by Pamela Ann
I wanted to growl at him to leave me alone and go back to Joanna, but even that, I couldn’t do, because I couldn’t look at him. I just couldn’t. I didn’t trust myself enough.
“It’s fine. There’s no need for that.”
“Please, don’t argue with me. If you’re walking home this late, I need to make sure you’re going to get there safe.”
Fuck. Okay, whatever. He could follow me or go back into the house to fuck Joanna, whatever. I didn’t care about any of it.
Fast pacing, I tried to freeze him out by not speaking to him. Although he probably could guess where my thoughts were going, he didn’t have the decency to put any of them to rest or to even openly say it without me having to question him. Somehow, it made me madder, too. After all, let’s face it, it had merely been a couple of hours before when he had said he was waiting for me to come around. He certainly didn’t take time to let things be; he just kept rolling as if nothing mattered. Maybe it didn’t—maybe I didn’t matter that much if he could jump from one woman to the next.
Once we reached the house, something inside of me snapped. “I hate you!” I declared, full of loathing, full of vengeance. “I’m going to try until it happens. I don’t care anymore.”
“I know you will,” he said, boring his eyes into me.
His reaction got me even more heated.
“Good, because I will never pine for you the way I did. I’ll be over you in a heartbeat. Watch me do it. I’m done! I’m just fucking done!”
“Well, it looks like you’re doing a fine job of getting on without me,” he said with a lot of underlying barb.
“By the looks of it, so are you.”
He shrugged, looking away, as if he was done talking to me.
“I better head back, or they might send out a search party. Have a goodnight, Amber.” He gave me one last look before he spun on his heels and started retracing his steps.
“Did you fuck her?” I shot my question out loud enough for him to hear me succinctly.
He stopped walking, taking a moment to let the question sink in before deciding to face me.
“Tell me what you want to hear, and I’ll say it,” he murmured. “If my answer will help you find whatever it is you’re searching for, then tell me what to say to you.”
His nonchalant demeanor was grating on me.
“I want the truth,” I growled back vehemently. “Did you fuck Joanna in your bedroom? Is that why she’s wearing your shirt?” Saying those words out loud made it even worse. God help me, because no Valium could numb me from the pain that was rioting through my body.
He suddenly seemed serious, pondering as he pressed his lips together, deciding how to respond to my question most likely.
“She wanted to…” he delicately murmured before adding, “She tried to seduce me into it.”
His answer wasn’t what I was looking for. He knew it, too, so why was he dancing about the damn subject?
“But did you?” I paused, inhaling deeply. “Did you do it?”
“Stop crying, please. Just go inside.”
Shit. I wasn’t even aware I was crying.
“I can’t stop.” It was the truth. Once I knew I was shedding buckets, there was no going back. All these pent up emotions needed an outlet, and quite frankly, it seemed as though tears were the only solution. “How could you fuck her, knowing I was downstairs?” Okay, that wasn’t entirely true, but whatever, I was crying, dammit.
Apologetic, he strolled towards me then chose to stand before my crying state. “I honest to God didn’t know you’d be there. After how we left things, I wasn’t sure you were going to be, because I thought you left and never planned to come back.”
His stupid answer, the way he was skirting around it, made me bawl even harder. I kid you not, it was harder to put a sad halt to this conundrum. Therefore, I kept crying like a wailing baby in the manger or, as people referred to it these days, having an “ugly cry.” Yep, this was me. Pathetic, ol’ me.
“Amber…” he said, trying to get my attention as he cupped my face before leaving a soft kiss on my forehead. Then he proceeded to seek my eyes, my tear-filled gaze. “I didn’t do anything with Joanna.”
Not even his answer did anything to cure this damn thing. It was like a disease; it kept on going.
“Why not? What stopped you?” I asked in between hiccups.
“Because I gave you my word that I won’t hurt you, so I’ll wait … until you’re over me before I really move on.”
This was all too much. He was just too much.
“Why would you sacrifice so much for me? I’m not worthy of it.” I had been pushing him away, and in a sense, he was still respecting me. It was odd and unheard of.
“Say whatever you like, but in my eyes, you’re worth everything.”
I shook my head, not believing that particular lie.
“Lindsey is your everything,” I said, knowing too well how much he loved her.
