Nathaniel: True Love: New Adult College Romance Novella (Coral Gables Series Book 4)
Page 1
Table of Contents
The Coral Gables Series
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Dear readers,
Rights and Other Boring Stuff
Nathaniel
True Love
Drucie Anne Taylor
Copyright © 2014 Drucie Anne Taylor
Translation © 2015 Claudia Rapp
Edited by Annie Cosby
Layout: Annie Cosby / Drucie Anne Taylor
Cover design by © Art for your book/Sabrina Dahlenburg using
several motifs of: © DragonImages (fotolia.com) & © thinglass (bigstockphoto.com)
Manufacturing and Publishing: Createspace
ISBN-13: 978-1530047031
ISBN-10: 153004703X
Contact: drucie@drucieannetaylor.de
http://drucieannetaylor.de
This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual living or dead, businesses, organizations, events or locales is entirely
coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without my written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
If you would like to know more about me, feel free to visit me on Facebook.
https://www.facebook.com/authordrucietaylor/
First published in German in June 2014 as
'Nathaniel: Vertraute Liebe'
The Coral Gables Series
The Coral Gables series tells the love stories of a circle of friends, but each book can be read as a stand-alone. My Coral Gables is a fictitious place, which exists only in my imagination.
I hope you enjoy Nathaniel and Shailene’s story. Other novels in the series include:
Rough – Daunting Temptation
Avery – Sensual Desire
Linden – Rocking Pleasure
Nathaniel – True Love
Also available from Drucie Anne Taylor
Gavin – Pure Passion (Hamptons Series Book 1)
Prologue
I’m lying on my bed bawling my eyes out. Today I received a breakup text. Why did he do this to me? Yesterday he told me he loved me, and now this.
“Is everything all right, Shailene?” Mom asks from beyond the door.
All I want is to be alone, so I’ve locked myself in my room. Why can’t I just fall asleep right now, at sixteen years old, and never wake up again? Nathaniel broke my heart, and now I’m sure he never loved me. I was only a fill-in, certainly not the love of his life, as he kept telling me.
Dear God, why does it have to hurt so badly? I was in love with him for months, even before he finally asked me out half a year ago. We got along great right from the start, and we had tons of fun together. And now, all of a sudden, it’s supposed to be over and mean nothing? I can’t process the thought.
***
I’ve managed to get a grip, more or less. I evade Nathaniel and his friends, but because he’s on the football team, each and every corner of the school reminds me of him.
At least we haven’t run into each other again after his text.
I walk down the hallway and speed up because I’m a little late for class. When I hear giggling at my back, I freeze and then turn around. What I see curdles my blood: Nathaniel and my friend Caroline, standing by the wall … and making out.
“Oh my god,” I breathe, turning away and breaking into a run.
My imminent class is forgotten, and all I can think is that I need to get away from here. When I pass an open door and see an empty classroom beyond, I slip inside and close the door behind me, leaning back against it with a sob.
I slide down to sit on the floor in a big, crying heap. The tears blur my vision as I let them fall.
This is when I fully realize that I not only gave my heart to Nathaniel—but also a knife. A knife with which to either protect me or hurt me.
He chose to hurt me.
And now I’m sitting here, bawling my eyes out yet again, feeling devastated and empty.
Nathaniel Jenkins stole my heart and butchered it, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive him.
Chapter 1
Six years later
When Nathaniel throws the football down the field, the announcer, who’s also one of my best friends, yells, “Touchdown!”
He’s my ex. Nathaniel, I mean, not the announcer. It had been a long time, but I instantly recognized him when our paths crossed again on campus. He didn’t recognize me.
The crowd cheers loudly for the Hurricanes, our college football team, which is currently in the lead. I’m sitting next to my brother, Noah, who’s also a student here. We share a car and an apartment close to campus, and we both work part-time in order to afford tuition and everything else.
My name is Shailene Cooper. I’m almost twenty-two years old, and I’m from Miami. Well, I was born here, but I was orphaned when I was eleven, so I was sent from one foster family to the next, moving through different states for three years, until I was allowed to stay with the Coopers here in my hometown when I was fourteen. That also means Noah isn’t my biological brother, but we get along like he is.
“These guys are such show-offs,” Noah grumbles.
“They’re athletes. Their job is to show off their prowess,” I say with a smirk.
“Of course you would see it that way, considering your ex is on the team.”
“My ex, yes,” I counter, “so that’s not a reason for me to defend the team.”
“Sure. Try to talk your way out of that.” He chuckles.
“I’m not talking my way anywhere,” I giggle.
“Blah blah. Blah blah blaaaah,” he says, grimacing in a way that makes me laugh every single time. “Can we go now? I’m bored.”
Noah is exactly one year older than me. We have the same birthday. How’s that for strange coincidences?
“Okay,” I concede, after stifling my bubbling laughter.
