Torn
Pathways Book 3
Krista Carleson
Quick Escape Press
© Copyright 2018 by Krista Carleson - All rights reserved.
In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Published by Quick Escape Press
[email protected]
Contents
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
Epilogue
Also by Krista Carleson
1
The morning breeze bathed my cheeks as Coldplay’s “Speed of Sound” blasted in my earbuds, helping me lose myself in thought. I wasn’t a morning person, but I preferred running in mornings, so I could make the most of my days.
I was a passionate runner, and loved sports, but I didn’t have much time for them lately as I was pretty busy with work. These days I barely had time for dates, not that I was particularly interested in meeting someone who would most likely turn to be obnoxious in the end. I was that unlucky.
I’d given up on finding a decent person a long time ago, having concluded that men were boring pigs who only cared about getting laid. Look at the guy I met last night. He was handsome and all that, but the minute he opened his mouth, I wanted to run away. He managed to fit one-hundred percent into a person from my “Never to Date” list.
Arrogant.
Shallow.
Self-obsessed.
Alcoholic (Seriously, how many glasses of beer could one stomach handle?).
Boring.
Interested only in business topics (If I ever heard one more time about earnings per share, I would lose it).
Dirty nails.
Oh boy, the last one always drove me nuts. There was nothing worse than a guy with dirty nails. Ugh. Did they ever clean their nails? Did they even get the concept?
So it was no wonder I had scurried out of that restaurant twenty-five minutes into our date. I broke my record.
I shouldn’t have let Claire, one of my best friends from college, convince me to return to dating. Last night’s date was just another disaster in a sea of disasters. Sometimes, I wondered if I was destined to stay single my whole life. Maybe not everyone was meant to find their soulmate. Maybe such a thing didn’t exist after all.
Shaking my head at my suddenly gloomy thoughts, I increased my pace and headed toward a path in between the trees. The spring leaves dancing in the wind were a beautiful sight, their colors lightening my mood and bringing a smile back to my face. I dabbled in drawing when I was a teenager, and I used to get my inspiration from nature and—
“Ugh!” I collided with something solid and crashed down to the ground, scraping my arm.
“Hey! Are you okay?”
A masculine hand appeared in front of my face, and then I met a pair of intense gray eyes that caused my brain to short-circuit. Literally. For a couple of minutes, all I could think about was how hot he was. Too hot.
He was tall and athletic, his arms corded with perfectly-sculpted muscles. He was definitely into sports because that body definition was to die for. His skin was tanned, which brought out his dirty blonde hair and gray eyes that were now twinkling with amusement. But those lips… Sensually carved and curled into that sexy smirk…
He was yummy. Yummy, yummy, yummy.
“Um, yeah. Right.” I resisted the urge to shake my head in a bid to clear this confusion from my mind. I was acting as if I’d never seen such a gorgeous man. Ridiculous. Hell, I was seeing them every day in my office, yet I couldn’t stop ogling at this guy. “I’m fine. Even more than fine.” Even more than fine now that I got to see such a sexy guy, almost slipped out of my mouth.
I wrapped my fingers around his hand, letting him pull me up to my feet, and a sizzling sensation surged through my body at the contact. It seemed he felt it too, since he held my hand a few beats longer, his eyes lingering on me, and I actually had to remind myself to keep breathing.
He frowned when he noticed the long scratch on my forearm, worry lines on his face deepening. “You’re injured. I’m sorry. It’s my fault. If I’d paid more attention—”
“No, really, it’s okay. It’s my fault.” I flashed a smile at him, surprised how sweet he was. “Don’t sweat it.” I winked at him. “No pun intended,” I joked, referring to my sweaty face and clothes.
His smile evolved into a full-on laugh, and dimples appeared on his cheeks. “Are we going to compete as to whose fault this was?”
Charming. “I’m a pretty stubborn person, so in that case, I wouldn’t let you win that easily.”
“What a coincidence. I’m pretty competitive too, so...” He reached out his hand for a handshake. “I’m Liam.”
I accepted his hand, reveling in how strong it was. “I’m Alison. Do you play sports? It would explain the competitiveness and your impressive body.” Wow. I did not just say that. Filter, Alison. Do you have any?
“You think I have an impressive body?”
No shame whatsoever, I openly checked him out. “It would be a lie if I said I don’t. But I think you’re pretty much aware of it yourself, so you don’t need me boosting your ego.”
He let a hearty chuckle out. “I don’t often hear women telling me that, so your compliment is highly appreciated.”
I feigned a gasp of shock. “Impossible! I’m sure they’re throwing themselves all over you.”
He raised one eyebrow, completely amused. “Nope, I don’t remember anyone throwing themselves at me, but you can volunteer to be the first if you want.”
