by Ava Conway
I gasped and clung to his arms as he worked over my body, making me dizzy with need. I tugged on his shirt, wanting him closer. He responded by easing me back against the tree trunk and sliding his hand along my inner thigh. He used his strong, boxer-toned muscles to turn me so that my backside rested against the trunk and two branches, keeping me safe. Once situated, he eased against my body, locking me between the hard trunk and his strong, masculine frame. A craving rose from somewhere deep in my soul. I clung to him, desperate for him to give me more.
“Flynn.” He moved back up to my lips, swallowing my gasp with his mouth.
I loved how his body seemed to envelop mine. Wedged between his hard muscles and the tree trunk, I felt safe and protected. More important, I didn’t feel alone. After months and months of trying to prove myself, I could finally be at peace. Flynn didn’t care about my accomplishments, or the brave face I showed the world. He didn’t care about my past or future. He only cared about who I was in this moment, and I couldn’t help but find that point of view incredibly seductive.
It also frightened me. Flynn was wrong. People couldn’t live in the moment forever. Eventually they had to move on and think about the future. Flynn wanted me now, yes, but he didn’t know all my secrets. He didn’t know how badly I could fuck up his life—just like I fucked up Justin’s.
A cool breeze rustled through the leaves of the tree. It brushed against my skin, giving me goose bumps and providing a temporary break in the fog in my mind.
“Flynn.”
“Mia.” He moved to my neck once more. I turned my head and saw the people walking through the quad. In that moment I realized that we were making out in plain view of the entire hospital. All anyone had to do was look up and they could see us.
I pushed at his chest. “Flynn, stop.”
“Come on, you don’t want to stop.”
I didn’t, but . . . “Flynn, please.”
He lifted his head and met my gaze but kept his hands on my body. “What is it?”
“This is wrong.”
The heat in his eyes began to shift. “Don’t say that.”
I shook my head. “We can’t do this. I could get fired.”
“Fuck the internship. It isn’t important.”
“It’s important to me.” I pushed again.
“More important than living in the moment? More important than this?” He kissed me again, and God help me, it felt so good. It took every ounce of my willpower to turn my head away.
“Flynn, please.”
He let go of me and eased back. “Why are you doing this?”
“It’s what I want.”
“Is it?”
“What do you mean? Of course it is.”
“If you really wanted that internship, then why did you sneak up to the roof with me?”
“You manipulated me.”
“Did I?”
I crossed my arms and tried to clear my head. “You snuck me up here and kissed me.”
“If I remember correctly, you didn’t exactly say no.”
There was something about his tone of voice, so matter-of-fact, so conceited. It reminded me of Justin and grated on my nerves.
“This isn’t happening.” I waved my hand between us. “We aren’t happening.”
“Mia.” He eased forward, but I quickly shifted my weight away from him and onto the second branch.
“No. This internship is my life, Flynn. It’s what’s important.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“Why not? It’s true.”
“You don’t act like the rest of them, Mia. You care too much to be a part of this. I can see it in your face. You have too much compassion inside you. This place will eat you alive.”
“Elias has compassion.”
“Elias is lonely. That’s not compassion. There’s a difference.”
“No.” I held up my hand as he tried to climb over onto the branch with me. “I don’t know what you were thinking bringing me up here, but it’s going to stop right now. I’m an intern and you . . . you’re a . . .”
Flynn’s whole body stiffened. “Come on, you can say it.” He dug his fingers into the tree bark and ground his teeth. “I’m a loser.”
“I was going to say mental patient.”
“That’s the same thing.”
“No, it isn’t.” I let out a long breath and glanced down. Dizziness once again threated to rise and swallow me whole. “Help me down.”
He hesitated, but then did as I asked. Together, we inched our way back down onto the roof of the teaching building. I let out a sigh of relief when my feet hit solid ground once more.
“Wait.” Flynn squeezed my hand, preventing me from walking away.
