by Amy Brent
“Why? You don’t want to be that couple?” I asked as I held her hand.
“I just don’t see what’s so special about it. We didn’t celebrate three, or six.”
“We did too celebrate six. I took you to Bora Bora.”
“That was six months?” she asked.
“Nice to know you’re paying attention,” I said with a grin.
“Hey, I’m good with numbers, not dates.”
I chuckled as I drove us through town, making our way to dinner. She thought we were celebrating some trivial anniversary, but she had another thing coming.
I took her to dinner at a new French cuisine restaurant that had opened in the middle of town. We had an eight-course meal, complete with all the traditional French delicacies. I fed Kylie her first-ever escargot and laughed as she wrinkled her nose at the decadent snail. I loved how she was always up to try anything once.
It made our sex life very interesting.
After dinner, I escorted her to the car and opened her door. I helped her get in and then watched confusion waft over her face as I took off. She knew I was taking her farther away from the city—farther away from her apartment and my home.
“Where are we going?” Kylie asked.
“You’ll see. I figured we could do something special to work down our dinner.”
“I told you, Ryan. The one thing I don’t want to try is sex outside.”
“Nothing like that,” I said with a grin. “I’d never make you do something you don’t want to do. You know that.”
I traced my thumb along her soft skin as we drove to the outskirts of Portland. I drove us all the way to the edges of the national forest before I parked my car. Then I rolled down the top of my newly purchased convertible and laid our seats back.
“Oh my gosh,” Kylie said. “Ryan, look. The stars.”
“They’re out thick tonight since there’s no moon,” I said.
Her eyes twinkled with the night sky, and I stuck my hand into my pocket.
“Kylie?” I asked.
“Yeah?”
“I need to tell you something.”
Her eyes meandered over to mine before she sat up in her seat. I got out of the car and came around to her, then helped her up from her seat. I fiddled with the small box in my pocket as nerves took over again. No matter how much I was around Kylie, she always manage to make me nervous. She always manage to reduce the confident businessman I had molded myself to be into a hectic mess of panic.
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
“Of course,” I said. “But there are so many things I want to say to you.”
“Then say them, Ryan. You know you can always talk to me.”
“I know,” I said as I cupped her cheek. “And that’s one of the many reasons I love you. Not only are you intelligent and independent and feisty, but you're beautiful and compassionate and understanding. You bring about a happiness in my life I only thought was found in movies or between the pages of cheesy little love stories.”
“I didn’t know you read those,” she said with a grin.
“There’s a lot you don't know about me, and there’s plenty I don’t know about you. But if you give me the chance, Kylie Baker, I’d like to spend the rest of my life getting to know you.”
I pulled out the ring box and slipped down to my knee as Kylie gasped.
“Oh my gosh,” she said as I opened the box. “Oh…oh my gosh.”
“Kylie, there are no words to describe how I feel about you. No words to explain the warmth and happiness you bring to my world. I don’t want another second to go by without you knowing that I’ll always be here. I’ll always stand at your side, guiding you and supporting you and protecting you.”
“Oh, Ryan,” she said as tears rushed to her eyes.
“Kylie, will you marry me?”
She squealed and dropped her body onto mine. I stood us up, wrapping my arms around her as she smiled into my neck. She jumped and bounced around, joy overflowing her beautiful form before she pulled away. I picked up her left hand and inched the ring onto her finger, watching as her head nodded as fast as it could go.
“Yes,” she said. “Yes, yes, yes. A thousand times over, yes.”
Hearing that one word drip from her lips even misted my eyes over a little.
“I spoke with Adam a few days ago,” I said as I cupped her hand. “He’s on board with all of this. He gave his blessing, and I knew then and there that I couldn't wait a second longer.”
“He’s okay with this?” she asked breathlessly.
“He is. He actually asked me if he could walk you down the aisle, but I told him he’d have to talk to you.”
She was speechless, and I drew her into my body. I placed my chin on top of her head and swayed her side to side. Her small arms wrapped around me, holding me in her loving embrace. I dropped my arm around her waist and took one of her hands in mine, and soon the two of us were dancing to our own music underneath the stars of Oregon.
“Could we have a smaller wedding?” Kylie asked.
My eyes fell to hers, taking in her excited stare as she looked up at me.
“Whatever you want,” I said.
“So we could have it outside?”
I grinned as my eyes took in the reflection of the stars in hers.
“Whatever you want,” I said again.
“Because I was thinking we could have this cute little outside wedding with maybe fifty or so people, and an archway of hanging flowers. Maybe on a sunny day. Or a nice fall day when all the leaves are changing. We could have rich colors for our wedding, like orange and yellow and red for fall or yellow and green and blue for summer.”
“You sound like you’ve been thinking about this.”
She shrugged, and I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her back to my chest.
“I love that you’ve been thinking about it like I have,” I said.
