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Fifty First Times: A New Adult Anthology

Page 27

by J. Lynn


  Tonight had been a lot of firsts for me, but this—what I was feeling—was the most important first.

  “But you know what?” Brit said, reaching between us and wrapping her hand around me. I kicked, throbbed. “This is the twenty-first century. We can do it and then go eat dinner. Right?”

  My smile spread as I leaned back, giving her space to do her thing. I hardened, and Brit was right, this was the twenty-first century, so . . . “God, you’re fucking perfect.”

  She grinned. “I know.”

  My laugh ended in a deep groan, and the last thought before I all but tackled her ass on the bed was that this was a first, a start—a new beginning—and I couldn’t wait to take this ride.

  And buy her a damn tortoise.

  About the Author

  # 1 New York Times and USA Today bestselling author JENNIFER L. ARMENTROUT (also known as J. Lynn) lives in Martinsburg, West Virginia. All the rumors you’ve heard about her state aren’t true. When she’s not hard at work writing, she spends her time reading, working out, watching really bad zombie movies, pretending to write, and hanging out with her husband and her Jack Russell, Loki.

  Her dreams of becoming an author started in algebra class, where she spent most of her time writing short stories . . . which explains her dismal grades in math. Jennifer writes young adult paranormal, science fiction, fantasy, and contemporary romance. She is published with Spencer Hill Press, Entangled Teen and Brazen, Disney/Hyperion, and Harlequin Teen.

  She also writes adult and new adult romance under the name J. Lynn. She is published by Entangled Brazen and HarperCollins.

  Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors.

  Sharing Firsts:

  A Sharing You Prequel

  MOLLY MCADAMS

  Kinlee

  Present day

  THIS COULDN’T BE happening. He couldn’t have just walked out the door—granted, I’d yelled at him to leave, had wanted him to; but now that he was gone it felt like I was fighting for air, fighting to stay treading with my head above water. I needed him back, I needed him to tell me this was all going to be okay. I was hurt, I was scared, and in turn, that had morphed into misplaced anger and ridiculous accusations. I’d been irrational; deep down I’d known that. But I couldn’t have stopped no matter how hard I tried. He was supposed to fix this, he was supposed to help get me through this . . . help us through this. Instead, I’d been stupid and yelled, and he’d walked away from us.

  We were supposed to get married in less than a week.

  I’d grown up next door to Jace Saco, and there had never been a doubt in my mind that he was the guy for me. We’d both been through so much over the years, and we’d always gotten through our hard times by leaning on each other, but who were we supposed to lean on now?

  Jace and I had never even fought before tonight. There had been plenty of disagreements, but we’d never raised our voices at each other, never called each other the names that had just been heard echoing off our walls. And I’d never been left not knowing what would come of our relationship.

  Jace had asked me to be his girlfriend when we were in the fifth grade, and while there wasn’t much in way of a relationship when you were ten, we had been the schoolyard crush envy of everyone in our grade. He’d given me my first real kiss—technically, our second kiss—on my thirteenth birthday, and had taken me out on our first date the day after I turned sixteen. We’d dated all throughout high school, and had lost our virginities to each other the night we graduated. A year and a half ago, he’d asked me to marry him, and I hadn’t taken more than a second to throw myself at him, telling him yes over and over between excited kisses.

  Looking down at the ring on my finger, a tortured sob burst from my chest, and I stumbled back until I hit the wall in our hallway. Sliding down until I was sitting on the hardwood, I pulled my knees to my chest, and dropped my face into my hands as more tears fell ruthlessly.

  “This can’t be happening,” I whispered to the empty hall.

  Seventeen years ago

  I TOOK OFF running for the swing set on the kindergarten playground, knowing that if I didn’t run as fast as possible, the other kids would beat me to it. And all I wanted to do was swing. When I was swinging, I could imagine I was flying. And flying, well, someday I would be able to fly. I just knew it. But for now, the swings were all I had.

