Where We Belong

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Where We Belong Page 1

by K. L. Grayson




  Where We Belong

  Copyright ©2014 K.L. Grayson

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Cover Photographer: Tess J Photography

  Cover Designer: Wicked By Design

  Editor: S.G. Thomas

  Bio Pic Photographer: Elisabeth Wiseman Photography

  Formatting by Champagne Formats

  ISBN: 978-0-9907955-0-6

  Dedication

  Prologue

  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

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Defying All Odds

  Writing this book is a dream come true for me, but I absolutely could not have done it without the help of some amazingly wonderful women. Each and every one of you stepped up and offered me your help, advice, expertise, and guidance without batting an eye and I am truly grateful. Alexis Durbin, Nevaeh Lee, Mia Kayla, B.A. Wolfe, Michelle Lynn, Livia Jamerlan, A.L. Zaun, Elisabeth Grace, K. Langston, and Mia Sheridan…thank you—from the bottom of my heart—thank you.

  “HOLY SHIT, THAT BURNS!" I crinkle my nose up at the fire the tequila leaves behind.

  "Pussy." Quinn laughs, handing me a lemon and popping one in her mouth.

  Flipping her off, I swivel in my seat, watching all the sweaty bodies fight for attention on the dance floor. Adam Levine's seductive voice croons through the speakers, and I sway to the beat.

  My eyes wander over to the pool table, landing on Ty. Reaching up, he runs his fingers through his shaggy, brown hair and laughs at something someone says. His dimples take root, and his smile lights up his face. I tilt my head to the side, a deep sigh rushing from my lips. Ty.

  We're friends.

  Best friends.

  That's it.

  Tyson and I grew up together. Literally. Our mothers have been best friends since the day my family moved in next door. At the ripe age of twelve months, Tyson and I became friends. We not only learned how to walk together, we learned how to do everything together. He was my preschool buddy, my co-conspirator in detention, and he survived my attempts at learning how to drive.

  Tonight, we are celebrating because this morning, we graduated from college together. Me, with a degree in nursing, and Ty with his bachelor's in biology—Pre-Med.

  Quinn nudges my shoulder. "You love him. You need to tell him or you're going to regret it." She thinks she's helping, but she's not. Some things should just stay the way they are...I think.

  "Quinn," I say, raising my glass to the server with a quick nod, letting her know I want another. "It's complicated."

  She shakes her head with a sarcastic laugh. "Only because you're making it. Why you two are in the friend zone is beyond me."

  The server sets down another round of shots. "Shut up and drink. To friends!" I raise my glass, tap it against hers, and down the shot. I stare at my empty shot glass. My head spins, signaling the beginning of a nice buzz. I wasn't planning on getting drunk tonight, but after the bomb Tyson dropped on me a couple of hours ago, I need this.

  Tyson is standing in the doorway to my bedroom, his hands tucked deep in his pockets. He looks off to the side. "Harley, we need to talk." His voice is pained, and he hasn't made a move to come in. I can tell I'm not going to like this. My heart drops into the pit of my stomach because I can feel it in my bones...something is off.

  "Okaaaay, shoot." I train my eyes on the suitcase in front of me as I begin to pull out clothes. He reaches for me, but I turn away and stuff some T-shirts in my drawer.

  "A lot changes when you go away to college for four years," he says, running his hand down the back of his neck.

  "Yes, it can." Opening the closet door, I stare into the dark empty space. "Moving back home is going to take some getting used to. I'm definitely finding a place of my own right after I find a job."

  “Brit and I decided not to stay at Wash U for medical school," he blurts. “She wants to be closer to her family." Ty wipes his hands on his jeans and fidgets as he sits on my bed. I take a deep breath and close my eyes.

  Ty shifts toward me, reaching for my hand. This time, I don't pull away. "Please look at me, Harley. I want you to understand what I'm saying."

  I blow out the breath I didn't know I was holding and stare at my suitcase for a few more seconds before I look up. "Doesn't Brit's family live in New York?"

  "They do," he nods, "as soon as she told me she wanted to be near them, we applied to the medical school at Columbia, and we've both been accepted. We, ummm, we leave next week."

  "What?" I gasp, jumping up, my eyes nearly popping out of my head. "You can't be serious." My voice rises with each word. "Just like that?" I shake my head, refusing to accept this. "You're just going to up and leave?" I shove a drawer closed harder than I intend, causing the mirror to shake violently. "One week? That's it?" Tears gather in my eyes and I look away, blinking rapidly to keep them at bay.

  I will not cry.

  I will not cry.

  “I’m sorry, Harley," Tyson's voice cracks. “I didn’t know how to tell you." He sighs heavily, dropping his head. “I didn’t want to tell you." His hands shake in his lap, and some of my anger dissipates. The magnetic pull we've always had draws me closer to him. My fingers itch to dive into his hair and pull him against me. To comfort him. To comfort me. Something—anything—to slow down whatever storm he's battling...but . . . I don't.

  “Wow," I whisper, sitting on the bed next to him. “I’m not really sure what to say." I look up, and our eyes meet in the mirror. “Is this what you want? I mean, she isn’t pressuring you to do this. Right?”

