One Night

by Allie Everhart

  "Don't you need to be backstage?"

  "We've got a couple minutes. You nervous?"

  "A little, but I'll be fine."

  He leans over and whispers in my ear, "I love you."

  "I love you too." I kiss him, then back away and notice girls watching us, jealousy in their eyes. I'm still not used to all the attention he gets from girls. And it happens everywhere we go. Girls are always going up to him, flirting with him.

  "I've gotta go." Dylan gets up. "I'll see you after the show."

  He leaves, and a few minutes later, the guys appear on stage, girls screaming their names. Hearing girls yell for Dylan should make me jealous, and it used to, but now it doesn't because I know he's mine.

  The guys play their regular set, saving Dylan's songs for last. Girls are screaming One Night, begging the band to play it, and when I hear the first notes, I get so nervous I feel like I might be sick. But then I see Dylan looking at me with those big brown eyes and I start to relax. Soon I get lost in the song, lost in the sound of his voice, and it isn't until the very end that I notice people staring at me.

  Do they know? Do they know I'm the girl in the song? I can't tell. Some of them look like they know but others seem unsure.

  I glance away from them and look back at the stage when I hear Dylan's voice through the speakers.

  "We've got a surprise for you guys tonight," he says to the crowd. "It's a new song I wrote called One Week. It's a follow up to One Night. I hope you like it."

  He plays the first notes and everyone quiets down. The lyrics describe how a letter showed up at his doorstep. How he knew it was from me before he even opened it. The song continues, describing that first week we were together, and the feelings we had when we saw each other again. The music is slow but has a lighter, more hopeful sound than One Night, which was dark and moody.

  The chorus plays and I hear the girls next to me quietly humming along because the chorus is similar to One Night, which Dylan intentionally did to link the two songs together.

  Dylan's eyes are on me as he sings the chorus. One week. I was with her. One week. Couldn't get enough of her. One week. And she was mine. One week. I have her back.

  He looks out at the crowd as the song continues, glancing at me during certain parts.

  At the very end, he focuses solely on me and walks off the stage to where I'm sitting.

  One week, he sings, and I have her back. He stands in front of me and takes my hand as he sings the last line, I have her back.

  He pulls me up from my chair and kisses me and the crowd goes crazy, clapping and whistling and yelling, "That's her!"

  Our secret is out. Everyone knows Dylan and I shared a night together.

  One night. A night we would never forget, and that we never thought would be anything more.

  One night. That's all it was supposed to be.

  One night. And yet it changed our lives.

  One night. The night I met my prince.

  One night. The start of my forever.

  From the Author

  Thanks for reading One Night! If you enjoyed it, please tell a friend and leave a review!

  If you want to know how Austin and Kira met, you can read their story in More to Us, available now! More to Us is a standalone and book four of the Wheeler Brothers, a series of standalone romances, each featuring a different brother.

  Get the latest news about upcoming books as well as sneak peeks and bonus scenes by signing up for my newsletter. It's FREE!

  Find me online at allieeverhart.com, Facebook, Twitter and Instagram.

  ***

  Do you like romance mixed with mystery and suspense? Check out the Jade Series! It's a story of forbidden romance. Deadly secrets. Hidden agendas. And rules that must never be broken.

  Choosing You (book one)

  When Jade is given a scholarship to an elite private college in Connecticut, she sees it as a chance to finally escape her painful past and get a fresh start. She's determined to succeed and that means keeping her focus on school and not guys. But that plan falls apart her first day on campus when Garret, a wealthy prep school boy with swimmer abs and a perfect smile, offers to help her move in.

  Jade tries to push him away but she can't deny her attraction to him and Garret won't let her. Things quickly heat up between them, but then come to a sudden halt when reality hits and Jade realizes that a relationship with Garret may never be possible. He comes from a world of wealth where there are rules, including rules about who he can date. And not following those rules has consequences.

  As the two of them try to overcome the obstacles working to keep them apart, Jade is confronted with another challenge. On her 19th birthday, she receives a letter that her now deceased mother wrote years ago. In it are revelations that explain her traumatic childhood but also make her question the past she's been running from.

  Here's Chapter One.

  October 30

  The lines on the track are like a map telling me where to go. I follow their orderly path, my arms and legs moving in a rhythmic pattern. My body repeats the motion effortlessly, leaving my mind to replay what just happened.

  I see a girl at a party. She's drinking. She never drinks. Ever. But there were no other options. It was history repeating itself. Like the script had already been written and she just had to let the scene play out. For 18 years, she promised herself this would never happen. And then it did. She lost all control within a matter of seconds.

  That girl was someone else. I will never be her. And I will never be her mother. I refuse.

  My legs take longer, quicker strides as I become aware of my body again. I pump my arms because I'm not going fast enough. I still feel all of it. The confusion. The rage. The pain. And I just want it to go away.

  The cold night air clings to my skin, cooling the sweat and sending an icy chill through me. My arms and legs ache and my lungs burn from inhaling the frigid air. But I keep going. Because I like feeling this pain. I understand it. And it keeps my mind off the pain that I can't understand.