I continued swaying us underneath the stars as the wind kicked up. Kylie shivered against me, so I slipped my coat off, then draped it around her shoulders. I crooked my finger underneath her chin and raised her gaze to mine, taking in the beauty of the woman standing in front of me.
“The first thing I want to discuss is this apartment of yours,” I said. “Your lease is up in three months.”
“It is,” she said.
“So, what would you say to moving in with me?”
A smile blossomed across her cheeks as she rose up to capture my lips.
“I think that’s a great place to start,” she said.
“Then get ready for so many more breakfasts in bed.”
“You know we never actually eat breakfast in bed,” she said as I scooped her close to my body.
“Trust me, I know. And to let you in on a little secret, that’s always my plan.”
She giggled before I plunged my tongue into her mouth, pressing her against the door of my convertible and tasting the dinner that still lingered against her cheeks. I held the entirety of my world in the palms of my hands. I held my future tightly against my chest. There wasn’t a woman in the world for me who was as perfect as the one I had pressed against my car, and there wouldn't be a day that went by that Kylie wouldn’t feel loved by me, even at our worst times.
“I love you,” she said.
I pulled back and watched her eyes dance around my face.
“I love you, too, Kylie, until the day I pass from this earth.”
***The End***
Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed Ryan and Kylie’s story.
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My Best Friend’s Ex (Sneak Peek)
Description
Connor Calloway was forbidden.
Rockstar. Bad boy. Heartbreaker.
My best friend’s ex.
Signing on as the headliner for his band was our chance,
We could make it big, if I could just resist temptation.
I could stay away, keep my distance,
It would be easy, I told myself.
Boy, was I wrong. Dead wrong.
That black hair, those deep blue eyes,
His perfect a** and charming smile.
The way he looked at me backstage,
Full of hunger and lust.
Like he wanted to pin me down right there,
And f*ck me all night long.
No, I couldn’t do it,
Betray my best friend like that.
But then I did what was so wrong, but felt so right.
Now, I have to face the music,
And the biggest dilemma of my life.
How am I going to tell everyone the truth?
That I’m pregnant with my best friend’s ex...
Chapter 1
Alice
The melancholy melody crooning from Sam’s guitar washed over me. Casey laid out a beat that was deep and tribal, the bass drum reverberating in my chest in three-four time. It was a slow, sweet, chugging rhythm that swept me up in its moodiness as Tyler joined in on the bass guitar. The low notes grounded the song while Sam’s masterful licks drew it higher and higher.
Together, they took the music and wound it tight, like a rubber band stretched until it was just about to break. The tension became almost too much, pushing me toward an unknown edge as I held my breath.
The tension burst on a climax of sound, all of it blending so seamlessly together that I couldn’t tell one instrument from the other. All that was left was pure, heart-wrenching beauty. I still couldn’t breathe, and my lungs were starting to ache just as the musicians hit the same intense chord before letting it fall away into silence.
I stepped into that silence, leaning into the microphone standing in front of me, and everything vanished. The small crowd staring up at me, the nerves that had danced along my skin, the painful memories of the past and worry about the future—everything disappeared except the melody still echoing in my ears and the lyrics I’d written.
I opened my mouth and the words fell out like a spell as I sang, entrapping not just the people watching and my bandmates, but me too. I let my eyelids slide shut, blocking out the blinding spotlights and the sight of the people staring up at me. It was just me and the music.
This was what I loved more than anything else, that moment when I could lose myself in the song and nothing else existed. That one pure moment of total freedom. It drove me on to keep writing music and performing despite the nervous flutter of stage fright that had me shaking nearly every time I got up onstage.
When I started singing, though, everything changed. Every bit of fear fled and what was left was ecstasy, a rush like a drug flooding my veins and filling my ears. My voice rose on a wave of sound, filling the small venue as I belted out the last few lines.
There was thick silence for a moment before the sharp applause washed over me, drawing me back from the edge, and I blinked open my eyes as if waking from a dream. It took me a few minutes to unclench my hands from the mic and let them drop numbly to my side as I took a step back.
A quick glance around the coffee shop showed a good-sized crowd. I sent a tight smile at a few familiar faces but still felt a flutter of panic. It was much less intimidating than the bigger venues we’d been playing lately, though. Besides, this place felt almost like a second home to me.
Lunar Café was a staple in the Seattle coffee scene. This place had been around for almost twenty years before Mickey, the current owner, took over, and he’d run it successfully ever since even though he was now well into his sixties. Mickey had given us our first break right here on this small, intimate stage nearly five years before.
Hell, it was even where we’d gotten our band’s name, Moon. We’d come a long way since playing coffee shops and local dive bars. We had steadily gained traction, especially over the last year. But whenever Mickey asked us to play, we obliged. He’d given us a chance when no one else had. I loved the surly old man for that.
“Hey, Alice, you killed it.”