“No, we can’t do this. You need to heal, Flynn. You’re here to get better.”
“And why are you here, Mia?” He tugged on my hand, drawing us closer.
I lifted my chin. “I’m here for an internship. I want to be a doctor. A psychologist.”
“And then what?” He tugged us closer and slid his arms around my waist.
“What do you mean?”
“So you become a psychologist. Then what? What do you really want to do with your life, Mia?” When I didn’t answer, he let out a quick, hard breath and rested his forehead against mine. “You don’t know, do you.”
“I do know.” I untangled myself from his sexy embrace and took a step back. “I want to help others bury their problems and move forward to the future.”
“Bury their past.”
“Not past—problems.” I glanced at the quad below. “They aren’t the same thing.”
Flynn tilted his head and studied my face. “But for you, they are, aren’t they?”
I took another step back. “Shut up.”
He advanced another step. “You’re hiding something. I can tell.”
“Fuck you. You don’t know me.” My voice trembled as I backed away.
“I know you better than you think. Something happened in your past that made you push people away. What was it?”
I pointed my finger at him. “You stay away from me, Flynn McKenna. You hear me? Just stay away from me. I’ve worked really hard for this internship and I’m not going to let you, or anyone else, take this way from me.” I turned my back on him and strode quickly for the stairs, desperate to put some distance between us. As I flung open the stairwell door and hurried inside, Flynn’s words caught up with me.
“What are you hiding, Mia?”
I raced down the stairs and back to my office, not daring to breathe until the door was closed firmly behind me.
It was only then that I noticed that my hands were shaking.
TWELVE
Two Years Earlier
I CLUTCHED Freckles closer to my chest as the apartment door opened. Lucy and Bethany’s laughter floated through the crack in my bedroom door and I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing I could make myself invisible.
”Hey, Mia, I know you’re in there.” Bethany slammed her fist on the door, making me cringe. It sounded like both she and Lucy had started partying early.
I knew that they’d never leave me alone until I gave them a good excuse for not going to that fraternity party tonight.
“Mia, are you okay?” It was Lucy’s voice this time. Her words were slurred, but at least she wasn’t too drunk to care.
“Yeah, I’m here.” Slowly I got up off the bed and opened my bedroom door.
Bethany staggered back and dragged her gaze up and down my body, assessing. “She’s holding a stuffed animal,” Bethany declared.
“Animal?” Lucy asked.
“Yeah, a bunny.” Bethany wrinkled her nose and placed her bottle of citrus vodka on my dresser. “And it looks kind of like Justin.”
“It does not.” I held up the bunny and studied its face. “You’re just saying that because he’s wearing a football jersey.”
“Of course I am.” Bethany waved her paper cup in the air. “Your boyfriend wears that je
rsey like a second skin. I’m surprised it hasn’t fused to his body yet.”
“He’s not my boyfriend—and I’d never buy a stuffed animal that looked like an asshole.”
“Oh, hell.” Lucy stumbled forward and put her hand on my arm. “What happened?”
All my anger deflated as I focused on Lucy’s concerned expression. “Justin broke up with me.”
“Over a stupid bunny?” Bethany asked. “I thought that egotistical ass would be pleased that you went out and bought a stuffed animal that looked like him.”
“No, not over the bunny.”
“Then why?”
I shrugged and petted the stuffed animal. “I just don’t fit into his life plan, I guess.” Which was the truth, just not all the truth. I couldn’t tell Bethany and Lucy what really happened, not when they were like this. I needed time to sort things out first, and I couldn’t do that with a couple of drunk roommates.
Lucy took a long sip from a paper cup and threw her free hand in the air. “It doesn’t matter. We don’t need his egotistical ass.”
“He wasn’t egotistical.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Lucy put her hand on her chest and flashed me a blank expression. “So you liked how he droned on and on about his football scholarship?”
I shrugged and looked away.
“Get this girl a drink, Lucy,” Bethany said. “That’ll make her feel better.”
