by LJ Evans
I followed and watched as Eli lit the briquettes. The smell sent my brain into a swirl of memories of parties that Dad had held at our home in Galveston. Parties for his fellow faculty members. Sometimes his favorite cadets. I’d never seen these three among them. That either meant he didn’t think they were connection-worthy, or it meant that they were smart enough to see Dad’s slime for what it was.
Greediness. A need to be connected to someone who would make a bid for some high-powered government position someday. Someone he could ride along with, like he’d once tagged along behind my grandfather. Before I could remember. Before my mom and grandparents had been taken away, leaving me with just Dad.
I hated that I couldn’t escape my thoughts of him today. I wanted so much to be free. Free of everything that was him.
I hopped up on the railing and slyly took a picture of Mr. Silent so that I could send it to Jenna later. She’d be all drool and no cool when I shared it. I already missed my best friend more than life. It was something I was going to have to get used to: life without Jenna beside me. Jenna was a typical Texas wildflower. Blonde. Blue-eyed. Perfectly done. She’d been my sanity since middle school, and now I was leaving her behind. I didn’t think she’d be surprised, but I knew she’d be as sad as I was.
Eli finished stoking the fire and then turned, stopping when he saw me on the rail. His eyes squinted together in disapproval. I wanted to laugh. He belonged in the military. He was going to be a natural.
“I don’t think you should be up there.” His voice was still deep and guttural. Maybe I brought it out in him, or maybe it was his natural tone. My body liked it even as my mind protested.
“Does what you think always matter?” I asked.
A flicker of emotion went through his eyes. He hid it well behind his control and authority. Maybe like I hid my torn heart behind my sass and music.
“Just not interested in picking up blood and bones today,” he said.
I looked down. Below me was the shell pathway that led out to the dock and the water. I wouldn’t even be there on the deck or on the rail if I’d had another choice.
The room I‘d sublet wouldn’t be ready until the end of the week, and I didn’t have enough money in my measly bank account to stay at a hotel and still pay my first month’s rent. So, I’d come here because Dad didn’t know that I knew that the renovations were done. That meant he wouldn’t think about coming here until he’d run out of the possibilities closer to home. I intended to be gone before he did.
Now, my plans were in jeopardy because of the arrival of three muscled men. Cadets who might tell their professor about the arrival of his wayward daughter. Apprehension filled me.
“How worried do I need to be?” he asked.
His voice at my side startled me. I hadn’t even heard him move. I wobbled on the rail, and he grabbed my waist before I could rebalance myself. His rough hands on my bare skin scorched me. They sent waves of desire and heat through my entire body, and when I met his eyes, I could see that it wasn’t just my body that had reacted to our touch.
He removed his hands, tucking them into the pockets of his cargo shorts. Shorts that didn’t seem to fit him as much as—I would bet good money—his uniform did. He backed away, taking my beer with him one more time.
“As long as you don’t sneak up on me, there’s nothing to worry about,” I said, jumping down.
“Then what are you running from?” he asked. I could feel those hazel eyes taking me in, but I just turned to the ocean. The humidity filled the air and my lungs with every breath. Like it was a part of me. Part of this life that I was trying to leave behind. Weighing me down when I needed to be light so that I could fly away.
“A future that isn’t mine,” I said, looking back at him.
I could tell he was considering my words, assessing them. As if that was something he did with every comment anyone made. Careful consideration. Planning.
Mac made it out to the deck with a pile of burgers. He handed another beer to Eli, eyeing the one on the barbecue that Eli had taken from me, and then went to work at the grill.
“So, Ava, is Daddy going to show up pissed at the three of us?” Mac asked without looking at me.
I didn’t blame him for asking. It was more than just the standard, “don’t get involved with the professor’s kid.” Dad’s reputation for reprisals was well-known and well-earned.
“I figure we have a couple days before he even thinks I might be here. He’ll want to exert the least amount of energy possible in order to retrieve me, so he’ll call before he shows up,” I told them honestly, hoping they wouldn’t rat me out.
“You’re not staying here,” Eli spoke up from his position leaning up against the doorframe.
I laughed, thinking he was joking, but then I saw his serious expression, and I knew he wasn’t. I wondered if he ever joked about anything. “Look, jerk, this is my house, not yours. You can’t kick me out. If you don’t like that I’m here, then run along and get yourself a hotel.”
“I told Professor Abrams that we’d paint the house,” Eli said matter-of-factly.
“You can still do that while staying at a hotel,” I responded.
Mac shifted uncomfortably.
They didn’t have the money either. Staying in a hotel at the beach in the middle of the prime summer season was unlikely to be anything that three measly cadets could afford.
I just let the whole subject drop, but Eli was still watching me, waiting to see what I’d do. I just watched Mac at the grill.
The burgers smelled good. And I was hungry. I hadn’t had anything since the caramel latte I’d grabbed at the gas station after making my escape. Food hadn’t been on my list of priorities. Getting away had.
My stomach growled loudly enough for both the guys on the deck to hear it. Mac smiled, Eli almost smiled, and I chuckled.
“You going to try and kick me out before you feed me?” I asked.