“I love her, but in a sense, I have accepted that she’s moved on, and I’m actually looking forward to the next chapter in my life,” he said cautiously before continuing, “and I want you in this new chapter, Amber. I know what you’re thinking, and that’s why I have been patient—sometimes—about waiting for you, because I know it might take some time for you to believe me. But you have to understand, it’s been over six months since Lindsey. She’s always going to mean something to me, but she’s the past, and I feel as though you’re my future. I might not be making sense, but it took me quite a long time to get here, so please, give me a chance to prove things to you. I’ve always cared for you. You were always in the back of my mind, yet I never pursued it until recently, and that’s when things started to make sense.
“Lindsey is the past—our past. I don’t want you to feel threatened by my past relationship with her, because that is over and done with. Things with you are different. I’m more relaxed, protective in a sense that’s scary sometimes. I have never felt this about anyone, but you kept pushing me away, leaving me doubting my chances with you. I want to protect you. I want to take care of you. You have to let me love you.”
Love, that elusive word again.
If it were any other man, I would jump into this in a heartbeat, but this was Brody. If I let him in the way he wanted, it might shatter me in more ways than were imaginable. It was as if I would be giving someone all the power to hurt me, and quite frankly, it was petrifying to think that one person in the world could have such an effect on anyone. I had so many issues, but I knew I needed him, too.
“If I do let you in again, you promise to take care of my heart this time?”
“I’ll protect it for as long as I live,” he swore before reaching for my lips, gently kissing me. “I love you. I know it’s been confusing, but my actions have been quite obvious. I just didn’t want to scare you away by telling you how I feel. I had to let you come to terms with things first … and I’m sorry for telling you now. It seems like you’re not taking it well, but I can’t hold it in anymore, Amber. I love you. I’m in love with you, and I want everyone to know.”
Shaking my head in protest, I felt dizzy from hearing his declaration. “You must be crazy. How can you love me? This is insane. I can’t—it’s just not possible.”
“Then let me prove you wrong.”
Could I? Could I do it again? Could I love him to no end, yet this time we would officially be dating and looking forward to our future? Was that even possible?
It was.
I merely had to say yes, and I would have him … for as long as I could.
“I love you. That’s all I know.” How true that statement was. It was all I had ever known.
Maybe my fate would always be with him, so why should I keep denying our hearts’ wishes? I was done for. Fighting off my love for him was pointless, so I was better off letting it be, letting it flourish the way life intended it to be.
And it would be that way.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
It had only been a week since we had told all of our friends that we were officially together. And tonight, we were heading to Malibu for Emma and Bass’s baby shower.
Was I nervous? No. Fuck no. I had wanted to be with her for quite some time, and for her to finally give in … Well, that was the best feeling a guy could ask for.
I got what she was afraid of, most especially the shadow of my relationship with Lindsey. But she had to understand that my grieving period was over and done with, and it had more to do with holding on to something my mind had been accustomed to all these years. It didn’t necessarily mean Lindsey and I were compatible. Let’s face it, she and I were opposites, even if it took me a long time to finally realize that.
However, the moment I did, I saw Amber in a different light. All these years, this chick, no matter the situation, was always there, consistently, persistently. When I was feeling down and shitty, she never failed to tell me how much I meant to her, how much she loved me, even though she thought I was stupid. For years, it became a habit, hearing her say those three magical words that never failed to make me feel like a king. I didn’t realize how magical they were until she stopped saying them. Then I knew I was in trouble because it seemed that the harder I tried to win her affection back, the more she pushed me away.
There was no win-win with her. I knew it was bad to use sex, but it was the only way I knew how to make her connect with me. Her body always gave in. It was the only thing I had, so I manipulated that. Of course, I confessed all these deeds to her and knew I had so much to make up for. Trust me, I was looking forward to so much “making up” with her.
I loved her simplicity and quiet elegance. I loved her golden eyes and drop-dead, gorgeous smile. Amber was the quiet strength behind my sanity. It took me so fucking long to know how much she contributed to my life, and there was no way in hell I was going to let her go. She and I were stuck together, for better or for worse. She was going to have me on a silver platter.
Smiling as I took her hand while the other gripped the steering wheel, I knew we were moving in the right direction. I had never been so content and happy with my life. I knew this was it. She was it.
