by Melissa Jane
MELISSA JANE
XO
Melissa Jane
Copyright 2019 – Melissa Jane
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, real people, and real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the Author’s imagination and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, organizations, or places is entirely coincidental.
All rights are reserved. This book is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the express written permission of the author. All songs, song titles, and lyrics contained in this book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.
Disclaimer: The material in this book contains graphic language and sexual content and is intended for mature audiences, ages 18 and older.
There is content within this book that may set off triggers click here for help.
Editing by Swish Design & Editing
Proofreading by Swish Design & Editing
Book design by Swish Design & Editing
Cover design by Sarah Paige at Opium House Creatives
Cover Design Copyright 2019
First Edition
Cover image Copyright 2019
Other Works by Melissa Jane
The LOS SANTOS Cartel Series
PERFECT LIES #1
PERFECT STRANGER #2
The Bittersweet Cartel Series:
LITTLE DOLL #1
RUTHLESS SONS #2
SAVAGE KING #3
WICKED GAMES #4
Standalone: Romantic Comedy
ARROGANT FIANCE – T.L. Smith & Melissa Jane
SEVER – T.L. Smith & Melissa Jane
THE DARE
Romantic Thrillers
MONSTERS
NEVERLAND
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Blurb
I swear to God, Jacob Lynch, if I ever see your arrogant, smug face again, I’ll ruin your manhood with a swift knee.
You were the glorified football captain, the heartthrob, the most popular boy in school and yet, suddenly you vanish leaving all your horrid friends pointing the finger at me, circling like hungry vultures to see if I would break.
They just didn’t know that I already had. Daily. For months I cried for you. You. Broke. Me.
You taunted and tormented me for years until you finally convinced me to fall in love with you. You said, “Nothing can ever tear us apart.” And I believed you.
But you lied.
And then you left.
Without a word, without a touch, without a sound.
You. Just. Left. Right when my world fell to pieces, you lit the match and watched from afar as what remained went up in flames.
So, if I ever do see your stupidly handsome face again, you’ll be nothing more than the boy I used to know. The boy who broke my heart and crushed my soul all in a single day.
Because, Jacob Lynch… I have no more XO’s to give.
No longer yours,
Rosie.
P.S. I hate how much I still love you
Table of Contents
Other Works by Melissa Jane
Blurb
Table of Contents
ACT ONE
Prologue
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
ACT TWO
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
Epilogue
A Note for the Reader
Connect With Me Online
About the Author
-Please be advised XO contains triggers some may find distressing-
Prologue
NOW
“You gotta open your legs,” Jase heckles his struggling groomsman, Max.
The wedding party sniggers and cheers at the endless stream of innuendos as Katy, a bombshell blonde, tries to pass the balloon from between her perfectly long legs to an awkward and slightly inebriated Max, who can’t seem to get a grip on himself, or life. They grapple each other for balance, hands unwittingly touching various parts of the other’s body as they fight to keep the game going. Having enough of his incompetence, Katy takes charge, thrusting forward until the balloon jams between his thighs. The room erupts in applause, and he turns to Amber—the second-in-charge bridesmaid—who appears more enthusiastic than most. She winks and parts her legs like a pro.
“She’s been waiting for this moment her entire life,” Vicki, the bride and my best friend, giggles into my ear. “However, I don’t think she ever expected it to be a balloon.”
I snort my laugh because Vicki and Jase have managed to find a bridal party that seems hell-bent on achieving their one objective—banging each other. And by the time the joint party had arrived two weeks before the big event, sexual tension’s in overload. And we still have the rehearsal dinner, hen and stag parties, then the actual wedding to go.
“It will probably be more pleasurable than what he’s got to offer,” I say loud enough over the music and raucous. Max, albeit incredibly handsome, is a renowned pothead, so Katy will have to find out the hard, or not so hard, way.
“The only one left to partner up is you.”
I visibly cringe. “Not going to happen.”
“You say that now, but…”
“But nothing. I’m very much happy on my own.”
“That’s because you haven’t yet met Jase’s best man.” Her green eyes twinkle with mischief.
“And even when I do, my feelings will remain the same.”
She plumps her generous cleavage in the scoop neck dress she’s wearing. Vicki can easily pass as Dolly Parton in her heyday. Generous breasts, curves for days, tiny in stature and big Texas blonde hair, and she sure knows how to work every bit of it. “Girl, how long has it been?”
“It?”
“Don’t play coy with me. Tell me?”
“A few months.”
She rolls her eyes. “That means a year.”
“Eight months.”
She sighs. “That means two years.”
“Vicki, that’s—”
“I’m right, aren’t I?”
“No!”
“That means yes.”
Damn, she’s good. “Fine. Eighteen months.”
“You’re gonna need to clear those cobwebs somehow.”
