of the biggest linebackers he’s ever seen charging straight at him.
As he scrambles, Nash feels the linebacker tug at his jersey, trying to drag him down. Luckily, he escapes. He scurries right, then looks downfield to see if Tommy, #86, is still open. He is.
Nash slings the football at him – and prays with stifled breath – as the perfect spiral cuts through the air. Tommy stretches out his arms. Each second feels like an eternity as the football swirls toward the receiver. Then, suddenly, Nash feels a ton of bricks hit him from behind. He’s tackled to the ground.
His body briefly goes numb. The linebacker rolls off him. Nash regains his senses and looks up.
Thankfully, Tommy caught the ball. He makes a clear dash toward the end zone.
Touchdown!
Nash’s face breaks into a smile. They’ve won the game, and he just guaranteed himself a job in the NFL.
After the home win, coach allowed the guys to blow off some steam. He extended their curfew to midnight – but not a second later. Anyone not in their dorm room by midnight will have to do fifteen bear crawls next practice.
Tommy – the receiver who scored the winning touchdown – told Nash, and some others, about a house party on the other side of town. Nash usually likes to lay low during football season. But after such an amazing game, he believes he’s earned the right to celebrate.
“Dude, you are totally going first in the draft!” shouts Tommy over the hip-hop music playing in the background.
The house is packed with people. Nash notices a group of girls checking him out from across the room. He feels like a king. He’s the star quarterback of a winning college football team. Could anything be better?
“We’ll see,” Nash says as he nurses his beer.
“What do you mean, we’ll see?!” shouts Tommy. “You’re up for the Heisman this year! And after a game like today, shit man, your future is golden.”
Nash tries to stay humble. But he can’t suppress his smile. Everything is falling into place, just as he and his father – the great Hall of Fame quarterback Chuck Davis – envisioned.
“Now, it’s time for some mother-fuckin’ shots!” demands Tommy. “First one is for golden boy!”
The room erupts into a cheer.
Nash doesn’t like being called “golden boy”, but he doesn’t say anything. He takes the shot of whiskey from Tommy and downs it. The rest of the guys follow his lead.
Two hours later – after a few more shots – they are all thoroughly drunk. Then Nash notices the time.
“Fuck, we got to go,” Nash tells his fellow teammates. “It’s almost midnight. You know how coach is.”
“Chill, dude,” replies Tommy. “I got my car. We’ll be back in time.”
As they make their way out of the party, Nash glances at Tommy. Is he sober enough to drive? Nash sure isn’t.
“Maybe we should walk,” cautions Nash.
“Then we’re definitely going to be late,” complains Tommy as he removes his keys from his jean pocket. Walking toward his car, he states, “And I ain’t doing no fifteen mother-fuckin’ bear crawls because we’re ten minutes late. I’m fine, dude. I only did like three shots and had two beers.”
“You sure?” asks Nash, eyeing Tommy once again.
“Dude, trust me,” says Tommy with a wide grin. “Now get in.”
Tommy unlocks his car. Nash walks toward the passenger side. For a brief moment, he hesitates, before opening the door.
“Dude, what are you waiting for? Get in!” barks Tommy from the driver’s seat.
Nash opens the passenger door.
Chapter 2
Three years later…
It’s 10 pm and Nash Davis is out for a run. His 6 foot 3 inch frame rushes through the Los Angeles night with a determination that appears almost superhuman. Bare chested, his muscles ripple with each quick and hard step forward. As his sneakers pound the pavement, sweat glistens off his chiseled body. It’s unseasonably warm in Los Angeles this January evening. But Nash doesn’t even notice. With his cr
ystal-blue eyes focused straight ahead, and his broad chest expanding with each breath, the only thing moving faster than Nash’s body at this moment is his mind.
I can’t fuck this up. Tomorrow’s my last shot. If I fuck it up, my life is over.
Nash realizes he should be in bed, resting before his tryout with the Los Angeles Rams. But he’s too tense. Usually, a night run provides a release from the nervous tension in his body. But after forty-five minutes of running, he still feels the stress. And his mind is still chattering up a storm.