  A drop of rain hits my face. Then two, then three. Soon rain pours from the sky, stinging my skin.

  "Jade, what the hell are you doing out here? I've been looking everywhere for you! Jade!"

  It's Garret, the boy who made the girl live out that scene at the party. The scene that was never supposed to happen.

  My eyes remain on the lines in front of me and I run past him like he's not even there.

  "Jade, stop! Wait!"

  I make another loop around the track as he continues to call out my name. As I approach him again, he moves into my lane and I veer to avoid him.

  There's a sharp tug on the back of my shirt and I stumble forward to a stop. I'm gasping for breath as Garret turns me around and holds me against him so tight I can't move despite my efforts to break free.

  "Stop." He says it quietly now as he presses my head against his chest. "Just stop running."

  I give up trying to fight him and let my body collapse into his.

  A minute ago I never wanted to see him again, but now I don't want him to let me go.

  "Tell me what's wrong," he says. "If it's something I did, I'm sorry. I'll fix it."

  The cold rain continues to pour down in a steady stream. My shorts and shirt feel heavy against my skin and I shiver as the wind blows around us.

  He runs his hand along my arm. "What are you doing out here? It's freezing and you're soaking wet. Let's go inside."

  My legs aren't ready to move. My entire body is aching, leaving my emotions numb, just the way I want them.

  "Jade, talk to me."

  I look up and see him watching me, waiting for some kind of answer. Before he can speak again, I reach up and press my lips to his. I shouldn't be kissing him so I don't understand why I'm doing this. But I don't understand anything right now.

  Garret gently pulls away. "Tell me what's going on. Why are you out here? Why were you at the party? And why were you drinking?" His voice is fi
lled with so much worry and so much concern. After seeing him at the party I don't know why he even cares. But I know he does. I can feel it and I can see it in his face and it pisses me off. I don't want him to care about me. Not now. Now after what he did.

  I push away but his arms tighten around me. I won't look at him. Because when I do all I see is the image of him coming out of that room. With her. And then I see the vodka bottle and it reminds me of my mom and that letter she wrote.

  It's too much. It's too many emotions. I want the numbness back.

  The rain continues to pour and I shiver again.

  "We're going inside." Garret's tone is forceful. He finally lets me go but grabs my hand, pulling on me to go with him. "Jade, come on. I'm not leaving here without you."

  My mind is still racing, trying to make sense of things that make no sense at all.

  When I don't move, he picks me up and carries me up the hill to our dorm.

  Want to read more? Choosing You is available now!

  ***

  And here's a sample of my standalone contemporary romance, Still Love You, the story of Willow and Silas.

  Chapter One

  Willow

  I cannot believe Silas is standing in my dorm room. Driving me home. Back to Berkeley. Where he is now living...and working for my dad! How could my dad hire him? Out of all the people he could've chosen, he had to pick Silas?

  What is Silas even doing here? He's supposed to be traveling the world, hiking up mountains, doing volunteer work.

  "Willow?" He's standing in front of me now. The door is closed and it's just the two of us. His full lips—the ones I know so well because they've touched every single part of my body—slowly slide up into a smile. "Are you going to say something? Maybe a hello?"

  I swallow, my eyes diverting back to his. "Oh, um, yes. Hello. Sorry. I'm just surprised to see you here."

  "I thought your parents told you I was moving back."

  "Yeah. They did. I just didn't believe them."

  His eyes remain on mine. "Why wouldn't you believe them?"

  I glance away from him. "Because you have a history of not following through on things."

  I shouldn't have said that. He just got here and I don't want to start fighting with him before we even get in the car.

  Silas and I used to fight about a lot of things. The fights were intense but short-lived, always ending in a passionate kiss, followed by clothes being ripped off and our bodies colliding. Just the thought of that has me sweating even more in this sweltering hot room.

  "They turned the air off," I say, fanning myself. "That's why my room is so hot. I guess they thought we didn't need it since everyone's moving out today."

  Spring semester at Camsburg College just ended and half of the girls on my floor have already left for the summer. I was saying goodbye to my friend, Lilly, who lives next door, when Silas appeared. Months ago, my parents told me Silas might be moving back to Berkeley and working on their farm, but I never thought it would actually happen. Silas is a free spirit. He changes his mind all the time. He said he'd be in Europe for two weeks, but ended up being there for two years. I assumed he'd never come back.

  My parents were supposed to pick me up today but instead they sent Silas. I'm sure this was all some ploy to get me to be friends with him again, or more than friends. My parents always liked Silas and wanted us to be together. But all good things must come to an end. And they did, the day he left.

  "I don't think it's hot in here," he says, "but I spent the past couple years working outside all day in some of the hottest regions on Earth, so this is nothing."

  I haven't talked to Silas in two years. When he left, he told me he was going backpacking in Europe, but apparently he only did that for a couple weeks, then spent the rest of the time doing volunteer work. I only know that because my parents told me. They're good friends with Silas' parents.

  "So you've been volunteering?" I ask, still fanning myself.

  "Yeah. Building houses. Bridges. Planting crops. Mostly physical labor."

