Emerge (38 page)

I suppress my growl and don’t move to wring his neck; I’m not a fool, this guy is freaking huge, but I’m about to lose it. “Just spit it out!” I bark before easing my voice back, not wanting an ass-beating. “Sorry, I mean, what
can
you tell me?”

“Well,” he says, scrubbing his chin, “why don’t you tell me about you and Laney first? Like, y’all together or what?”

What?
Why are we sitting here, virtual strangers, discussing my love life when all I want to do is make my precious girl some damn soup! “What? What kind of question is that?”

“I know you this much,” he indicates a small space between his finger and thumb, “and I adore Laney
and
my friends. So before I get balls deep in the bullshit, I want a little info. That too much to ask?” He raises his brows, no sign of compromise evident.

“Fine,” I sigh, “Laney and I have been best friends since…” I’m too distraught to do the math. “Well, since ever. Our senior year, I finally told her how I felt and got her to date me.” I smile at the thought. “But a second later, we had to leave for different schools.”

“That sucks,” he mutters.

“Yeah, to say the least.” I laugh at his simple, yet accurate, summation. “So we broke up, easier that way; or so Laney thought.” I shrug. “Anyway, things have pretty much sucked ass since then, and here I am.”

“Shit, man.” He leans over and runs his hands up and down his thighs. “Okay. You’re a good guy. I know this because Laney cares about you and has nothing but good things to say about you. So I’m gonna help you, and her, once and for all.” He stares at me, a deadly force in his eyes. “But know this. Keep your cool no matter what. You raise a hand to any friend of mine and I won’t hesitate to take your ass out. Capisce?”

I nod, to what I have no idea, really, but he’s my key to Laney. “Capisce.”

“Come on.” He stands and motions to the parking lot. “I’ll drive.”

Fifteen minutes into the most awkward silence and eerie car ride I’ve ever endured, Sawyer opens his phone. “Gotta make this call. Nothing personal,” he shrugs, “loyalties and all.”

WTF did he just say? I nod, completely lost, much like I’ve been doing since I ran into him.

“Hey, man, it’s Saw. Yeah, you too.” He’s listening to the person on the other end now. “Listen, about that…I’m on my way to your house right now. What? Oh yeah,” he laughs, “over that, dude. Saw my folks, got in, got out. Huh? Nah, she’s cool, but not gonna make the cut.” He laughs again, then glances over to me and quickly back to the road. “I’m gonna be at your house in less than 20, so shut the hell up and listen to me. Found Evan at the dorm when I got back and he convinced me to take him to Laney, so we’re on our way.”

There’s a long pause on his end of the conversation. His voice when he speaks again has an angry edge. “Fuck that, man, you know better. Last goddamn thing I want is to be involved, but somebody needs to man up or something, cause this is bullshit. Everyone involved is better than this.” Silence again, but I can hear a heated male voice coming through his phone. “Yeah, yeah, yeah….see ya in a bit.” He closes his phone and tosses it on the dashboard.

There’s tension leering in my body and this whole thing is too weird, so I speak up. “Is Laney okay? She’s not,” I gulp, “in danger or anything, is she?”

“Fuck no.” He looks over at me, his face relaxing. “Seriously, man, she’s fine. I wouldn’t let anybody hurt Laney. But I don’t envy you.”

My hackles go up instantly. “What does that mean?” I ground out.

“It means,” he starts, thinking about his next words carefully, “you wanted to see Laney, I’m taking you to Laney. Ain’t never been in love, thank fuck, but I can’t just do nothing. I’m just not made up like that. You do love her, right?”

“More than anything,” my mouth answers on its own.

“Thought so,” he sighs, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “We’re headed to Dane’s house. She’s there.”

My stomach rolls over and I wipe my hands down my face, hoping to squash the nausea. “Why?” I manage to ask.

Sawyer turns and gives me a dumbfounded look. “Why you think? You been away from her what, five, six months? She went on, Evan. She’s fucking hot.” He chuckles. “Sorry, man. But hell, she is, and cool, and real. Dane noticed. We all noticed, but those two clicked.”

