It's Our Secret

by W. Winters

  “My grandmother used to say, find someone who loves you just a little more than you love them.” My eyes water, remembering how she said it. And how she meant it.

  “And is that how you view your relationship with Dean?” he asks me.

  I shake my head, nearly violently, as I wipe the tears away from the corners of my eyes. “No,” I say quickly, the word coming out scratchy. “But I’m afraid that’s how he’ll feel because I’m not good at loving anymore. That’s what really matters. It’s not about the truth. It’s all about what people think.”

  “Why do you say that?” he asks me.

  “Because it’s so obvious he’d do anything for me. And I’m scared he doesn’t think I’d do the same for him.” I would. I’d kill for him, die for him. Dean is my everything.

  “No, why do you say you aren’t good at loving anymore?” Dr. Robinson says. He adds before I can answer, “Dean knows you love him. It’s something that’s clear to him. And to me,.”

  It soothes me like a balm on my aching chest, calming the anxiety and nerves that keep me up at night. “Why do you think you’re not good at loving?”

  “I haven’t done it before. Not like this. And I’m scared,” I say, the confession coming out in a single breath.

  “Scared of what?” he asks me.

  “That one day he’ll leave me, and I won’t survive it.” I sniff, reaching for the tissues on the coffee table and keep talking without looking him in the eyes.

  “I don’t know how he can forgive me so easily. He says it’s love, but I still don’t quite feel like I deserve it.”

  “Because you were protecting yourself.”

  “If I had trusted him sooner,” I start to say the same thing I’ve been saying for weeks. I stop myself and pick under my nails, staring blindly ahead. “I can’t change the past.”

  “And your past is where it belongs, behind you. What you have now is someone who loves you and who you love in return. Someone who wants to grow with you. Someone who knows the shadow side of yourself and you know his. There isn’t much that could be more ideal than that. To love and be loved for every part of you.”

  “I feel like I can never show Dean how much I love him.”

  “Maybe that’s a good thing. I want that to be your homework.”

  “What?”

  “I want you to write down ways you show Dean how you love him and how he loves you.”

  I nod my head easily, feeling relieved slightly. Even if I could write it all down, Dean will never know exactly what he means to me. He knows everything, my darkest secrets, and he still loves me, without judgment. He gave me a new life and it’s complete with him in it.

  I don’t think it’s possible to feel more love for that man than I do.

  “Do you believe in fate, Dr. Robinson?” I speak without thinking.

  “Why do you ask?” he answers my question with a question of his own and a small laugh bubbles up as I trace the edge of the coffee table with my fingers. It’s hard and unforgiving as I let my thoughts surface without fear of his judgment.

  “Dean was supposed to be at that party.” It takes a moment for the good doctor to realize what I’m saying and when he does, his brow raises with surprise.

  “If he hadn’t gotten suspended and in that fight with his stepdad, he would have been there.”

  “And what do you think about that?” Dr. Robinson asks me.

  “I think he would have hit it off with Sam.” My answer comes out choked.

  “Do you think he would have ended up with her and not you?”

  “I think none of it would have happened.” The words pour from me. “I don’t think any of that night would have happened.” The thought of that night being erased eases a pain inside of me, but then it comes back full force knowing that wish will never come true.

  “Maybe we were supposed to be together, like fate.”

  “Or soulmates,” he says.

  “Whatever you want to call it.” I shrug and then add, “Maybe that’s why we felt the way we did toward each other when I first came here. Like somewhere deep down inside we knew, and Dean knew it long before me because he wasn’t as broken.”

  “Do you still feel broken?” Dr. Robinson asks me and it’s such a ridiculous question.

  “Of course I am.” Once you’re shattered, you can be mended but the cracks are still there. “Both of us were flawed, but together we make sense, don’t we?” I ask Dr. Robinson, and never in my life has someone’s judgment meant more to me. He simply nods as his timer goes off.

  It’s time to go.

  Time for a fresh start.

  The End.

  If you loved It’s Our Secret, you’re going to devour Daniel’s story. Keep reading for a sneak peek at Possessive, now available on Kindle Unlimited!

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  From USA Today best-selling author Willow Winters comes an emotionally gripping, standalone, contemporary romance.

  It was never love with Daniel and I never thought it would be.

  It was only lust from a distance.

  Unrequited love maybe.

  He’s a man I could never have, for so many reasons.

  That didn’t stop my heart from beating wildly when his eyes pierced through me.

  It only slowed back down when he’d look away, making me feel so damn unworthy and reminding me that he would never be mine.

  Years have passed and one look at him brings it all back.

  But time changes everything.

  There’s a heat in his eyes I recognize from so long ago, a tension between us I thought was one-sided.

  “Tell me you want it.” His rough voice cuts through the night and I can’t resist.

  That’s where my story really begins.

  Click here to read Possessive now!