They weren’t kicking me out. They didn’t know how stubborn I could be, but they’d find out. I wasn’t planning on going to blows or anything—not that I could ever hope to fight off three muscled guys—but I wasn’t going to be around enough for them to argue about it with me.
“Nah. You can eat with us,” Mac said. I could tell Eli didn’t like it. He wanted me gone. He didn’t want me anywhere near their beach adventure regardless of how our bodies had reacted when he’d had his hands on my waist.
I didn’t really want me anywhere near them either. For many of the same reasons.
Truck joined us on the deck.
“Tots are ready.”
“Did you burn them to a crisp again?” Mac asked.
“No, wedgie-face, they’re appropriately crisp.”
“I didn’t know cooking tater tots required a culinary degree,” I teased, trying to lighten the mood. Lighten the heaviness inside me.
Truck gave me a serious look. “Tater tots are an art form, honey. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
I laughed, and he pretended to look offended.
No one said anything when I joined them in making up a burger and scooping tots from the pan. I was the first one to make it back out to the deck, and I found a spot on the top of the table. All three men stopped at the door when they saw me there.
I’d always felt more comfortable on top of things. It drove my dad crazy when I’d sit on the coffee table instead of the couch. Or the back of the couch instead of the cushions. Maybe that’s what had encouraged it. Pushing the limits on the little things that I could get away with without being reprimanded.
None of the guys said anything. They just found seats in the chairs. So predictable. I’d give my right arm to find a guy someday who would join me atop the table. Like Michael Schoeffling with Molly Ringwald in Sixteen Candles that Jenna had made me watch. I didn’t consider myself a romantic. And I definitely didn’t want to find love yet, like Jenna had, because I had bigger plans for myself
. But someday…someday, I’d love to find someone who would see things, even momentarily, the way I did.
The guys were a quiet group. It was something I was unaccustomed to. The boys I was usually around were rowdy and obnoxious, striving to gain attention and top-dog status at a high school that was considered the next coming of God. But really, they were all bottom dwellers. More reasons for me to not want anything romantic with any of them.
I’d take this silence over the stupid teen jokes any day of the week. Plus, I guessed these men were used to being silent during mealtimes. Military code everywhere they went at school. Not exactly your normal American college experience.
Once I was done, I slid down and brought my plate back to the kitchen. I could hear their hushed conversation but not the words. Even so, I knew it was about me.
I cleaned up the kitchen a bit as a thank-you for the meal and then walked back to the doorway. Their conversation halted.
“Well, it’s been nice Mac Truck and Mr. Grumpy, but I’m outta here. I’ll catch you later.”
I grabbed my slouch handbag, my guitar, and my phone and headed out the door. I could feel their eyes on me when I got into my car and did a three-point turn to get around the black truck parked behind me, using the seagrass as a drive-way and probably leaving tire tracks where Dad wouldn’t want them.
I rolled down the windows, waved my hand, and drove toward town. They didn’t know, but “later” was going to be tonight when I needed a place to crash my head. I didn’t have a choice about it, but for now, they could think I was gone.
Keep reading for FREE in Kindle Unlimited or buy now:
GUARDED DREAMS
http://bit.ly/GuardedAMZ
Thanks again for reading the Album series. At the beginning of the box set, if you even saw it, I told you I didn’t want to fill your head with my social media sites, accolades, and other books because I wanted you to read the stories and then decide how you felt about me and my words. I hope that you loved every single one of the journeys these characters went on. I hope their strength and resiliency along with my mix of songs and story burned a memory into your soul that you will think of every time you hear one of the songs from now on.
We talk about music, books, and just what it takes to get us through this crazy thing called life a lot in my Facebook reader’s group, LJ’s Music & Stories. If you do nothing else with the links here, I hope you join that group. I hope that we can help YOU through your life in some small way.
I know that there are thousands (really millions) of books for you to choose from, so I am honored that you chose to spend a portion of your life with some of my book babies. If you liked it, I’d be honored if you took another moment (or two) to write a review on Amazon, Goodreads, or BookBub, but even more than that, I hope you enjoyed it enough to tell a friend about it.
Finally, I just wanted to say that my wish for you is a healthy and happy journey. May you live life resiliently. With hope and love. I truly hope to hear from you!
Love Your New Friend,
LJ EVANS
♫ where music & stories collide ♫
Website
Bookbub
Amazon
Goodreads
Facebook
Instagram
Pinterest
Twitter
This box set was a long time in the making. Not only did it take me a long time to write the books, but it took me even longer to write the bonus material, This Life with Cam. I knew what I wanted Blake’s story to say, but I had a hard time writing it for some reason. Maybe because it felt like I was saying goodbye to all of them as I did it. Like I wouldn’t see dear friends anymore.
Then, I decided to write My Life as a Holiday Album, and suddenly the words for Blake’s short were there. I could breathe enough to write them. I hope you liked the little extra look into his and Cam’s life together.
The characters and scenarios in these books are fiction and made for entertainment purposes, but I hope they felt like people you might be friends with in real life. They are all flawed. Struggling. Trying to find love and success. Trying to make new dreams come true. I hope that some of their stories resonated with you.