Lucy sauntered over to the half-empty citrus vodka on the dresser. “I got the good stuff this time.” She winked at me as she poured. “By the time we get to the party, you won’t even remember his name.”
“You won’t even remember your own name,” Bethany corrected. She turned and winked at me. “Which will be perfect for a one-night hookup.”
I wrinkled my nose. “I’m not into one-night stands.”
“You should try it,” Bethany said as she raised her cup to her lips. “It does a lot to brighten the mood and change your outlook on life.”
Lucy rolled her eyes as she handed me a cup full of vodka—no ice. “She’s still on her quest to conquer the Den of Pleasure.” Lucy shook her hips suggestively.
“Shut up.” Bethany nudged Lucy, who staggered back toward the vodka to refill her cup. Bethany leaned close to me and whispered in her best conspiratorial voice, “I think I’m going to do it this time.”
“Yeah?”
She nodded. “My name will be inscribed on that shrine tonight—I just know it.”
Lucy shuddered. “I don’t know why this is so important to you.”
“Legacy,” Bethany said.
“Legacy?” I asked.
Bethany raised her drink. “To be immortalized as one of the best fucks on campus.”
“You’d have to outsex a whole lot of girls to get that title,” Lucy said.
“No, I just have to fuck the right guy.” Bethany flashed me a mischievous grin and took a long sip from her cup. “And in front of the right audience.”
“The right guy?” Lucy asked as she sauntered over.
“Sure. If one of the older guys, someone with influence, thought I was good, then it would mean something.”
“And I suppose you know who your conquest will be tonight?”
“Of course.” Bethany smiled. “I’ve been working on him for a while, and I think that tonight he’ll be just where I want him.” She winked at Lucy. “I also know who will be watching.”
“Probably Brad,” Lucy said as she frowned at her vodka. “He’s into that voyeuristic shit.”
“You’re insane, Bethany, you know that?” I peered down into my cup as my stomach lurched. “God, Lucy, this is way too much.”
“Enough to help you forget what’s-his-face,” Bethany said as she linked her arm with mine. “Come on, we can go into the Den together. A little ménage à trois. It will be fun.”
“No, thanks.” My stomach lurched again, and then my muscles began to cramp. I winced and slid my hand over my belly.
“Come on,” Bethany said. “Don’t you want to become immortal?”
“Not by fucking a stranger on a smelly mattress in front of the whole school.”
“Not the whole school.” Bethany smiled. “Just the judges.”
I rolled my eyes. “And who made them judges?”
“They’re experienced.” Bethany finished off her vodka and handed the cup to Lucy for a refill. “Rumor has it that if the judges think you’re good, they’ll join in.” She waggled her brows. “Could you imagine it? Four men completely focused on your pleasure.”
“You really think they’ll be focused on your pleasure?” I handed Lucy back my cup. “No, thanks.” My stomach muscles seized once more. I gasped and clutched my stomach.
“Come on, Mia. Drink up. It will make you feel better, I promise.” Lucy knitted her brows. “Are you okay?”
Another cramp hit me, this one harder than the last. The baby. I rushed to the bathroom, clutching my stomach. Bethany and Lucy followed, but I slammed the bathroom door and locked it before they could enter.
“Mia?” Bethany asked as she banged on the door. “Let us in.”
“What’s going on, honey?” Lucy asked.
I pulled down my pants and sat on the toilet seat as another round of cramps hit me hard. Sweat beaded on my brow, and I doubled over in pain. Fuck. Something was wrong with me. I could feel it.
When the tightening in my lower abdomen finally began to ease, I straightened and looked down at my underwear. Small red spots dotting the cotton fabric. I covered my mouth with my hand and closed my eyes. I couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. My baby.
“I don’t think I’m going to make it to the party tonight,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm.
“Aw, come on, Mia. We had a thing going,” Bethany said.
“What is it, are you sick?” Lucy asked.