  “Possessive is an emotional, gripping story. Filled with heartache, guilt and longing! Possessive will take you on a journey of obsession and jealousy ... it's emotional, raw and captivating.” - Beyond The Covers Blog

  Sneak Peek at Possessive

  From USA Today bestselling author W Winters comes an emotionally gripping, standalone, contemporary romance.

  It was never love with Daniel and I never thought it would be.

  It was only lust from a distance.

  Unrequited love maybe.

  He’s a man I could never have, for so many reasons.

  That didn’t stop my heart from beating wildly when his eyes pierced through me.

  It only slowed back down when he’d look away, making me feel so damn unworthy and reminding me that he would never be mine.

  Years have passed and one look at him brings it all back.

  But time changes everything.

  There’s a heat in his eyes I recognize from so long ago, a tension between us I thought was one-sided.

  “Tell me you want it.” His rough voice cuts through the night and I can’t resist.

  That’s where my story really begins.

  Possessive is an emotional, gripping story. Filled with heartache, guilt and longing! Possessive will take you on a journey of obsession and jealousy...it's emotional, raw and captivating. - Beyond The Covers Blog

  Preface

  Addison

  It’s easy to smile around Tyler.

  It’s how he got me. We were in tenth-grade calculus, and he made some stupid joke about angles. I don’t even remember what it was. Something about never discussing infinity with a mathematician because you’ll never hear the end of it. He’s a cute dork with his jokes. He knows some dirty ones too.

  A year later and he still makes me smile. Even when we’re fighting. He says he just wants to see me smile. How could I leave when I believe him with everything in me?

  My friend’s grandmother told me once to fall in love with someone who loves you just a little more.

  Even as my shoulders shake with a small laugh an
d he leans forward nipping my neck, I know that I’ll never really love Tyler the way he loves me.

  And it makes me ashamed. Truly.

  I’m still laughing when the bedroom door creaks open. Tyler plants a small kiss on my shoulder. It’s not an open-mouth kiss, but still, it leaves a trace on my skin and sends a warmth through my body. It’s only momentary though.

  The cool air passes between the two of us, as Tyler leans back and smiles broadly at his brother.

  I may be seated on my boyfriend’s lap, but the way Daniel looks at me makes me feel alone. His eyes pierce through me. With a sharpness that makes me afraid to move. Afraid to breathe even.

  I don’t know why he does this to me.

  He makes me hot and cold at the same time. It’s like I’ve disappointed him simply by being here. As if he doesn’t like me. Yet, there’s something else.

  Something that’s forbidden.

  It creeps up on me whenever I hear Daniel’s rough voice; whenever I catch him watching Tyler and me. It’s like I’ve been caught cheating, which makes no sense at all. I don’t belong to Daniel, no matter how much that idea haunts my dreams.

  He’s almost twenty and I’m only sixteen. And more importantly, he’s Tyler’s brother.

  It’s all in my head. I tell myself over and over again that the electricity between us is something I’ve made up. That my body doesn’t burn for Daniel. That my soul doesn’t ache for him to rip me away and punish me for daring to let his brother touch me.

  It’s only when Tyler says something to him, that Daniel turns to look at him, tossing something down beside us.

  Tyler’s oblivious to everything happening. And suddenly, I can breathe again.

  My eyelids flutter open, my body hot under the stifling blankets. I don’t react to the memory in my dreams anymore. Not at first. It sinks in slowly. The recognition of what that day would lead to getting heavier in my heart with each second that passes. Like a wave crashing on the shore, but it’s taking its time. Threatening as it approaches.

  It was years ago, but the memory stays.

  The feeling of betrayal, for fantasizing about Tyler’s older brother.

  The heartache from knowing what happened only three weeks after that night.

  The desire and desperation to go back to that point and beg Tyler to never come looking for me.

  All of those needs stir into a deadly concoction in the pit of my stomach. It’s been years since I’ve been tormented by the memories of Tyler and what we had. And by the memories of Daniel and what never was.

  Years have passed.

  But it all comes back now that Daniel's back.

  Click here to keep reading Possessive!

  1

  Addison

  The night before

  I love this bar. Iron Heart Brewery. It’s nestled in the center of the city and located at the corner of this street. The town itself has history. Hints of the old cobblestone streets peek through the torn asphalt and all the signs here are worn and faded, decorated with weathered paint. I can’t help but to be drawn here.

  And with the varied memorabilia lining the walls, from signed knickknacks to old glass bottles of liquor, this place is flooded with a welcoming warmth. It’s a quiet bar with all local and draft beers a few blocks away from the chaos of campus. So it’s just right for me.

  “Make up your mind?”

  My body jolts at the sudden question. It only gets me a rough laugh from the tall man on my left, the bartender who spooked me. A grey shirt with the brewery logo on it fits the man well, forming to his muscular shoulders. With a bit of stubble and a charming smirk, he’s not bad looking. And at that thought, my cheeks heat with a blush.

  I could see us making out behind the bar; I can even hear the bottles clinking as we crash against the wall in a moment of passion. But that’s where it would end for me. No hot and dirty sex on the hard floor. No taking him back to my barely furnished apartment.

