by W. Winters
Not My Heart to Break
W Winters
Copyright © 2020 by W Winters
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover Design: Lori Jackson Design
Contents
Also by W Winters
Hard to Love
Longing to Hold, prelude to Hard to Love
1. Laura
2. Seth
3. Laura
4. Seth
Hard to Love Prologue
5. Thirteen months prior
6. Laura
7. Seth
8. Laura
9. Seth
10. Laura
11. Seth
12. Laura
13. Seth
14. Laura
15. Seth
16. Laura
17. Seth
18. Laura
19. Seth
20. Laura
21. Seth
22. Laura
23. Seth
Desperate to Touch
Authors note
Prologue
24. Seth
25. Laura
26. Seth
27. Laura
28. Seth
29. Laura
30. Seth
31. Laura
32. Seth
33. Laura
34. Seth
35. Laura
36. Seth
37. Laura
38. Seth
39. Laura
40. Seth
41. Laura
42. Laura
43. Seth
Tempted to Kiss
Dedication
Prologue
44. Laura
45. Seth
46. Laura
47. Seth
48. Laura
49. Seth
50. Laura
51. Seth
52. Laura
53. Seth
54. Laura
55. Seth
56. Laura
57. Seth
58. Laura
59. Seth
60. Laura
61. Seth
62. Laura
Easy to Fall
Foreword
Prologue
63. Laura
64. Laura
65. Laura
66. Seth
67. Laura
68. Seth
69. Laura
70. Seth
71. Laura
72. Seth
73. Laura
74. Seth
75. Laura
76. Seth
77. Laura
78. Seth
79. Seth
80. Laura
81. Seth
82. Laura
83. Seth
84. Laura
85. Seth
Sneak Peek at All He’ll Ever Be
Chapter 1
Also by W Winters
About W Winters
Also by W Winters
Merciless World
A Kiss to Tell
Possessive
Seductive
Merciless
Heartless
Breathless
Endless
All He’ll Ever Be
A Kiss To Keep
A Single Glance
A Single Kiss
A Single Touch
Hard to Love
Desperate to Touch
Tempted to Kiss
Easy to Fall
This Love Hurts
Merciless World Spin Off
It’s Our Secret
Standalone Novels:
Broken
Forget Me Not
Sins and Secrets Duets:
Imperfect (Imperfect Duet book 1)
Unforgiven (Imperfect Duet book 2)
Damaged (Damaged Duet book 1)
Scarred (Damaged Duet book 2)
Willow Winters
Standalone Novels:
All I Want is a Kiss
Tell Me To Stay
Second Chance
Knocking Boots
Promise Me
Burned Promises
Forsaken, cowritten with B. B. Hamel
Collections
Don’t Let Go
Deepen The Kiss
Kisses and Wishes
Valetti Crime Family Series:
Dirty Dom
His Hostage
Rough Touch
Cuffed Kiss
Bad Boy
Highest Bidder Series,
cowritten with Lauren Landish:
Bought
Sold
Owned
Given
Bad Boy Standalones,
cowritten with Lauren Landish:
Inked
Tempted
Mr. CEO
Happy reading and best wishes,
W Winters xx
Hard to Love
Hard to Love
by W Winters
She was too good for this world. I was too much of a bastard to push her away.
I grew up in this life, and now I run these streets. Blood and violence taint everything I touch.
Everything but her. She was my constant through it all.
Just a touch would singe and soothe.
Just a look would tempt and torment.
She became my escape and my addiction.
I only survived because she was by my side.
I should’ve known better than to indulge.
I should’ve known better than to let her fall for me.
It was only a matter of time before the danger bled into what we had.
I was Laura’s downfall. Problem was, she was mine too.
Longing to Hold, prelude to Hard to Love
Longing to Hold, prelude to Hard to Love
Laura
Laura
Our eyes met for a fraction of a second. If that. It was in passing.
Him on one end of the cafeteria, and I at the other.
The clatter of trays hitting the table in our high school cafeteria and even louder chatter and laughter of everyone else faded. The sounds weren’t even worthy of white noise; it all disappeared.