“I think—I think I have a touch of the flu.” I spread open my legs and stared at the pink liquid beneath me. My mind blanked with horror as tears filled my eyes.
Keep it together. I raised my head and squeezed my eyes shut. I had to keep my shit together if I wanted to keep this pregnancy a secret.
The blood could be nothing. Tons of women had spotting during their first trimester of pregnancy. It could be completely normal.
And yet I knew. I knew. It was the Horton curse. All the women in my family had faulty equipment. I was damaged goods.
“Mia?” Lucy knocked on the door. “Come on, open up. You’re scaring me.”
“Aw, leave her. She’s probably yacking up something she ate at the frat house earlier. Those guys are cute, but they can’t cook worth shit.”
With shaking hands, I grabbed a large wad of toilet paper and stuffed it between my legs. I needed to see a doctor. Yes, that’s it. A doctor might be able to fix this.
“I’m okay,” I said as I pulled on my pants and adjusted my clothes. Grabbing Freckles from the counter, I stuffed him into the front pocket of my sweatshirt and washed my hands. “I think I might need to see the campus nurse, though.”
“Do you want me to go with you?”
I finished cleaning up, put on my best fake smile, and opened the door. “No need. I just want to get some flu meds before this gets any worse.”
Lucy studied my face, and for one long, horrible moment, I thought she saw through my lie.
“Okay,” she said as she tossed her cup into the trash. “Do you want us to save anything for you from the party?”
“Like what, the beer-stained cushions?” Bethany asked as she downed the last of her vodka. “Or perhaps some of the sticky goo on the dance floor?”
Just watching Bethany drink made my stomach lurch. My roommate had said that when she drank she felt more beautiful. She didn’t look beautiful now. She looked more pathetic than anything else.
I glanced at Lucy. “I’ve got to go.”
“Hey.” Lucy wrapped her arms around me before I could stop her. “Take care of yourself, will ya?” She stepped back and grinned. “We�
�ll give you a full report in the morning.”
I forced myself to smile. “I’m counting on it.” Grabbing my purse, I made my way out of the apartment and to my car. The drive to the hospital felt like a blur, and the next two hours made me wish that I had taken Lucy and Bethany up on their offer for a drink. The only constant during my hellish nightmare was the little stuffed bunny I clutched to my chest. After being poked, prodded, and asked questions such as “Have you been under a lot of stress lately?” my worst suspicions were confirmed.
“This is actually quite common for people with your condition,” the doctor said. “But don’t worry. You and your husband can try again. I know of a good fertility clinic—”
“Not now, James.” The nurse shooed him away. “Do you want me to call anyone?” she asked as she patted my hand.
I shook my head no. The only person besides me who knew about the pregnancy was Justin, and I was quite sure he wouldn’t share my grief.
I was told that there was nothing they could do. The pregnancy had been eight weeks along, and when miscarriages happened this early it was best to let nature take its course. I was sent home knowing that for the next several days I would have a constant reminder of how I had failed my baby when she—I just knew in my heart it was a girl—needed me the most.
Damn Horton curse.
I drove home in a fog, not caring if I crashed my father’s Volvo because it didn’t really matter. Nothing mattered anymore.
Thankfully, the apartment was empty. Four hours had passed since Bethany and Lucy had left for the party, and by now it was well under way. I bypassed the bathroom and went to my bedroom. Taking Freckles out of my pocket, I fell onto the bed and sobbed into my pillow. It felt as if my carefully constructed world had shattered around me, and I was far too weak to pick up the pieces.
Hours later, when my tears were spent and the cramping dissolved into a dull ache, my cell rang. I thought about ignoring it, but knew that I couldn’t hide away forever. Eventually I had to face the world again. I was the type of person who always answered her phone, no exceptions. Lucy had even joked that I had no use for an answering machine because I was so good at picking up the line. If I didn’t answer the phone now, people would wonder if something happened to me, and I didn’t feel like answering those questions.