  Just before I got to the sandpit where the swing set sat untouched in the middle, I tripped over my shoelaces and went tumbling to the ground. More kids went running past me, but no one stopped to help me up. My hands and knees stung as I rolled to my bottom and bit down on the inside of my cheek so I wouldn’t cry. My older brothers always told me that crying was for sissies. And I wasn’t a sissy.

  Looking down at my red, scraped hands, I brushed them on my pants to get rid of the pieces of blacktop, and brought my hands back to my face. No blood.

  “You’re bleeding.”

  I looked up, squinting against the sun, and shook my head at Jace. He was my next-door neighbor, and we walked to and from school with my brothers and his older brother every day, but he never talked to me during school. Because he was a boy, and I was a girl, and during school . . . the boys never talked to the girls.

  “Am not!”

  Turning around, my shoulders slumped and I had to bite down on my cheek again when I saw all the swings were already taken. I’d just wanted to fly.

  “Are too. Look,” Jace said, and I looked back to find him pointing at my knees.

  My pants were ripped, and red smears stained my knees and the edges of the jeans. I wanted my mommy, but my brothers always laughed at me when I said that too, so I scrunched my face together to keep from saying anything.

  “Come on, we’ll find Miss Katy and go to the nurse.” Reaching down, he grabbed my arms and helped me up.

  “Why are you helping me?”

  He shrugged as we walked across the playground. “What do you mean? You’re my best friend.”

  I stopped walking and looked at him with wide eyes. “No I’m not! You don’t talk to me, remember? You don’t like me.”

  “Kinlee Ann Atkins, that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. I’m gonna marry you someday, of course I like you.”

  “Wh—”

  Jace quickly pressed his lips to mine, and when he leaned back, his dimpled smile was covering his face.

  I stood there, my face felt hot, and I heard some of the kids around us laughing, making me want to cry all over again. “Why would you do that?” I yelled at him, and wiped the sleeve of my shirt over my mouth.

  “I told you, I’m gonna—”

  Pulling my arm back like my oldest brother taught me, I let it go, flying right for Jace’s nose. His head snapped back, and his hands went to his nose, blood coming out between his fingers. Tears dripping down his cheeks.

  Sissy.

  “My brothers said you have cooties! You’re not supposed to touch me.”

  “Kinlee Atkins!” I turned to see my teacher, Miss Katy, standing there. “Let’s go. Principal’s office . . . right now. Jace, come with us, and I’ll take you to the nurse.”

  My mommy had to come pick Jace and me up from school after that, and when we got out of the car, Jace leaned over and whispered in my ear. “Still gonna marry you.”

  Jace

  Present day

  PULLING UP INTO the bar’s parking lot, I threw my car in park, and slammed my hands down on the steering wheel. “Son of a fucking bitch!” Running my hands down my face, I let my head drop back against the headrest and grabbed at my chest. The pain spreading through my body was enough to cripple a man, and I wasn’t even sure how I’d made it to the bar when all I wanted to do was curl up in the back of my truck and give into the pain.

  I couldn’t believe I’d actually walked out on Kinlee. I couldn’t believe I’d left my fiancée, the girl I’d loved since before I even knew what love was, standing in our apartment, cryi
ng and upset and alone.

  But I was upset too. I was so damn mad I couldn’t stop shaking, and the shaking had nothing to do with the crippling pain, but everything to do with that stubborn as shit, ridiculous woman I was supposed to marry in less than a week.

  Throwing my truck door open, I managed to get out of my truck without falling to the ground, and made my way inside the bar to sit on a stool.

  “What can I get ya?” an old, heavyset man asked me.

  This was so cliché. Have a fight with my girl, come to a bar, sit at the bar and spill my fucking guts. “Anything, just make it strong.”

  He clicked his tongue and shook his head as he grabbed a tumbler glass. “Seen that look thousands of times. I’ll say this once, and then I won’t get in your business for the rest of the night. Whatever you did to her, coming here and drinking isn’t going to solve a goddamn thing. What you need to do, is go back to her, apologize for what ya did, and keep her in your arms all night. You hear me, son?”

  Keeping my head down, I looked up from my fisted hands on top of the scratched, wooden bar, and set my glare on him. “Who the fuck said I was the one who did something?”