Clicked?
Laney doesn’t “click” with other guys. Laney doesn’t care about guys and their pathetic come-ons. Right? My breathing is erratic at best. I quickly roll down my window, needing some fresh air, stat. We don’t speak again and soon pull up in the driveway of a mansion.
Fucker.

Palms sweaty, I take two swipes before getting the door open. My steps to the door feel like they’re taken with cinder blocks for shoes and despite spastic swallowing, my mouth is ashy. Sawyer reaches out to ring the doorbell as I shove my hands deep in my pockets, not wanting anyone to see them shake. The girl I recognize as Laney’s roommate answers the door, her eyes widening when she realizes who I am.

“H-Hey, Sawyer…Evan?” she stutters.

“Hey, Ben, go get Laney, would ya?” Thank God Sawyer’s able to speak, cause I sure as hell can’t.

Despite my head, my heart bounces and my breath catches as she comes around the corner. My princess, long blonde hair damp, beautiful body clad in silky pj pants and a tank top, walks towards me with surprise in her eyes. She chews her bottom lip and looks to Sawyer first. “Thought you went to your parents’ house?”

“Cut it short; Kirby got on my nerves.” He shrugs and opens his arms for her hug, but she doesn’t give it.

“I didn’t realize you were coming.” Her eyes narrow at him.

“I told Dane,” he says firmly.

She nods at him before closing her eyes and sucking in a deep breath. When she opens them, she meets my gaze dead on. “Hey, Evan,” she whispers.

“Hey.” I clear my throat loudly. “Surprise.”

She smiles, but it falls instantly. “Evan, I—” she shudders and stops, Dane moving in behind her, wrapping his arm possessively around her waist.

My eyes move to where their bodies connect, searing, before I look back at her. The chocolate brown symbols of my existence are filled with tears, begging to spill. They tell me everything I need to know, answering every question I can’t ask out loud. I shake my head, dismissing the flashing image of my happily ever after nose-diving and bursting in flames. She isn’t sick. She’s with Dane.
With
Dane. I lost. I left, and I lost.

I feel like I’m being gutted with a dull knife. I did a lot of things wrong, things I’m ashamed of, but I never gave my heart to another. My heart always waited for her and I took for granted that hers would do the same. With the last shred of strength and dignity I have left, I rip the shiny envelope from my back pocket. “Merry Christmas, princess,” I muster, shoving it into her hand.

In it, my transfer slip. I walked away from UGA and a full scholarship to sit the bench for a year of ineligibility at Southern…to be with her. I can’t change it now. I’ve been released; I’m as good as at Southern. When she opens it, will she come back to me? If she does, will it be for the right reasons? Would I ever know for sure?

“Evan, I—” her voice calls and then fades.

I don’t turn back to look. I’ll never know if she tried to come after me, Dane pulling her back, or she just let me keep walking. I don’t know if she’s crying or sighing in relief.

Sawyer falls into step beside me and throws his arm over my shoulder. “You a drinker?”

“Not really,” I mumble.

“Wanna be?”

“Fuck yes.”

“Thought so,” he chuckles, banging his hand on the hood. “Get in, bro, I’ll find ya a cure.”

I doubt it.

Acknowledgements

To my wonderful husband who brings me snacks while I’m typing away, cleans around me, surprises me with cool pens and notebooks and makes it possible for me to be exactly who I am—I adore you Jeff. You are my better three-fourths and I am lucky you continue to pick me.

To those two fabulous little girls wandering around calling me Mom—you guys are just the best! Thank you for seeking me out and demanding my attention, always remembering to kiss me goodnight. You guys are the greatest thing I’ve ever done and gotten exactly right! I hope in all my distracted absence lately that I’ve at least shown you to go for what you want…go for it full force and be grateful for those still waiting around for you when you reach the end.

To my CP, Angela—anyone who doesn’t believe in kindred spirits has yet to find their CP! This book wouldn’t be what it is, or even finished, with you. Thank you so much for all the calls, jam sessions, ideas and brutally honest feedback. Can’t wait to work our next books together!