We hastily leave the bleachers, trying not to block the views of the other spectators for too long. Then we make our way back to the car.
“What do we do now?” I ask, because I’m not in the mood to go home at eight p.m.
“How about going to The Heat?” Noah suggests.
“I’d rather go to Dizzles,” I answer. “There’s a student band playing again tonight.” I really like live music, no matter what kind. The only exception is techno, which is just too shrill for me—and the strobe lights give me a headache.
“A movie would be nice, too,” Noah muses.
“Maybe next week. Tonight I’m more in the mood for having fun, dancing, going out.”
He nods and gets into the car. I’ve barely buckled up in the passenger seat when Noah starts the engine and steps on the gas. “But you’re not going to get drunk, are you?”
“You know I can’t handle my alcohol. I’ll have one beer and a lot of sodas,” I vow.
“Good. Just wanted to make sure.”
I smile and shake my head, looking out the window at the darkening streets.
***
Dizzles is still r
ather empty when we arrive. Of course, it’s not even half past eight, and most of the students are still at the game. In an hour or two, the place will be packed.
“Where should we sit?” Noah asks.
“At the bar or at one of the tables?”
He laughs. “That’s what I was asking.”
I take a look around. The table right under the AC vent is empty, so I point to it. “Over there. You’re getting the drinks. I’ll have a Coke.”
“Lazy ass,” he mumbles, heading for the bar.
I sit on one of the stools and let my eyes roam the back area. There are still few patrons. The place opens early on football nights, so the people can trickle in instead of storming the castle all at once.
When Noah returns to the table, he hands me a glass and sits down as well. “This place is deserted.”
“Everyone’s still watching the game.”
“Yeah,” he grumbles, “what a boring sport.”
“It’s okay,” I say. “I like to watch a game every now and then, and today I went because you suggested it.”
“Oh, sure. It didn’t have anything to do with Nate playing?” Noah teases. “And the chance that he might spot you there?”
I roll my eyes at the insinuation. “That was six years ago, me and him. He probably doesn’t even remember me anymore.”
“That’s what you think.”
I sigh and lower my eyes, staring at my Coke and then taking a sip. Why would he remember me? We didn’t go out for very long since he dropped me for someone else. Seriously. Sometimes, when I think of how happy I was with him, I still feel a dull ache for what could have been. I had my first time with him, and I cared a lot … but considering how he treated me in the end, I obviously never meant anything to him.
I’m glad Noah drops the subject then.
***
“Do you want to dance, or are you planning on growing roots on this stool?” I ask Noah after a while.
“I’m already dancing,” he says, pointing to his bouncing leg.
I smirk and shake my head before turning around and walking over to the dance floor. I need regular doses of dancing. It helps me forget all the stress and worries I’m dealing with at any given moment. As I sway my hips to the rhythm of a hip-hop song, I keep an eye on the other patrons, who have been flooding into the club the last hour or so. The band is due to play at ten, in another half hour.
When the song draws to a close, I force my way back to Noah, who’s still sitting at our table, bouncing his leg. “Almost time for the band,” I say loudly.
“I know,” he replies. “What are they called again?”
“‘Flying Rabbits’ or ‘Flying Ravens’ or something,” I venture. “I don’t remember.”
He nods and grins. “It’s a marvel that anyone can be as forgetful as you are.”
“Easy. You just need to have more important things on your mind than some student band’s gig,” I counter, sticking my tongue out.
“And what would these things be?” he asks.
“Uh … ” I stammer, because I didn’t think he’d ask, even though I should have expected him to. My brother is one hell of an inquisitive guy. In other words: he’s totally nosy. He probes and prods into everything you might say.
“I knew it,” he says triumphantly, before taking a sip of his beer.
“You are aware of the fact that you’re the designated driver, right?” I ask with a raised eyebrow. Normally Noah only drinks if we’ve agreed that I’ll drive home.
“But I have you here with me.” He smiles innocently.
I roll my eyes. “I should have gone out with Pearl and Cay,” I murmur. Cay—whose real name is Carmen—and Pearl are my best friends, even though at times they do stuff that makes my blood curdle.
“You still hang out with Pearl?” Noah asks, sounding incredulous.
“Yes. I like her, and we get along well. Why shouldn’t I hang out with her?”
“Uh, I just think Mom and Dad would wish for a different type of … friend for you,” Noah explains with a shrug. “She’s really slutty, I think. Completely different from you, you know?”
I answer with a shrug of my own. “It’s easy to say that when you don’t know her. Behind her made-up exterior, she’s really a very compassionate person.”
“Is that so?”
I nod. “It is, but I’m not going to tell you the secrets my friends have entrusted me with.”
“You’re friends with the two most notorious characters on campus … but that’s your decision.”
“Noah, I like both of them, okay? And I also like the other girls in their circle of friends. They’re not half as bad as you make them sound. Granted, it wasn’t cool when Pearl caused that scene with her ex’s girlfriend, but you gotta concede that she was really hurt.”