  “Unless she cheated on ya, or left ya, then ya did something. Because you’re here, which means you left, and leaving during the fight is about the worst thing you can do.”

  I’d just had my fiancée tell me to leave our apartment after we’d said things that I was already regretting, I didn’t need this guy pissing me off right now. “Drink,” I said simply.

  “ID.”

  Grabbing for my wallet in my back pocket, I flipped it open, took out my driver’s license, and slammed it down on the bar. The bartender took a look at it, glanced at me, then went back to making my drink. After I put my wallet back in my pocket, he walked over and set the glass in front of me.

  “We won’t be needing that, sorry,” a voice said behind me seconds before a hand clamped around my upper arm and pulled me off the stool. “Come on, let’s go talk.”

  I looked back at my best friend, and fellow firefighter, and my scowl deepened. “The whole point of coming to a bar is to drink.”

  Aiden pulled his mouth to one side, and shook his head sadly. “Not like this, Jace, not now. You called me to be here for you, and that’s what I’m gonna do. Let’s just talk about what happened. Because if you get drunk and decide you want to go back and talk to Kinlee, how’s she supposed to know if you’re being honest?”

  “Who the fuck cares? She told me to leave, she made it clear she wants nothing to do with me, there’s no way in hell she’d let me back in to talk it out with her.”

  Aiden shoved me into a booth, and went to sit on the opposite side. “Okay, now what happened? I can’t imagine the two of you even fighting, let alone Kinlee wanting you gone.”

  I dropped my head into my hands, gripping at my hair. “That’s because we’ve never fought before tonight.”

  “Never? Seriously?”

  “Yeah, man, seriously.”

  “Dude, isn’t that a relationship rite of passage or some shit? To have your first fight?”

  A forced laugh left my chest. “Maybe for some people. But not us, that’s not how we are, you know that. We talk about things, if we don’t agree on something, we’re fine with that.”

  “Well then what went down tonight?”

  Releasing my hair, I threw my hands out to the side before slouching down in the booth. “I don’t even fucking know. One minute, we’re cleaning up after dinner, the next she’s bringing up the bachelor party, asking all these questions about what went down, why I wouldn’t answer my phone. Next thing I know, she’s accusing us of having strippers there and was demanding to know what I did with them since I passed out that night and she couldn’t get ahold of me until the next afternoon.”

  “You’re kidding, right? She has to know you were out cold on my couch, and we’d been playing poker all night. Fuck, I’ll tell her, all the guys will.”

  “She’s so mad right now, I doubt she’d believe anyone. She’s gonna think you’re all covering for me.” Picking at a thin coaster on the table, I just kept shaking my head, not understanding how this all happened. “I don’t understand. Kinlee’s never been insecure in our relationship, and she’s never been suspicious of anything, because I’ve never given her a reason to be.”

  “So”—Aiden began when I didn’t offer anything for a few moments—“she just kept accusing you and told you to leave, and you did?”

  I grimaced. I still couldn’t believe I’d talked to her like that. “Um, no. Not exactly. I said a lot of things that shouldn’t be said to the woman you’re about to marry. Fuck, they shouldn’t be said to a woman period, not just because you’re in love with her.”

  Nine years ago

  ROLLING TO MY side, I released an aggravated breath and heaved myself off my bed. Earlier that night, I’d been at Kinlee’s thirteenth birthday party, and something a couple of my friends had been talking about hadn’t left my mind since.

  I still hadn’t kissed Kinlee.

  Well, not since we were five and she punched me immediately afterward. But that didn’t count. We had been little; that was forever ago. She’d been my girlfriend for over two years now, and everyone our age kissed—at least. And I wanted to kiss her so freakin’ bad, it was all I thought about. It just wasn’t something we talked about, and—if I was being honest with myself—I was afraid of what her two older brothers would do if they happened to find out.

  Screw it.

  Pulling my sweatpants over my boxers, I threw on a long-sleeved shirt and slid on my shoes before quietly lifting up my window. Wincing when it made a piercing screech, I stopped and waited for the telltale signs of someone coming down the hall toward my room. When minutes went by and no one came, I slowly opened the window the rest of the way and climbed out, hopping over my mom’s bushes so I wouldn’t damage them.