I felt him, his hands on me; I knew they’d be rough and possessive. His lips hit mine, hot and full of hunger, as if he’d been deprived of my touch. I could feel the hard blocks of the cylinder walls in this school against my back as he pushed me against it. I could hear the soft moans and heavy breathing I’d give to him the second his lips left mine and he peered deeply into my gaze.
Staring down at my tray, I can only hope my cheeks aren’t as red as they are hot. It’s hard to swallow, but I do. The perfectly red apple, with no bruises or nicks holds absolutely no desire for me to eat any longer, but I bite into it again, not tasting a damn thing and keep my head down.
I could look up, to see if he noticed, but Seth King’s table is full of other students, his crew as I’ve dubbed them, and mine is empty. One look and someone would see me staring at him; there’s no one here to hide me or my sordid thoughts.
So I keep my head down and avoid the gazes of everyone else. Just like I’ve been doing for weeks now. Ever since my Dad died.
My throat’s tight, it does that when I think of my father, and I nearly choke on the small piece of apple. The juice of it goes down the wrong way and I pretend that’s why my eyes sting.
I’m dealing with the loss poorly and ev
erything that happened just before it. I’m certain that’s why everyone avoids me now.
It didn’t used to be like this, I was never the popular girl, but I wasn’t a pariah either, so that must be it. I’ve become an emotional wreck so now everyone keeps their distance. It seems fitting enough.
It’s been weeks and only Cami talks to me since the car crash. Everyone else lets me be. I don’t blame them. The smallest of questions, even a wave, is met with a delayed response, because my mind was elsewhere, or worse. I’ve cried out of nowhere, more times than I can count. So they leave me alone. I’m grateful, because it’s embarrassing and I hate it. I hate how weak mourning has made me.
Everyone lets me be… except for Seth King.
That has to be why I’m thinking of him like I am. All of the thoughts of what he’d do to me.
He doesn’t talk to me, really. He doesn’t do anything but walk me home. I didn’t ask him to and at first I didn’t want him there. I don’t need an audience for my grieving and no one owes me anything. Whether he knew my father or not. I told him just that, but it didn’t deter him and to be honest, a piece of me was grateful that there was someone there.
When the school bell rings and all my text books are swept up and safely zippered into my back pack, I know he’ll be there. Waiting for me as if he’s supposed to be there. He doesn’t even know me; not like that.
He doesn’t tell me he’ll be there, but I know when I walk out of the double back doors of the gym, feeling the cool autumn hair sweep my hair behind my neck, Seth will be standing at the edge of the parked cars. Which is directly in my walking path home.
Above everything else, the moment those doors swing open, l can hear his voice when he’s talking to one of his friends. Lately they’ve been there, surrounding him when I get out.
I know the crowd of his friends, although I had no idea they even knew my name until recently. Everyone knows them. They have a certain reputation.
They’re the boys who are trouble. I know Derek and all the things people say he does. Seth is their ring leader. That’s a good way to put it.
Before I’ve even taken a step out of the school building, I can hear Seth’s voice and most times, he glances through the people around him and sees me.
They usually disperse before I get there, but sometimes they’re still talking. Especially Derek, he doesn’t seem to get the hint like the others do.
I’m not the kind of girl to allow a man to tell me anything. Certainly not Seth. I listened though. Not a piece of me wanted to be alone on the way home. All the evidence of how low my life had gotten was waiting for me. So I let him. He stands right at the entrance to the field, where the gap in the fence was made so anyone living on the north side of town could walk through. Students like me.
I go to him; he walks me home. It’s as simple as that.
But last week, his crew was talking and I didn’t want to be a part of it. I didn’t need Seth to walk me home and I definitely didn’t need to wait around for him. I thought, I’m strong enough and I’ve had enough of Seth acting like my babysitter or whatever he thinks this is. I’m not one of them and I don’t need to be a burden.
I walked around Derek and Seth, not wanting to interrupt their conversation and not wanting to anticipate that he was waiting for me. Even though he’d been doing it every day; I wanted to make it clear that I didn’t assume it was going to last forever and, more importantly, that I didn’t need him to. I didn’t need his sympathy or whatever it was that convinced him he should be watching over me like he did.