  He shakes his head slowly. “No, she isn't." I reach over and grab his hand, entwining my fingers with his, and he squeezes his eyes shut with the contact. “She’s my future, Harley," he says, looking up. "This is my future. Please tell me you understand." He clutches my hand, a silent plea for me to accept the path he’s chosen.

  Don't go.

  Stay.

  Don't do this.

  “Of course,” I whisper, my heart breaking at the lie. Unable to hold back the tears, I let them fall silently down my cheeks while my mind yells at me to say or do something to make him stay.

  "Earth to Harley," Quinn says, jolting me out of my trip across the minefield I walked through today.

  I glance over at the pool table again. Tyson's arm hangs loosely around Brit's neck. Her arms are wrapped tightly around his bod
y. Me. That should be me.

  I watch as he wraps her perfectly straight, blond hair around his hand and tugs her beautifully sculpted face to his. He leans down, placing a gentle kiss on her pouty lips, and when she smiles, I swear, I'm blinded by her sparkling blue eyes. I, on the other hand, was gifted with an unruly brown rat's nest on top of my head and a pair of mossy green eyes with a tiny button nose. Side by side, we are the princess and the frog.

  Okay, I may be exaggerating a bit. I'm cute, or so I've been told. But Brit is every man's dream. She can have any guy she wants, but she wants Tyson—my Tyson.

  I sigh as he pulls her in closer. The worst part is that he wants her, too.

  I hate her.

  They began dating our sophomore year in college, and my relationship with Brit has been rocky at best. She's frequently upset with the amount of time that Ty and I spend together. Despite our reassurances that we're just friends, she doesn't buy it. On more than one occasion, she has tried to convince Ty that I've been harboring secret feelings for him. She even went so far as to accuse me of using our friendship as an excuse to spend extra time with him.

  And although Tyson never believed her, she was right. I do have feelings for Ty. I’ve loved that boy since I was nine years old. The minute he punched Jimmy Tallen in the nose for calling me ugly, my heart belonged to him.

  Telling him about my feelings just didn't seem like an option. He never seemed to be into me, and I wasn't willing to risk losing our friendship. So I sat back, watching quietly as he dated girl after girl. I nursed his broken hearts and encouraged him to get back on the dating wagon, as any good friend would do. Then Brit literally stumbled into our lives and everything changed. I didn’t like it at all.

  Tyson used to know everything about me. He knew all of my secrets, lies, and insecurities. But that isn't the case anymore. He doesn't know my biggest secret—he doesn't know that I'm in love with him.

  Something began to happen though when he told me he was moving. It took me all afternoon to recover from the bomb he dropped and I'm not sure what it was, but it's like a puzzle piece was put into place. Everything became crystal clear. He can’t leave without knowing the truth.

  “One more shot,” I say, raising my glass to Quinn.

  Her lips curl into a devious smile. “Someone is getting brave.”

  “I need all the liquid courage I can get." We tap and chug.

  “It’s about damn time.” She has been trying to get me to confess my undying love for Ty for the past four years.

  My head spins when I move to stand, but it’s not because I’m drunk. Confrontations have never been my strong suit. Not that I’m going to confront Ty in a bad way, but until now, I've always been able to predict how Tyson will react to things. This…well, I honestly have no idea how he is going to respond to this.

  On unsteady legs, I make my way across the bar. Ty is playing pool with Levi and Cooper, his college roommates. This is the perfect time to approach him since Brit is standing at an adjacent table talking to some of her friends. I would prefer her not to be present for this conversation.

  Levi greets my intrusion with a hug. “Hello, gorgeous." His hand roams down to the small of my back, and I smack it away playfully.

  Poking his chest, I give him a firm look. "No ass grabbing tonight," I scold.

  I lean against the back wall and watch as Cooper sweeps the table. That's my cue. Wasting no time, I kick off the wall and approach Ty. “Hey, got a sec?”

  He cocks his head to the side, giving me a lopsided grin that makes my insides melt and my knees wobble. “Anything for you, you know that."

  Taking a deep cleansing breath, I calm my nerves. “Can we step outside? Maybe somewhere a little more quiet?"

  Tyson purses his lips, but he doesn’t protest. Instead he places his hand at the small of my back and steers me toward the side door.

  “I think there are some tables outside in the back,” he says quietly.

  I nod once and continue for the exit. Tyson opens the door and a rush of hot air greets us before he guides me to the right and toward the back of the building, where we locate a group of picnic tables. We walk quietly side-by-side while I give myself a pep talk.

  Breathe.

  You can do it.

  Breathe.

  What’s the worst that could happen?

  Don’t forget to breathe.

  We stop by one of the tables and I grab Ty's arm, preventing him from sitting. “I think you’re going to want to stand for this."

  I know him all too well, and I’m sure that within the next two minutes he’ll be pacing like a bull.

  “Okay. You’re starting to make me nervous, Harley. Is everything okay?" He runs his hand through his hair, giving it that I-just-had-wild-monkey-sex look, and then he shoves both hands into his pockets.

  I take a deep breath and blow it out slowly. It’s now or never. “I love you.”