  Walking next door, I crept around to the back of the house and knocked quietly on the window of Kinlee’s darkened room.

  Nothing.

  Knocking again, I waited a few more minutes before tapping on the window one last time. And just as I was about to turn around and creep back to my room, her beautiful face and messy dark hair were popping up in the corner.

  “Jace?” she asked, her voice muffled by the windowpane. Blinking a few times, she continued to look at me like she wasn’t sure I was there, so I smiled and pressed my hand against the cool glass. Her hand met mine on the other side for a few seconds before she was quickly unlocking and soundlessly sliding open her window. “What are you doing here?” she whispered in an anxious rush.

  “I didn’t get to give you your birthday present.”

  Her brow wrinkled, and she looked at me blankly again, like she thought she was dreaming. “Uh, yes you did. You gave me the bracelet with the hearts on it.”

  Licking my lips quickly, I looked around the backyard to make sure I didn’t see her brothers anywhere. Looking back at Kinlee—her confused expression cuter than ever—I quickly grabbed her cheeks, and brought her face to mine, pressing my lips firmly to hers. Pulling back a little, I looked at her flushed expression and smiling eyes before leaning in to kiss her again. Remembering shows I’d seen, and accidentally walking in on my older brother and his girlfriend, I hesitantly brushed my tongue against her lips. A soft whimper filled the air when she barely parted her mouth, and moved her tongue against mine.

  The kiss was uncoordinated, and awkward compared to what I’d seen . . . and the best damn thing I’d ever experienced.

  When I pulled away from her, a bright smile was lighting up her face, and I knew I looked the same.

  “Jace . . .”

  “That was the birthday present I didn’t get to give you.”

  Present day

  “ARE YOU GONNA tell me what you said, or are you going to sit there staring at the table?” Aiden’s voice interrupted my thoughts, and I looked behind me toward the bar.

  “I reall
y need a drink.”

  “No, you don’t. You need to talk this shit out and get everything straight in your head, and then go back and talk to her.”

  With a sad laugh, I flipped the coaster across the table and covered my face with my hands. “I called Kinlee a psychotic bitch and told her to—and I quote—‘sit the fuck down and shut your goddamn mouth for once’ so I could tell her what happened at your place Friday night.”

  Looking up, I saw Aiden blinking at me slowly, his eyebrows raised to his hairline.

  “I know,” I said to his unspoken response. “No excuse, absolutely none. I’d just kept trying to talk to her, and every time I said anything, she started screaming over me . . . finally I just flipped. Then because I was yelling, she thought I was getting defensive, which—according to her—means that she was right and I’d been lying all along.

  “Then it just started getting ridiculous. She started questioning if I even worked for the fire department, what I was doing all those hours I was ‘supposedly working,’ and how I was making my money. Asked if the girls were actually strippers, or some chick I’d been cheating on her with for some time now . . . called me a cheating bastard. Next thing I know, she’s throwing shit at me. The dishwashing soap, fruit out of the fruit bowl, the bread. She. Just. Freaked.”

  “What the fuck?” Aiden wasn’t even looking at me anymore. “None of this sounds like Kinlee. At all. She’s the most laid-back girl I’ve ever known, for fuck’s sake, Jace, she points out hot girls when we’re out somewhere.”

  “I know!”

  “Is she PMS-ing, or something?”

  Shaking my head, I shrugged helplessly. “I don’t think so, but even if she were, this would be the first time I’ve ever seen her act this way. I don’t know, I’m completely at a loss right now. It . . .” I trailed off, and folded my arms on the table before dropping my forehead to them.

  “What? It what?” Aiden prompted when I didn’t continue.

  “Swear to God, it was like she was doing it on purpose, so I would get mad at her and leave.” When I lifted my head, Aiden was blurry, and I couldn’t even find it in me to care that he was seeing me cry. “I’m finally about to marry the only girl I’ve ever loved, and she was setting up a fight so I would be the one to break up with her.”

 

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