“Yeah, good reason to sneak into your daddy’s office and start some barely legal shenanigans on his computer,” Noah comments dryly. “I just don’t want you to be dragged into anything that’ll require the help of a lawyer, okay? You know Mom and Dad wouldn’t be happy about that, Shai.”
“She went too far with that, and we all told her so. What counts is that Avery and the girl are still together, so you can forget all about that,” I say, annoyed now. I don’t like Noah dissecting my friendships.
“Cay is another basket case,” he decides. “She and Pearl are really not the best people to hang with.”
Why does he keep saying that? “What are you? My big brother?” I say, half amused and half irritated by his worrying.
“I guess you could say that.” He grins. “Which is why I’m allowed to interfere and throw my weight around.”
I have to smirk at his cheekiness, but I shake my head. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Unbelievably caring, affectionate, nice, friendly, self-sacrificing, and so on. I know.”
“I’m going to get another Coke,” I announce, because it’s time I took a break from this conversation.
“Your glass is still full,” he points out.
I pick it up and drain it quickly. “Not anymore,” I say with a sugary smile, before disappearing in the crowd. As I make my way to the bar, I marvel at how quickly the place has filled up. It’s as busy as a Toys “R” Us on Black Friday. I should know—I used to work there part-time, eternally scared that the customers were about to kill me as I went to fetch new gaming consoles from the inventory in the back. God, I’m glad that job is over and done with! Not that it wasn’t fun, at least theoretically, but mainly it was exhausting. You had to stay friendly, even when stressed-out customers started yelling and swearing at you. “Stupid cow” was among the more friendly epithets directed at me. If I go to hell after I die, I fully expect it to look like the Toys “R” Us Megastore on Black Friday. I’ll have to spend eternity listening to grumpy, frustrated sinners, though I suspect there are friendly sinners in hell, too.
When I finally reach the bar, I try to catch the bartender’s attention, waving at him several times.
“Can I get six beers and four Cokes, Chuck?” I suddenly hear from right behind me.
I freeze. After all these years, I can still recognize Nathaniel’s voice.
Fuck, he’s here, I think, my brain instantly thrown into alarm mode, even though I’m positive he won’t recognize me. He’s crossed my path a few times on campus, and nothing happened, so it won’t happen tonight either. I hope.
“One second, Nate,” the bartender says.
I keep my eyes on the bar and notice Nate’s hand leaning against the edge. I’d recognize the long scar on the back of his hand anywhere. He got it when he hit a window in high school, out of his mind with anger. The windowpane smashed and cut his hand. And the reason for the anger? An argument he’d had with one of my former friends.
“Could I get a Coke, too?” I call in a loud voice so Chuck can’t keep ignoring me. “The young man here cut in line, so it would be nice if I could get my drink as well,” I add with a frozen smile.
“In a second, honey,” Chuck says with a wink.
“I cut the line?” It’s Nate again, beside me now. “Sorry, but I thought you were just standing here, since you weren’t calling for Chuck.”
Finally, I raise my eyes to look at him and nod. “You did, but it’s okay because he’s getting me my Coke now, too.
The corner of Nathaniel’s mouth travels slowly upward. I remember this half smile, an expression he’d already mastered by the time we met. And it still has the same devastating effect on me. My knees go weak, and I start to melt inside.
I avert my eyes and force out, “Not a problem.”
He holds out his hand, and I notice the leather bracelet on his wrist.
I can hardly believe it. He’s wearing it. The bracelet I gave him for his sixteenth birthday.
“My name’s Nathaniel, by the way.”
I know. I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “Nice to meet you,” I say instead.
“Will you tell me your name?”
I knew it. Six years, and he doesn’t recognize me. I shake my head as an answer. Amazing what cutting and dyeing your hair can achieve, my brain comments in a detached manner. I used to have black hair, and I wore it very long. At eighteen, I bleached it blond, and at twenty, because it was too much of a hassle, I cut it all the way to my chin. Now all I need to do in the morning is blow-dry it with my head bent forward, then throw my head back, and bam—it falls into place.
“Why not?” Nate asks as Chuck places our drinks on the counter two by two.
“There’s no point, since we’ll never see each other again.” I smile.
“Ouch,” he hisses, before offering me a grin. “Who knows? Maybe we will.”
“Then you’ll have to ask me a second time.” I smirk, pay for my Coke, and turn away quickly. Walking back to my brother’s table, I take a detour, just in case Nathaniel is following me.
Unfortunately, Noah hasn’t changed at all since high school—apart from the stubble and a few added inches in height—and of course Nathaniel spots him. After I’ve woven my way through the throng of guests and almost reached our table again, I see Nate standing with Noah, his back to me. They’re talking, and I hope my brother will see me, which he does, acknowledging me with a grin. I motion for him not to say anything about me, and to make absolutely sure, I also send him a text—I can type these things in record time.