I want to make Los Angeles my home. I want to fulfill the dreams everyone has for me. If only I hadn’t gotten into that car three years ago… I still remember that brief moment – when I hesitated – right before opening the door to Tommy’s car. Why didn’t I listen to my gut? Maybe because I was too drunk to think straight.
Nash shakes his head, trying to knock the thoughts out of his mind. Regret over what happened three years ago won’t do him any good now. He needs to stay focused on the task at hand: getting a quarterback position on the Los Angeles Rams roster.
The only person who probably wants this more than Nash, is his father, Chuck. He’s the only reason Nash got the tryout with the Rams in the first place. His father, a Hall of Fame quarterback who led the 49ers to three Super Bowls, called in some favors.
Nash hates the fact that he needs his father’s help. Growing up, he always dreamed of surpassing his dad’s legacy on the football field. And things looked like they were headed that way. In college, as quarterback, Nash was up for the Heisman Trophy and was set to be the first pick in the draft. His dad – over thirty years ago – went 49th.
Then the accident changed everything. All those life plans went out the window just like his body did in that car crash. Nash watched the NFL draft from a hospital bed. And sadly, his name was never mentioned. It was a major blow to the family legacy. And it appeared Nash’s dream of a career in the NFL would be just that – a dream.
That was three years ago. Nash has been bouncing around the country ever since, trying to fight his way into the league. He’s been trying to prove to himself – and everyone else – that he still has what it takes to become a professional football player.
Growing up, Nash always wanted to be a legend, to surpass his dad’s legacy. Now, he’s struggling just to be relevant.
A car blasts its horn as Nash dashes across an intersection – not paying attention, lost in thought.
If I fuck it up tomorrow, my life is over. I’ll be a has been at twenty-three. Los Angeles is my final stop. I have to turn my life around here, in the city of lost angels. I won’t let myself get beat. I won’t drown in this mother-fuckin’ sunshine. I refuse to be one of those guys whose best years were in college.
Then regret creeps into his mind again.
If only I hadn’t gotten into that car. My life would be so different today.
Nash rattles his head, angry with himself. Why did he let that thought back in?
Don’t sabotage yourself, dude. Stop living in the past. Look forward. This is your chance to reinvent yourself. You need to become Nash 2.0. You need to focus.
Nash crosses another street and begins the long ascent up a hill. The homes of the famous and wealthy surround him. His breaths grow more labored. Nash feels a burning sensation run up his legs. He loves it. He’s always enjoyed the sensation of pushing his body to the limit, although he realizes it’s probably not the smartest thing to do the night before his tryout with the Rams. But Nash needed to do something to exorcise the demons inside him. Otherwise, he would just be lying in bed, wide awake and worrying.
Nash finally comes to the top of the hill. He bends over to catch his breath. As he straightens himself, he observes the bright lights of the city below him, blinking like a sea of neon. Up here, on this hill, he feels invincible. But he knows it’s an illusion, like so many things in this city.
Nash continues studying the flashing lights below him. He begins to ponder. I really want Los Angeles to be my home. The place where I put down some roots and build a legacy. But if things don’t work out tomorrow, I don’t know what I’m going to do. I can barely afford the rent where I’m staying, and I refuse to ask my dad for anymore help. If things don’t go well tomorrow, I guess I’ll have to move on. But toward what? I’ve been groomed to play in the NFL since I was five years old. If I fuck it up tomorrow, I have to move onto plan B. But I don’t have a plan B!
One thing I know for sure is this: I’m not going back to Texas. I can’t handle seeing the disappointed looks on everyone’s face, especially from my family. I was supposed to carry the Davis legacy forward. Going back home would just reinforce that I’m a loser, a could-have-been, another footnote in the annals of sports history – Nash Davis, a kid with a lot of promise who ruined his life by getting into that car his senior year in college. Damn it, I have to stop thinking about that. It happened over three years ago.
Nash has had enough of the picturesque view before him. He starts running again. In twenty minutes, he approaches a house located in the Hollywood hills. It’s a modern window-and-steel framed house that overlooks the city. Since arriving in Los Angeles two months ago, he’s been renting a room in the home.
Nash uses his key to unlock the gate and walks toward the front door. He opens the door and quietly steps inside. His roommates appear to be in their respective bedrooms.