  I can tell. God, he looks good. All muscle. He was always lean, with defined shoulder and ab muscles that come from surfing. But now? His shoulders are wider, his arms bigger. He looks older, more like a man than the teen boy I remember. His jawline is sharper, more defined, and covered with a thin layer of stubble.

  It's feeling even hotter in here. Did they turn on the heat? Or why is it so hot? And why am I the only one sweating? Silas isn't sweating. He seems perfectly comfortable. And he's wearing jeans! Jeans are heavy and hot. I'm wearing a short red cotton sundress with cutouts in the back. I should feel cool. But instead, I'm on fire. Maybe it's early menopause. Maybe this is a hot flash. At 19? Probably not.

  I need to face facts. I'm burning up inside because the man I was in love with—the man who turns my insides into hot molten lava—is standing before me, looking even better than I remember.

  "Should we get going?" he asks. "The truck is parked right outside."

  "Your mom got a truck?" I ask, shocked that his mom would drive something that uses that much gas.

  "No, it's mine. It's not brand new. It's a couple years old. Anyway, it's still cool from the air conditioning. I'll get it running again and you could wait out there while I load up your stuff."

  "You used the air conditioning?" I ask, shocked again. Silas comes from a family of hippies, as do I. Both our families believe in embracing what nature gives us, which means if it's hot outside, you suck it up. They're always trying to conserve energy, and since air conditioning uses gas, a natural resource that's dwindling in supply, they refuse to use it.

  I'm all for conserving energy, but I don't like sweating and feeling like I'm going to pass out, so I have no problem running the air conditioning.

  "I know you don't like the heat," Silas says, "so I made sure to cool down the truck before I got here."

  "Thanks." I smile.

  His gaze pauses on my lips. Silas always liked my smile. He said it was what made him want to be friends with me when we met on the first day of second grade.

  "No problem," he says.

  We both keep staring at each other. It makes sense that I would stare at him. He's changed a lot since I saw him last. But me? I look pretty much the same.

  Our eyes meet again. I've always loved Silas' eyes. In fact, I'm jealous of them. They're this rich turquoise blue that doesn't even look real. If I saw them in a photo, I'd think they were doctored to look that color. But no, his eyes are actually that color, surrounded by thick black lashes, which I am also envious of.

  I need to stop this. I can't be around him all summer and act like this. I admit there's still something between us. A spark. An energy. An undeniable attraction. But I need to ignore it. We both do.

  Silas is the past. It's over between us. We've both moved on.

  "So your truck is out that way?" I point to my right.

  "The other way. I parked by the side entrance." He turns and walks over to the boxes. "Is there anything breakable in these?"

  "No. It's mostly just books and clothes."

  "This won't take me long. Do you want to wait in the truck?"

  "No. I can help." I'm not the type of girl who sits around and waits for a guy to do things for me. And Silas knows that. He was just being nice, knowing I don't do well in the heat. When it's really hot, like it is today, I don't feel good. Once, I even threw up from the heat, right in front of Silas. It was third grade after we'd been running around all day, but still, I'm sure he doesn't want to witness that again.

  I take a box from the stack. Silas lifts up three all at once as if they weigh nothing, even though the ones he picked up are full of heavy textbooks.

  "Follow me." He casually walks out to the hall. As I follow behind him, I'm so distracted by how good his ass looks in those jeans that I almost trip and drop the box.

  "You okay?" He turns back.

  "Yeah. I'm fine."

  "You want me to take that?" He nods toward
my box.

  I adjust my hold on it. "No. I got it."

  We go outside and he stops at a shiny black pick-up. It's a really nice truck, with an extended cab and leather interior.

  "How'd you get the money for this?"

  "I didn't buy it," he says as he sets the boxes in the truck bed. "One of the guys I met overseas gave it to me. He was working at a free medical clinic and we got to be friends. When I told him I was moving back here and working on your dad's farm, he offered me his truck. He's a surgeon from Napa. Said he never used the truck and asked if I wanted it."

  Silas holds the door open as we go back inside the dorm.

  "He just gave it to you? You're not just borrowing it?"

  "It's mine. The paperwork's in my name. The guy has a lot of money. He said he didn't want the hassle of having to sell it and he liked that it'd be used on the farm. He's a big supporter of organic farming."

  This shouldn't surprise me. Silas makes friends easily. He has a way of winning people over. He's a great salesman. When he used to work the jewelry booth for his mom at the farmers' market, they always sold out of everything when Silas was there.

  I think it's his smile. He has a perfect smile. An easy relaxed smile that draws you in. Not to mention those soft lips and naturally straight white teeth. I had to suffer with braces to get my teeth this straight.

  He goes in my room and picks up four boxes. At this rate, we'll be done in ten minutes.

  It ends up taking twenty, but only because I had to search my room three times to make sure I got everything. I always worry I'll leave something behind.

  Silas watched me during all three searches, leaning against the door with his arms crossed and a slight grin on his face. He finds my somewhat obsessive behaviors to be cute. Most guys find it annoying.

  We return to the truck and he opens my door. The truck is high off the ground, making it difficult to get in while wearing a dress.