I playfully slap her arm. “There are no cobwebs, thank you. I’m a modern woman, and I can look after myself.”
“You need to challenge Amber for that balloon. You need it more than her.”
“Fuck you.” I giggle, feeling slightly affected by my fourth cosmopolitan.
Did she have a point?
Am I fated to become a lonely spinster at twenty-seven?
I’d had relationships in the past. Well, perhaps relationships is too much of an overstatement—fleeting affairs sound more accurate.
“No, but seriously…” she jokes, completely not serious, “… this man is to die for. And it would be a shame if he goes
to waste because he’s very much single.”
“That’s good to know, Vicki,” I reply deadpan. “And, while I’m flattered you chose me to be your maid of honor, I do not wish to partake in your seemingly well-planned orgy.”
She snorts into her glass, champagne spraying her face. “Let the record show…” she says, delicately wiping her glossed lips, “… I did not know our wedding party would be so damn horny, especially for each other. Even I’m surprised.”
I look down the line and see the balloon has so far survived the ordeal.
“You’re up!” Vicki massages my shoulders. “Do it for the girls.”
Peter, the second groomsman, turns to me. He’s unsteadied due to the copious amounts of jaeger bombs he’s consumed and his willingness to get up close and personal. I’m hesitant to have him invade my body space, especially after the gross and rather detailed stories Vicki’s previously told me about him. But, stories aside, my best friend pushes me forward until my chest hits his. He sees it as a come-on and licks his lips in a way he thinks is sexy. I can say from firsthand experience, it’s not even remotely attractive. He’s yet another handsome man in Jase’s posse, but unlike pothead, Max, Peter is fully aware of his good looks and the effect it must have on women when he’s sober.
“Okay, big fella, steady on,” I warn, stepping back to create some distance. His hand snakes around my waist while he tries to insert the balloon between my legs. The group cheers, and I grimace wishing I’d accepted the earlier tequila shots. It would make the whole experience much more forgettable. As soon as I go to grip the balloon, Peter staggers back, taking me with him. Vicki holds my waist, and while I’m caught in a lopsided, awkward embrace with my balloon partner, I hear commotion at the door, the groom shouting in excitement. I try to turn but can only glimpse his back as Jase pulls him into a man hug.
“I can’t get it in,” Peter slurs as he claws my ass.
“Yep… I’m sure you say that to all the girls.” Thrusting forward, I grab the balloon. “Let go,” I order.
His leering, bloodshot eyes twinkle, and I have no doubt he’ll pass out within the hour. When he inches closer, lips seeking mine, I give a gentle push until he staggers back, loses his balance, and falls onto the stage resembling an upturned turtle.
I spin when I hear Vicki clap, but it’s not Vicki I’m looking at. I look harder, studying his chiseled features and beautifully tanned skin. The intense dark eyes that stare back and the perfectly round freckle below his cheekbone tells me all I have to know.
I haven’t seen his handsome face in ten years.
When he left town without notice.
Since the day he devastated my heart.
Or more accurately, since the day he tore my heart from my chest and put it through a shredding machine. And now, here he stands, sexy as fuck and looking just as confused as I am.
“It’s you,” he murmurs, brows creased.
“You,” I reply bitterly, feeling my body tense. “What are you doing… ow… Jesus… fuck!” I grimace as the traitorous balloon pops between my legs, stinging my inner thighs. The pain radiates on my skin, however, it’s nothing compared to the dagger that’s just been plunged through my heart.
1
THEN
“Loosen your grip, Team Kennedy,” Mr. Allen, our gym teacher instructs, trying to position the bandana over the centerline. The sports day is coming to an end between the seniors, and the score is too close for comfort. It all comes down to a game of tug-of-war to break the tie and decide the winner. One false move and Team Lincoln, captained by Jacob Lynch, will take victory. The arrogant, smart-assed Jacob Lynch, takes pleasure in the discomfort he causes. Discomfort, because he takes it upon himself to wreak havoc in my life since the day we first met at the freshmen’s Open Day. Invasion Day as I call it. Because he just waltzed on in, took over, and never left.
“No cheating, Posie.” Jacob, smirks.
I loathe when he calls me that instead of Rosie.
“If anyone’s cheating, it’s you.” There’s a small but defiant rope tug before Mr. Allen warns Team Lincoln to loosen their grip, still fighting to center the bandana.
“Team Lincoln… if you don’t cooperate, I’ll award the points to Kennedy.”
The vocal girls behind me giggle and jeer those on the other side who holler their replies, rude enough to incite a response, but subtle enough to fly under the radar of a teacher reprimand. I turn to Cody, who’s our anchor and self-proclaimed ‘heavyweight.’ He smiles, his chubby cheeks becoming even chubbier.