Many of the stories have difficult medical, mental, or social issues weaved through their pages. Because of this, I wanted to provide you with a list of resources for many of the topics:
American Diabetes Association at https://www.diabetes.org
Resources for victims of stalking: http://victimsofcrime.org/our-programs/stalking-resource-center/help-for-victims
The Suicide Prevention Hotline FREE - 24 hours a day at 1-800-273-TALK. (8255).
The Suicide Prevent Hotline CHAT https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/
Nonprofit Counselor connection for any crisis: The Crisis Text Line (741741)
The Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA) 24-hour National Helpline, 1-800-662-HELP (4357)
SAMHSA website: https://www.samhsa.gov/ .
Child Protective Services (CPS) - Google CPS and your location.
Thank you so much for reading my story, my words, and making my characters your dear friends for a short time. XO
I’m so very grateful for every single person who has helped me on this book journey. If you’re reading these words, you ARE one of those people. Even if all you did was read my words, it’s important to me. I’m grateful to you for reading the stories that I can’t help but write. So, THANK YOU!
My daughter and my husband have continued to not only listen for hours and hours about my stories and characters and this complicated book world, but have encouraged me—multiple times—not to give up. Thank you for our life together and the love you give me.
My sister and my parents have always my biggest defenders and fans. Thank you for celebrating with me and lifting me up when things get tough.
I don’t know what I’d do without the people who I am lucky enough to have as part of my publishing team. Megan Keith at Designed with Grace, you are much more than my cover designer, you are a true friend and partner. Jenn Lockwood at Jenn Lockwood Editing Services, I will forever be grateful that you read Country Album and then reached out to me in order to make it all it should be. Karen Hdrlicka, thank you for ensuring the final version of my books are beautiful. Michelle Odland, Leisa Ann Cooksy, and Stefani Zertuche, I am so grateful for your help on a daily basis in LJs Music & Stories, but also in helping me everywhere you turn by celebrating my books.
To each and every one of the bloggers who have shared my stories with the world on your own time and your own dime, I cannot say enough. Thank you also to those of you that reach out to me on a regular basis including: Rachel at NovelMomma, Launa at Energy Rae, Ashleigh at Page Once Turned, Candyce at The Book Dutchesses, Heather at Books and a Blanket, Stacie at Boren Books, Korrie the Curlyhairlass, and Shonte at Boss Book Babes.
To the other independent authors who have helped keep me sane, including Clare Lesbirel, Jami Albright, Mia Kayla, Annie Dyer, Kelsey Kingsley, Amanda Johnson, Maria Luis, Stephanie Rose, Kacey Shea, Erika Kelly, Dakota Willink, Jennifer Hanks, and Sophia Peony, I have not enough words. Thank you and virtual hugs to all of you.
Thank you to Amy Harmon and Jessica Park for not only inspiring me with your words but with your kindness and generosity. Every time I read your stories; I’m encouraged to make mine better. Your talent truly blows me away.
To those readers who I’ve come to know personally, thank you for encouraging me to continue this book adventure. Michelle Fritz, Dee Shelvey Zilpha, Lisa, Emily, Misty, Tara and Melissa, thank you for sticking with me even when Country Album tore you apart before putting you back together.
I love you all!
Award winning author, LJ Evans, lives in the California Central Valley with her husband, daughter, and the terrors called cats. She's been writing, almost as a compulsion, since she was a little girl and will often pull the car over to write when
a song lyric strikes her. While she currently spends her days teaching 1st grade in a local public school, she spends her free time reading and writing, as well as binge-watching original shows like The Crown, Victoria, Veronica Mars, and Stranger Things.
If you ask her the one thing she won’t do, it’s pretty much anything that involves dirt—sports, gardening, or otherwise. But she loves to write about all of those things, and her first published heroine was pretty much involved with dirt on a daily basis, which is exactly why LJ loves fiction novels—the characters can be everything you’re not and still make their way into your heart.
Her debut novel, MY LIFE AS A COUNTRY ALBUM, was the Independent Author Network's 2017 YA Book of the Year. For more information about LJ and her books, check out at any of these sites:
LJ Evans Books
Bookbub
Amazon
Goodreads
Facebook
Twitter
Instagram
Pinterest
My Life as an Album Series
My Life as a Country Album — April 2017
My Life as a Pop Album — January 2018
My Life as a Rock Album — June 2018
My Life as a Mixtape — November 2018
My Life as an Album Series Box Set – March 2020
My Life as a Holiday Album – December 2020
Standalone - Anchor Novels
Guarded Dreams — Eli & Ava, May 2019
Forged by Sacrifice — Mac & Georgie, October 2019
Avenged by Love — Truck & Jersey, April 2020
Damaged Desires — Dani & Nash, October 2020
Branded by Love — Brady O’Neil, coming in 2021
Unmasked Dreams — Violet & Dawson, coming in 2021
Coming in Some Dream World When LJ Has Enough Time
Untitled, magical realism — contemporary romance
Down on 4th – Historical Fiction