I turned as Sam came over and draped an arm around my shoulder, squeezing me in a brotherly hug. I smiled up at him, taking instant comfort as I scanned his familiar features.
“You think so?”
“Of course.”
“Really?”
“Ha, you’re just looking for flattery now,” Sam said, shooting me a lopsided smirk.
I shrugged, matching him grin for grin, “So?”
“You know you knocked it out of the park. No one has a voice like yours, like an angel from heaven or a siren or a—”
“Okay, all right, I get it. Enough already,” I said with a laugh, giving him a good-natured shove.
“Or like a bat,” he said, continuing anyway.
“A bat?”
“Yeah, a bat. You know, there are some species that sing so their mate can find them in the dark.”
I paused and gave Sam a sidelong look. “That’s actually kind of beautiful. Weird, but beautiful.”
“Just like me.” He grinned.
“Well, you’ve got the weird part right,” Casey said, chiming in as he packed away his drum kit. “But beautiful is a bit of a stretch.”
“Hey now,” Sam said, shooting the drummer an exaggerated glare. “Don’t be mean. I am a gorgeous male specimen. Right, Alice? You think I’m beautiful, don’t you?”
I tilted my head to one side as I pretended to examine him. I didn’t need to. I knew his face by heart. I had met Sam Weis when I was twelve years old. He’d been a year older than me. We’d both been placed in the same temporary foster home. By that time, I had the system down pat. I knew it inside and out, having been shuffled from shelter to foster home and back again. But that was right after Sam’s parents had died in a tragic house fire and he’d been all alone. That was, until he met me.
I had taken him under my wing, shown him the ropes, and we’d been basically inseparable ever since. My gaze flicked over his unruly mop of chestnut brown curls, the soulful dark eyes under slashing brows, and the dimple that appeared on his right cheek whenever he grinned, which was often.
He was all cocky, sarcastic confidence on the outside, but all anyone had to do was look at his eyes to know he was a wounded soul. Every woman in the greater Seattle area seemed to sense it too, and they all thought they could heal him, or they at least wanted to try.
I’d seen more than a handful of women make a fool of themselves over Sam’s eyes. They were especially deadly when paired with his striking good looks. When I looked at him, though, I still saw that small, scared little boy. He was like a little brother to me even though he was a year older—an oftentimes irritating little brother, but I loved him just the same.
“Sure, Sam. You’re beautiful on the inside at least,” I said with a smirk. It was true though. He would have done anything for anyone he cared about. He was the most loyal, trustworthy guy I knew. Not that there had been many of those in my life.
“Ooooh, burn,” Casey crowed, earning an elbow to the ribs from Sam. “Guess you’re not as good looking as you think you are.”
“Shut up, both of you. Don’t we have a stage to break down?” Sam turned away to start packing up his guitar, unplugging amps as he went, and I shot a conspiratorial grin at Casey. His green eyes were dancing with laughter, and the way he held himself shouted of a calm, good-natured confidence, at least until you looked closer. Then you could see the tension that he held just beneath the surface.
He was every bit as handsome as Sam, but in a different way. His fea
tures were sharper. He was more muscular where Sam had the physique of a swimmer, all broad shoulders and lean lines. Casey’s dirty blond hair was long, falling almost to his collarbone when he wore it down. Now, it was pulled back by a leather tie even though a few pieces had fallen out during the set.
As the drummer of Moon, I’d known him almost as long as Sam. We’d all become friends at the same high school we’d gone to together. Casey’s dad was an alcoholic, and Sam and I had been shuffled off to yet another foster home. None of us had fit in anywhere. We’d been misfits, outcasts. But together, we had created our own small, tightknit family. Or at least the closest thing to a family I’d ever known.
The only one missing from our little crew that night was Lori. I felt a pang of guilt at the thought of her. Lori Thomas had been the stereotypical captain of the cheerleaders in high school: blond, perky, outgoing, and popular. I’d hated her at first sight, but for some reason, she’d been determined to make friends with us.
I hadn’t understood it at first, but I hadn’t understood her either. It had taken months to realize that, in her own way, Lori was just as broken as the rest of us. She’d been under constant pressure from her society parents to be the perfect daughter, the perfect student, the perfect everything. Really, underneath it all, Lori had just wanted freedom, just like the rest of us.
After sophomore year of high school, the four of us had been inseparable, and despite our differences, Lori and I had ended up becoming best friends. Now she was a nationally renowned photographer on the music scene.
“Hey, Casey, you see my case anywhere?”
The deep voice drew my attention back to the stage where everyone else was almost finished breaking down. Tyler had asked the question, tossing it at the drummer, who just shrugged, shaking his head.
Tyler Lewis was the newest addition to the band. He had joined us just a year and a half ago. He had auditioned to be our new bassist, and out of everyone we’d seen, he had been by far the most talented. He was also the quietist.