I hoped it wouldn’t come out as a shock, but I did intend to ask her later this week to move in with me. Everything was set in my mind, and I hoped she wouldn’t feel as though I was moving too fast. There was no way I could do this other than fast, though. Come to think of it, who liked doing things slow, anyway?
We would scout for a place to live while she finished up her senior year and I began training camp in LA. It wasn’t the ideal solution, but it was the best shot we had to make it work.
After the past we had both had, I needed her to be reassured that I wasn’t going anywhere. She had loved me through the years, so I could do the same for her—love and nurture her the way she was supposed to be. No man would ever hurt her again. Not her father or any other guy. I was going to protect her until death.
My protectiveness over her should have been one of the first indicators for my feelings for her, but hey, at least I had finally gotten to where I needed to be.
For the first time in a very long time, I was excited about what the cards had in store for me. With the right woman next to me, I knew I could take on whatever challenges came my way.
~Amber & Brody~
More coming from The Torn Series Crew…
Damaged (Carter Mason)
Undeniably Us (Bass Cole) (Final Novel)
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More books by Pamela Ann
The Torn Series Order:
Scornfully Yours
Scornfully Hers
Frayed
Blasphemous
Undeniably Yours
Scorned
Fixated On You
Christmas With You
Unveiled
Crushed 2015
Damaged 2015
The Chasing Series:
Chasing Beautiful
Chasing Imperfection
Chasing Paradise
Chasing Forever (Lucy & Toby)
Chasing Mrs. Knightly: Epilogue
Lily’s Mistake
Loving Drake
Loving Lily
British Billionaires Series:
Falling For My Husband (Callum & Stella)
Falling For Ava (Reiss & Ava)
Falling For The Enemy (Sebastian & Allie)
Formula Men Series:
Monza Luca di Medici
Nice Jacques Bertrand TBA
Barcelona Andrès Franco TBA
Pieces: A Duet:
Pieces of You & Me
Pieces Of Us
Havoc (Dark Erotica)
The Encounter Trilogy
Bartered
Unleashed
Vanquished
*** Upcoming Stand-Alone Novels ***
My Summer in London Coming 2015
The Woman in The Closet
The Nut Job
For more about Pamela Ann and her upcoming releases, follow her through Facebook, Twitter and her blog.
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London exchange student Serena didn’t expect to be attracted to the host’s sons, the daredevil Archer and the sizzling hotter than thou Cruz Elliot. Not only was Cruz the hottest thing Serena had ever set her eyes upon, but he was also about to be engaged.
Stuck between the intense pull of temptation and doing the right thing, she decided to ignore her feelings, merely leading her on a tumultuous ride of emotions.
My Summer in London
Pamela Ann
My Summer in London
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review.
Copyright © 2015 by Pamela Ann
All rights reserved.
www.PamelaAnnBooks.com
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“The heart that truly loves never forgets.”
- Proverbs
Chapter One
“Miss Serena?” The butler with his bushy yet well-kept eyebrows eyed me with hesitation. “Miss Serena Woods?” he reiterated.
Making a slight smile, I nodded towards him. “Yes, that’s me,” I whispered timidly.
His less than warm approach made me feel somehow intimidated. I was sure he could sense that about me. Nervously, I cleared my throat, arching my back a little as I fixed my posture. “Is this the home of Mrs. Margery Elliot?”
“That it is, young lady,” he uttered in a deep, timbered voice before snapping his fingers.
In the blink of an eye, a mi
ddle-aged woman appeared to fetch my measly luggage before the standoffish butler opened the door wider, silently inviting me inside.
There was no doubt in my mind that I was out of my depth as I noted my surroundings with immense awe. I’d had no clue Mom had such prominent connections, yet there I was, an exchange student in London for a whole year.
My parents had a decent amount of income, but nothing of this magnitude. Apparently, my mother had once been a neighbor to a woman who married some wealthy Brit, one who had some serious health issues and only recently passed away after a serious battle with liver damage for over twenty-five years. Upon receiving the devastating news, my mother was concerned for her friend, and in the span of a week, she had concocted an ingenious idea. Well, according to her.
I wasn’t all that excited when she suggested I study abroad after my devastating break up with Aaron, my boyfriend of four years. Daunted by my failed relationship and a gnawing need for space, I had succumbed to my mother’s insistence, resulting in my present location in London. Chelsea, to be precise.