As Nash grabs a glass of water in the kitchen, he notices a note on the counter. It’s from Selena, the girl he’s renting the room from.
Roomies, tomorrow another roommate will be arriving. Her name is Flo. She’s from Minnesota. Make sure to say Hi and welcome her to LA when you get a chance. P.S. Don’t pick up the house line if it rings!
Nash leaves the note on the counter and steps into the bathroom. He strips off his shorts and stands naked in front of the mirror.
Tomorrow, I’m going to prove everyone wrong, he whispers toward his reflection. I’m going to show them I still have it.
He runs his left hand over his right shoulder, massaging it.
Don’t let me down, buddy, he mutters softly.
Then he turns on the shower.
Chapter 3
There’s nothing like slaying ogres and dragons to calm a worried mind. I plunge my sword into the charging ogre’s chest, and I watch the blood squirt on my computer screen. Instantly, I feel the tension in my body ease. I know many girls don’t like violent video games. But I have to admit, all this virtual killing has helped quiet my nerves regarding my move tomorrow.
“There’s another one on your right,” says XavierBlue392 through my headset.
“I see him,” I confirm.
I swirl my avatar around and split open another ogre’s head with my sword. More blood and guts spew across my screen.
“Nice kill, SexyMinx243.”
“Thanks,” I reply.
A notification pops up on the bottom right of my computer screen: Beowulf845 has joined your tribe.
My lips curl into a smile as I hastily switch to a private audio channel.
“You started without me,” Beowulf845 says over the headset, his voice relaxed and confident.
“I just thought I’d kill some dragons and ogres to blow off some steam,” I respond with giddiness.
“And how are you feeling?” he asks in a sexy whisper.
“Better, now that you’re here,” I gush.
“I’m glad,” he responds. “Let’s go to the blue room.”
Ahh, the blue room… The wonderful, seductive blue room.
There was my life before the blue room, and now there’s my life after it. The blue room is a secret bedroom in the video game that Beowulf845 introduced me to a little over a month ago. Situated in one of the castles in the online kingdom, Beowulf845 and I call it the ‘blue room’ because of the huge blue tapestries hanging on the walls. I quickly punch in the code and am transported to the location for our secret rendezvous.
“I should let you know in ad
vance, this will have to be a quick session,” I tell him.
“Why?” I hear the disappointment in his voice.
“I have to finish some stuff up tonight.”
I don’t want to tell Beowulf845 the truth: that I need to finish packing for my big trip tomorrow.
“That’s too bad,” he responds. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”
“Me too,” I confess. Ever since we met online five months ago, playing this video game, Beowulf845 and I have interacted almost every day. It started with some flirtatious banter back and forth. He commented on how attractive he thought my avatar was, and I did the same. But an attraction toward our avatars wasn’t the only thing we had in common. We both loved Prince: the greatest musical artist of all time. My favorite Prince song is “Purple Rain” closely followed by “Nothing Compares 2 You.” Beowulf845 prefers “Erotic City” and “When Doves Cry.”
Anyway, Beowulf845 and I began spending more and more time talking in the video game than actually completing any missions – like attacking a clan of ogres or seizing a castle. Then one day, Beowulf845 mentioned he had discovered a secret location in the game that nobody ever went to: the blue room.
In the blue room, our conversations grew more explicit. And soon, what were just words, turned into some really hot virtual sex. With Beowulf845, I’ve said and done things I could never imagine doing in real life.
“I’ve been thinking about your sexy body all day,” Beowulf845 purrs through my headset.
“Same here,” I confess.
“Will you turn around for me? You know how much I love admiring your figure.”
I move my avatar around. She looks nothing like I do in real life. SexyMinx243 has long blond hair, electric-blue eyes, and a slim figure with ginormous boobs. She also has tattoos running up her arms. She’s a sexy badass with a killer body.
I look nothing like SexyMinx243 in real life. My body is ink free. And I’m overweight – to put it mildly. My weight is something I’ve been teased about my whole life. It’s one of the reasons I’m so shy and self-conscious in the real world. It’s also why I’ve never had a boyfriend.