After all, I barely know him. I know of him. It’s different. His crew is older and seniors. I’m only a sophomore.
Their father’s run the gang, if that’s what it’s called?, that my father was a part of.
I’m just the lonely girl Seth has to baby sit, I think. Maybe his father told him to do it, as a favor to my now dead father; I don’t know. I don’t care either.
So last week when I saw that their conversation wasn’t coming to an end, I decided, if he’s busy, I go about my business, refusing to be the inconvenience I knew I was.
Seth didn’t like it, though. He didn’t like me walking around them. He didn’t like that I didn’t wait.
I know that he didn’t because of the way he yelled out my name. It was deep and full of irritation. The little hairs at the back of my neck stood up and it wasn’t because of the chill that comes at the end of October.
I couldn’t even look over my shoulder at him. Instead I stood there, frozen, for only a moment, watching the tall grass woven between the posts of the white fence waving in the breeze. And then my right foot moved and my left. I kept my head down and continued forward.
He wasn’t the boss of me and he still hadn’t given me a reason he was doing all of this. I still don’t know for certain.
So I kept walking. None of them owe me anything. Regardless if they were close to my father or not. If they want to help because my Dad worked with them, they can send money or something, I’m sure my Grandmother could use the help with the bills.
At least that’s what my thought was, when I ignored him yelling after me.
Until his strong arm came from behind, wrapping around my lower belly. His forearm was solid against my hip and my back hit his chest.
“Wait for me, Babygirl,” he whispered although his tone was rough and demanding. Babygirl. The name is probably inconsequential to him. I bet he calls a lot of girls that three syllable nickname. It hit me hard though, like it meant more. It’s like a memory you can’t place. When it feels so familiar and comforting, but you don’t know why. That’s what his harshly spoken whisper, almost a reprimand, did to me. The girl I used to be, wouldn’t have tolerated it before. But that girl is long gone, and she took my will with her.
Seth’s breath was warm on my neck. It travelled lower even through the cold. His hand lingered, it had slipped through my cardigan and his thumb brushed the exposed skin there, as my shirt underneath rode up.
It was maybe a third of minute, all of twenty achingly long seconds of him standing next to me, his heat enveloping me. I swear he’s hotter than everyone else.
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak and it’s then that I noticed the other guys, most certainly Derek, must be right behind me. I felt their presence. They followed too and they were close enough for me to hear although they whispered. The few students who walked around us stared. Great, I thought, now I’ve made a scene.
I heard Derek’s voice, that’s what made me turn around to face all of them, something about having a good night, but he said my name with it. Have a good night, Laura. That’s all it was. Derek’s first words to me, casual and seemingly innocuous.
I was going to say, you too, like a normal person, even if it was weird that he’d speak to me. He never had before. But when I turned, Seth was there, too close, and with a look in his eyes I didn’t care for. Concern, disappointment, maybe something else too when his gaze met mine.
It’s been 34 days since the first time he walked me home. I count because I’m waiting for it to end.
Only 22 of those 34 days he actually walked me home. 22 days of him by my side every step of the way after school. The weekends I’ve been alone to obsess over the change in events.
And 7 days since that day I can’t shake, when I disappointed him. When he called me Babygirl. It was last Thursday. And here I am, still wondering about it, replaying it and debating on where I should stand today if they’re talking again. I won’t walk off, because I don’t want him to look at me like that again.
It’s a foolish reason, but I know it to be true.
So all of this. This sexual tension between us, I know I’ve made it up in my mind. It’s embarrassing and I hate it. If there was anything at all between us, he would have made that clear. He doesn’t even speak to me apart from occasional niceties when we walk the fifteen minutes to my grandmother’s townhouse. Nothing. And if I know anything about Seth, if he wanted me in anyway,
he would have been damn clear about that.
I’m just a girl who lost her father, and Seth is a boy who feels the need to make sure I’m okay because he knew my father. I’m sure that’s all this is. But my mind wants it to be more.