  Smiling sweetly, he replies, “I love you, too.”

  I shake my head, pinning him with my stare, trying to convey how much my feelings have morphed from friendship into something more. “No. I love you, love you, Ty."

  At first he just looks at me, and I’m not completely sure he understands what I’m saying.

  But then I see it.

  Acceptance, relief, and fear flash quickly through his eyes, before settling on the one thing that makes this all worth it: love. Pure love.

  My body sags with relief. This was the right move.

  My small bubble of hope is quickly popped as Tyson's expression changes. His face turns cold. His eyebrows narrow. He shakes his head slowly. He looks over at me and then stares at the ground, clenching his fists. When his eyes land back on mine, the love that I saw a second ago is gone. But it was there. I saw the adoration in his eyes. He can fight it all he wants, but it was there.

  “Don’t leave. Please don’t leave," I beg, my voice panicky. Desperation takes over. I cling to his arms, trying to get him to look at me, but he shrugs me away. “Stay. Please stay. Stay here with me. I love you." My words rush out, tumbling over each other. I can’t stop them. “I know you’re my best friend, but I love you. I’m in love with you. I want to be with you, Ty. Give me a chance...give us a chance." I reach slowly for his hand, needing to make some sort of contact, but he pushes me away. With his fingers tightly laced together, he placed his hands on his head and paces in circles.

  "I know I'm asking a lot," I say, my voice thick with emotion. "I should have told you a long time ago, but I didn't, and I can't change that now."

  Tyson keeps walking in circles, clenching and unclenching his fists.

  I take a hesitant step toward him. "I know that this is incredibly selfish of me. I know I'm asking you to give up everything, but—"

  "I can't believe this is happening," he interrupts. I don't respond because he doesn't give me the chance. "How long, Harley? How long have you felt like this?"

  "Years."

  "Years?" he asks incredulously, his eyebrows arched.

  I nod my head, swallowing hard, suppressing the tears threatening to fall.

  His head drops down. His voice is quiet but full of curiosity. "Why now, Harley? Why not a year ago, a month ago, or hell, a week ago? Why now?"

  "Because you're too important to me, Ty. I was scared." My voice cracks when I say his name and a fat tear streaks down my cheek. "I didn't want to risk our friendship. I didn't want to lose everything we have if you didn't feel the same way." I squeeze my eyes shut and hang my head in regret. I should have told him sooner, but I've come this far, and I'm sure as hell not giving up now. Wiping away the wetness under my eyes, I step in Ty's path, preventing further pacing. "Would it have mattered? If I would have told you a year ago, a month ago, or a week ago...would it have mattered?"

  His eyes are downcast, his lips tilted in a frown. My chest tightens and my hand twitches, wanting to touch him, but I don't.

  "Yes," he whispers, looking up at me. "It would have mattered."


  "Then it matters now!" I snap. "If it would have mattered then, then it matters now. We can do this, Ty. You just have to take the chance. Please take the chance. Please," I beg.

  His emotions shift once again, anger and resentment visibly overtaking the sadness. Reaching for his head, Ty grips his hair tightly and a deep growl rips from his throat. "Damn it, Harley." His voice is low and hard. My eyes widen in shock at the menacing glare he shoots at me. "What the fuck do you want me to say to that? You're doing this because I told you I'm leaving. Do you realize what you're asking? You're asking me to uproot my entire life. Do you know the work it took to transfer medical schools? And what about Brit?" His mouth parts and a look of horror overcomes his features. "Brit," he mutters to himself. “Fuuuuuck. Brit was right.”

  He begins to mumble and I’m not sure if he is talking to himself or to me. “Brit told me you had feelings for me. I didn’t listen. I defended you. I mean...I had hoped you did, but I didn't know. I told her she was wrong and that she was just jealous." He looks at me, eyes wide with shock. “But she was right. My God! All those times I left her to spend time with you...” His words drop off but quickly resume. “I told her there was no way you felt that way about me because you're my best friend." He stops pacing and turns to face me, but his eyes are trained on the ground.

  Silence consumes us. Tension fills the air.

  “Ty, say something please,” I whisper. “Please tell me what you’re thinking. You’re my best friend, and I know you feel like I’m just throwing this at—"

  “But you are,” he interrupts loudly. “You are just throwing this at me, Harley!"

  I grip my hands tightly in front of me, wringing my fingers together in pure desperation. My heart slams in my chest. I know he feels the same way. He loves me. I saw it in his eyes. I just have to convince him that this is right. I wait patiently for him to continue, but when his hard gaze lands on me, my hope vanishes into thin air and my heart plummets to the ground. His lips are set in a firm line, and his eyebrows are dipped low in disappointment.

  “I’m with Brit,” he states firmly. “And I’m not going to hurt her...I can’t." He shakes his head. "She hasn’t done anything to deserve this,” he says, waving his hand between the two of us. The pacing continues, back and forth in front of me until he finally removes his hands from his hair and places them on his hips. He turns to face me. There is a finality in his eyes that causes my resolve to crumble. I throw a hand to my mouth, but I can't stop the sob that slips out.

 

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