“Are you ready?” I mouth.
He nods and winks, stepping one foot behind the other, while his hands grip the rope.
“Don’t fall too hard, Posie. I may not catch you,” Jacob taunts.
“Say hi to the gym floor when it hits you in the face,” I retort.
His eyes alight in humor while he laughs at my comeback, and it’s the sexiest sound ever. Damn him. “Challenge accepted.”
“Team Kennedy, are you ready?” Mr. Allen asks.
“Yes,” my team says in perfect unison—we’re off to a good start.
“Team Lincoln, are you ready?”
“Yes,” Jacob and his mixed team of football players and cheerleaders all yell.
It really is a competition between the populars versus the nerds and outcasts. Me being both a nerd and outcast. I wonder how Mr. Allen had created the teams and how much bias went into his decision-making. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he’d placed an insider bet on Team Lincoln winning. He’d probably be shitting himself with the score being so close right at this moment. Team Kennedy had snuck up from behind, our strength being the very tall and nimble Hans. Nobody would have guessed that the loner German exchange student with Coke bottle glasses would take to the track and field events like he was a contender for the Olympic games. But he did, and the football jocks simply cannot outrun, outthrow, or outjump the boy they never knew existed.
“Lincoln and Kennedy, this is your decider,” he announces for the crowd in the bleachers to hear. They yell their support, a sea of blue banners waving for a Lincoln win, a few flashes of red for my quiet, yet determined team. “At the sound of my whistle.” Mr. Allen holds the rope firm as players on both teams dig in their heels. Jacob and I both lower in position, eyes locked, ready for combat.
“It’s on, Posie.” He smirks, and I want to make him hurt.
The whistle blows, and we all heave against the pull, the thick rope tearing at our skin. My feet slip, the bandana crossing the centerline toward Team Lincoln. The crowd cheers as their favorite team inches closer to the winning line.
“Dig in, Cody,” I yell above the noise, hoping our anchor has more in his reserves.
Jacob smiles at my desperate plea, but that’s quickly wiped clean when he and his team are forced to take a step forward, centering the bandana.
Now it’s my time to smile, my foe’s eyes flickering with a sudden concern that he may well lose, and worse, lose to me.
Both teams grunt and grimace, the banner shifting a few inches here and there. That is until the worse possible scenario occurs. Team Kennedy is nothing without him. In fact, had we not convinced him to partake in the game’s decider, we would have had to hand victory over to Team Lincoln. So, when Cody’s lack of shoe grip slips on the polished basketball courts, resulting in a twisted ankle, he falls flat, and fatefully releases the rope. Team Lincoln staggers back with the sudden release of tension which catapults me forward. The rival team falls in a heap, and I drop perfectly on top of the one and only Jacob Lynch. It takes me a moment to gather my senses and comprehend the fact he can feel my bits, and I can feel his.
“I decided to catch you after all,” he says playfully.
“No, you didn’t. Had you a choice, you’d rather see me fall on my face.”
“So ungrateful, given your knee almost pulverized my balls.”
Jacob’s friends snigger, and I’m embarrassed to find everyone in the gymnasium
laughing and gossiping at how the art nerd continues to lay upon the high school heartthrob, well after what would be considered acceptable.
I’m horrified.
Mortified even.
“You’re such a jerk,” I say when he winks yet again. Damn him and the effect that sly wink has on me. I slide off him and return to my sorry and worse-for-wear group.
“Are you okay?” I ask Cody, who’s being attended to by the school nurse with a handful of icepacks.
“Was it worthwhile for you?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Ew… no.”
So why am I still blushing?
“Quiet down,” Mr. Allen calls to the crowd. It takes a few moments before they follow his instruction. “Quiet!” he says it again, but this time much louder and continues, “Well, that was closer than I guess any of us expected.”
I roll my eyes at how clearly transparent the man is. He’d planned it to be a whitewash victory, and his shock and disappointment is obvious. “A valiant effort from the underdog, Team Kennedy.” He starts an applause, and few but not many obliging audience members contribute.
“Did he just call us the underdogs?” Nessie, my best friend since pre-school, asks in disbelief while tying up her mass of curls and straightening her black glasses.
“Yep,” I say. He’s right but throw a dog a bone.
“Our winners today go to the victorious Team Lincoln, who remains in possession of the trophy for yet another year.” Mr. Allen turns to Jacob. “Does the captain want to make a speech?”
Jacob steps forward, and the crowd cheers their football and sports day captain. He side-glances me for the briefest of moments, and my cheeks flush. “Couldn’t have done it without my team,” he starts gallantly, his football jocks elbowing each other. “But of course, where there’s a winner, there’s always got to be a loser.” His smirking face meets mine, and I want to punch him. “Sorry, Posie. I can give you some pointers for next time.”