  I roll my eyes at the thought and blow a strand of hair away from my face as I meet his gaze.

  I’m sure he flirts with everyone. But it doesn’t make it any less fun for the moment.

  “Whatever your favorite is,” I tell him sheepishly. “I’m not picky.” I have to press my lips together and hold back my smile when he widens his and nods.

  “You new to town?” he asks me.

  I shrug and have to slide the strap to my tank top back up onto my shoulder. Before I can answer, the door to the brewery and bar swings open, bringing in the sounds of the nightlife with it. It closes after two more customers leave. Looking over my shoulder through the large glass door at the front, I can see them heading out. The woman is leaning heavily against a strong man who’s obviously her significant other.

  Giving the bartender my attention again, I’m very much aware that there are only six of us here now. Two older men at the high top bar, talking in hushed voices and occasionally laughing so loud that I have to take a peek at them.

  And one other couple who are seated at a table in the corner of the bar. The couple who just left had been sitting with them. All four are older than I am. I’d guess married with children and having a night out on the town.

  And then there’s the bartender and me.

  “I’m not really from here, no.”

  “Just passing through?” he asks me as he walks toward the bar. I’m a table away, but he keeps his eyes on me as he reaches for a glass and hits the tap to fill it with something dark and decadent.

  “I’m thinking about going to the university actually. To study business. I came to check it out.” I don’t tell him that I’m putting down some temporary roots regardless of whether or not I like the school here. Every year or so I move somewhere new … searching for what could feel like home.

  His eyebrow raises and he looks me up and down, making me feel naked. “Your ID isn’t fake, right?” he asks and then tilts the tall glass in his hand to let the foam slide down the side.

  “It isn’t fake, I swear,” I say with a smile and hold up my hands in defense. “I chose to travel instead of going to college. I’ve got a little business, but I thought finally learning more about the technicalities of it all would be a step in the right direction.” I pause, thinking about how a degree feels more like a distraction than anything else. It’s a reason to settle down and stop moving from place to place. It could be the change I need. Something needs to change.

  His expression turns curious and I can practically hear all the questions on his lips. Where did you go? What did you do? Why did you leave your home so young and naïve? I’ve heard them all before and I have a prepared list of answers in my head for such questions.

  But they’re all lies. Pretty little lies.

  He cleans off the glass before walking back over and pulling out the seat across from me.

  Just as the legs of the chair scrape across the floor, the door behind me opens again, interrupting our conversation and the soft strums of the acoustic guitar playing in the background.

  The motion brings a cold breeze with it that sends goosebumps down my shoulder and spine. A chill I can’t ignore.

  The bartender’s ass doesn’t even touch the chair. Whoever it is has his full attention.

  As I lean down to reach for the cardigan laying on top of my purse, he puts up a finger and mouths, “One second.”

  The smile on my face is for him, but it falters when I hear the voice behind me.

  Everything goes quiet as the door shuts and I listen to them talking. My body tenses and my breath leaves me. Frozen in place, I can’t even slip on the cardigan as my blood runs cold.

  My heart skips one beat and then another as a rough laugh rises above the background noise of the small bar.

  “Yeah, I’ll take an ale, something local,” I hear Daniel say before he slips into view. I know it’s him. That voice haunted me for years. His strides are confident and strong, just like I remember them. And as he passes me to take a seat by the bar, I can’t take
my eyes off of him.

  He’s taller and he looks older, but the slight resemblance to Tyler is still there. As my heart learns its rhythm again, I notice his sharp cheekbones and my gaze drifts to his hard jaw, covered with a five o’clock shadow. I’d always thought of him as tall and handsome, albeit in a dark and brooding way. And that’s still true.

  He could fool you with his charm, but there’s a darkness that never leaves his eyes.

  His fingers spear through his hair as he checks out the beer options written in chalk on the board behind the bar. His hair’s longer on top than it is on the sides, and I can’t help but to imagine what it would feel like to grab on to it. It’s a fantasy I’ve always had.

  The timbre in his voice makes my body shudder.

  And then heat.

  I watch his throat as he talks, I notice the little movements as he pulls out a chair in the corner of the bar across from me. If only he would look my way, he’d see me.

  Breathe. Just breathe.

  My tongue darts out to lick my lips and I try to avert my eyes, but I can’t.

  I can’t do a damn thing but wait for him to notice me.

  I almost whisper the command, look at me. I think it so loud I’m sure it can be heard by every soul in this bar.

  And finally, as if hearing the silent plea, he looks my way. His knuckles rap the table as he waits for his beer, but they stop mid-motion when his gaze reaches mine.

  There’s a heat, a spark of recognition. So intense and so raw that my body lights, every nerve ending alive with awareness.

  And then it vanishes. Replaced with a bitter chill as he turns away. Casually. As if there was nothing there. As if he doesn’t even recognize me.