He’s flirting with me. “Sorry, sorry. Me and my big mouth. I’m getting ahead of myself here.”
“It’s all good. Would you like to run together a bit?” Yep. Definitely flirting. He raised his hands in the air. “I hope I don’t sound too pushy.”
“You’re not. If anyone is pushy here, it’s me. Sometimes—okay, often—I have a tendency to ramble on, and someone really needs to stop me then, and I’m doing it now, and I probably look and sound foolish, but don’t mind me.”
His smirk was contagious, and a moment later, we were both laughing.
“You’re cute,” he said, never looking away, his sweet voice mesmerizing.
I noticed him checking me out from the corner of my eye, right before I started running again, and a pang of desire hit me. He was ridiculously attractive and charming. That was a dangerous combination.
“So, are you?” I asked him after a minute of silence. “Playing sports, I mean.”
“Yes. I’m a soccer player.”
“Really? Nice. Which team are you playing for?”
“I’m playing for Manchester United.”
I almost tripped, astounded by his revelation. I’ve met several popular soccer, football, and baseball players throughout my career, but no one of this caliber.
“Just wow. Manchester United. Impressive. Is this the part where I start squealing like a true fangirl and ask for your autograph? Ma
ybe take a lipstick and ask you to sign on my chest or something equally tacky?”
“No, that wouldn’t be the first for me.”
“I bet. Do they often ask for autographs?”
“Yeah. Crowds and crowds of fans every day.” Sarcasm is strong in this one. I liked that.
I threw him an incredulous glance, slightly speeding up. He responded with a hoarse laugh.
“Good one.” I winked at him and wiped off several beads of sweat that had slid down my temples.
“I don’t consider myself that popular, but I’m a good player.”
“And you’re humble, I see.”
“Fame comes and goes. The only thing that matters is hard work.”
Amazing. I was so used to seeing spoiled and arrogant players that hearing something like this left me dumbfounded.
“Truer words have never been spoken. I wholeheartedly agree with you.” We continued along another path, passing next to a pond. “So what are you doing in the U.S.?”
“I come here during my off-season. I was born here, so I keep coming back whenever I can.”
“Do you miss this city?”
“A lot.”
“What’s life like in England?”
“Rainy.”
I burst into a fit of laughter, fighting for breath. I was enjoying this conversation too much.
“So it’s true. It rains all the time.”
“Yeah. Sunny days are one of the things I really, really miss. How about you? Do you play sports too?”
“No, I’m just a runner. But I work as a sports therapist.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
“That’s cool.”
“It is. I love watching sports, but I also love medicine, and somehow, it was natural for me to pick my major. I just combined two things I liked the most.”
When I glanced at him, I already found him looking at me, his handsome features forming something that could only be described as desire. He masked it quickly and looked away.
I had no intention of letting it slide. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“No, what?”
We reached the end of our path, near the playground, and he halted several feet in front of me. I looked up and down at his body, taking in his wide back and nicely shaped ass.
He turned to face me, the look on his face fiery, and I felt grateful that I never blushed, for I was sure I would be red as a tomato now.
“I’ve never met a sports therapist as beautiful as you.”
“You flatter me.”
He stepped closer to me. I had difficulty breathing, which had nothing to do with running.
“I’m just telling you the truth. I’m sure if you were treating my wounds, I would be even more motivated to be at the top of my game.”
A smile was plastered on my face. “You’re definitely flattering me, Mr. Charmer. Do other chicks dig this?”
He responded with a panty-dropping smirk. I was stunned by his extremely attractive appearance. “Maybe. Do you dig it?”
Whoa. I looked to the other side, unsure of how to react. If he was any other guy, I would respond to his advances—to hell with my recent bad luck with guys—especially if they were as charming and sexy as he was. But he was going away. Whatever we could have was doomed to end quickly from the start.
“If I tell you, I would have to kill you. That’s top secret.”
“I see.” He glanced at his wristwatch. “I had a nice time with you, Alison.” He motioned with his head toward my arm. “Are you sure you’re okay? That scrape looks painful.”
“It’s nothing that a band-aid can’t fix, don’t worry.”
He scratched his neck, glancing away before he met my gaze again. “Look, I feel guilty for injuring you, so I’d like to give you my number. It’s only fair. If you need anything—and I mean anything—don’t hesitate to call me.” He fished his phone out of his pocket.
My stomach was doing flips at the moment. “The next thing I know, you’re calling me for a date.”
The smile he cast me was dazzling. “I like your confidence.”
“It’s my trademark.”
“So let’s say I call you for a date. Would you go out with me?”
I cocked my head to my side, my stomach twisting into knots. “That’s also top secret.”
“Then, let’s see if you’ll be willing to share this secret sometime in the future.”
I took my phone, unable to wipe the grin off my face as we exchanged numbers.
“Seriously, sorry for the collision. Have that scrape treated as soon as possible. You don’t want it infected.”
“Sure, doc.”
His chuckle brought tingles to my skin. I liked the sound of his laugh. “I have a soccer match with my friends, so I have to go now, but I guess we’ll see each other around?”
“Absolutely.”
He took another step closer to me, and for a moment, I thought he was going to kiss me on the cheek. That idea was thrilling. However, he stopped and smiled at me, his beautiful eyes crinkling.
“Then see you around, sexy.”
With that, he spun around and jogged out of the park, allowing me to gawk at him shamelessly.
2
“So he’s hot, witty, and a soccer player?” Marissa, my friend, and co-worker asked me, looking at me from the other side of Claire’s room. Marissa, Claire, and I were friends from college, and we all worked as therapists at Pathways, a wellness clinic we started together.
Today was a big day. We were getting ready for Claire’s engagement party, spending hours choosing dresses and hairstyles. I took a gulp from my third glass of wine, already pretty close to tying one on and in a pretty good mood. I’d told them about my encounter with Liam and how much I’d enjoyed talking with him.
“Yeah. He sounds like he came right out of the Perfect Man catalog.”
“Perfect man?” Claire inquired. “Does something like that exist for you? You’ve always claimed men are imperfect beings that will always disappoint you in one way or another.”
“Exactly,” Marissa agreed. “You always find some flaw in them.”
I tilted my head to the side, studying my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were smoked out and my face was covered with a thin layer of foundation and blush that accentuated my unblemished, fair skin.
I went over Liam’s physical and mental features stored in my memory, failing to find anything negative.
“Well, this time it’s different. I’m telling you, he is fine.”
“And you are texting each other now?” Marissa asked me.
We’d started texting four days ago and had been sending each other a plethora of messages ever since. I was pretty much fired up about it because the guy had the same taste in movies and music as me, and his sense of humor was amazing. His messages had quickly become the highlight of my day, inviting an unwavering smile to my face each time my phone screen filled with his words. My facial muscles were hurting from all that smiling.
As if following a command, I smiled when I remembered one of the last texts he had sent me. I’d mentioned to him I was going to a party tonight and didn’t know what to wear.
“I bet you’ll be the most beautiful girl at the party,” he wrote.
“What’s the point if you’re not there?” I wrote back, taking the plunge.
I was walking a dangerous line because we could never be together. I wanted to know more about Liam, but he would be leaving eventually, which was a shame. I had the worst luck with men. Someone should give me a medal for it.
“Just teasing you,” I sent him another message before he concluded I was too pushy or obnoxious.
“Teasing or not, I’d love that, but my friend got engaged and I have to attend his engagement party tonight.”
“What a coincidence! My friend also got engaged and she’s throwing a party tonight.”
“Congratulate her in my name.”
“Ditto.”
“Yeah, we’ve been texting each other since that morning in the park,” I responded to Marissa.
Claire put her red high heels on, which she paired with a white flowery dress. “Is this something serious or just one of your flirtations?”
I had un urge to run my hand over my face, but I couldn’t since that would ruin my makeup. “I don’t know. We’ve hit it off from the start, but I know I can’t expect this to turn into something more, which is a shame. Only I can be so unlucky. The whole life I’ve been looking for someone like him, and now that I’ve found him…”
Marissa’s eyebrow raised. “What if he’s a douchebag? They are all sweet and nice in the beginning, but they show their real face after they get laid.”
“Wow, Mari. So negative. Daniel and Jared are sweet and nice, so why can’t this guy be sweet too?” Claire said.
“And I thought I was the bitter one here,” I mumbled, sending a fake death glare at Marissa.
She shrugged her shoulders. “Well, you said it yourself. Your luck is the size of a pea, so I wouldn’t be surprised if Liam turns out to be another miss.”
“Thanks, bestie. Your words are a balm for my wounded heart.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Enough about lil’ old me. Today is your day, Claire. How are you feeling?”
“I still can’t believe it’s real, you know?” She glanced at her ring, her eyes glazed with love. “Did you feel the same when Daniel proposed you, Mari?”
Marissa’s smile conveyed more than any words could. “It felt unreal, yeah. I still get goosebumps when I remember the moment he proposed to me on the beach. I was laughing like a maniac for days. Daniel thought I was on drugs.”
“That’s how I feel right now. Like I’m on drugs.”
“Jared is your most precious drug.” I winked at her.
Torn: A Contemporary Sports Romance (Pathways Book 3) Page 1