All my friends and family, which I dare not name individually in fear of forgetting someone—thank you all so much! So many of you read version after version, ran over and let me read to you, made me copies, gave me pep talks, bought me “writer goodie packs” and accepted me for the bitchy author in the corner with the far off look in her eyes, not really paying attention to a word you’re saying.

Last but not least, thank you to my Lue for the inspiration. Since the minute you took a breath, you saved me and I have been in awe of you ever since. Your beauty, laugh, wit and ability to light up a room never leave me short of amazed. I am so damn proud to be your mom and have to admit; I’d kill to go back and be young again, as you. World wrapped around your little finger—that’s what you have. I never doubt you’ll always bounce back; vibrant, playful and charming…lovely and loved.

Playlist

“Big Green Tractor”—Jason Aldean

“Amazed”—Lonestar

“Ho Hey”—The Lumineers

“End of All Time”—Stars of Track & Field

“The Cave”—Mumford and Sons

“I’ll Be”—Edwin McCain

“9 Crimes”—Damien Rice

“Let’s Get Ready To Rumble”—Jock Jams

“This Year’s Love”—David Gray

“Hero”—Enrique Iglesias

“Flightless Bird”—Iron & Wine

“Collide”—Howie Day

“Talking To The Moon”—Bruno Mars     

Look for Book Two, Evan’s story, coming Fall 2013!

Here’s a sneak peek!

Chapter 1

~Evan~

M
y phone is burning a hole in my pocket. Ninety percent of me wants to respond to Laney’s text she’d sent about an hour ago, but the other ten percent, the shred that still has some dignity, is winning. I am definitely not qualified to write the manual on Plan B, Plan A being plunge head over ass into a year of ineligibility for said girl who is now with another, having blown up in my face. As much as I want an exact explanation, I simply can’t bear to hear it right now.

Sawyer’s a godsend, shoving beers in my hand and attracting every lady in the bar over to our table. He’s doing a better job than anyone else could at distracting me, including the brunette currently perched on my right leg…Manda? Mandy? She’s hot, with long, dark hair, full lips and huge tits that she’s not afraid to let play peek-a-boo. She even smells decent and her hands know no boundaries, but all I can think about is the one who got away; a beautiful blonde with a quick wit, smart mouth and devastating smile.

“Dude, you need another one?” Sawyer’s question drags me from my mental misery, and I’m almost sure he’s asking about another beer, not another girl.

“Sure,” I respond, with no feeling whatsoever. It’s sadly the correct answer no matter what he was asking.

“Want me to get it sugar?” M- whatever asks, with a syrup to her voice I just noticed, and don’t like.

“Two, Amy,” Sawyer directs her and hands her some money.

Amy?
Shit, I wasn’t even close. Good thing I hadn’t spoken to her, even once.

“She’s hot bro,” Sawyer raises his brows and motions to Amy with his head, to which I shrug noncommittally. “What is it, you need a blonde? I figured that’d be too much, but I can-“

I hold up a hand, cutting him off. “I appreciate it man, I do,” I stop and take a swig of beer, “but a parade of girls to choose from isn’t gonna help me tonight. I just need to crash, wake up to a new day. You think you can take me to my truck?”

“Nah, but you can bunk with me,” he throws some bills on the table and stands, “let’s go.”

While you’re waiting, be sure to check out

Inevitable
by Angela Graham

After experiencing a humiliating breakup, twenty-two-year-old Cassandra Clarke is fresh out of college and living a simple solitary life without any intentions of pursuing love anytime soon.

When the estate next door sells, the last thing Cassandra expects is the unnerving attraction she feels for her sinfully handsome neighbor, Logan West, the young and charming single father with a playboy reputation.

It’s through Oliver, Logan’s four-year-old son, who keeps popping up in her childhood tree house, that she slowly begins to catch glimpses of the compassionate and wounded man Logan has hidden beneath his strong exterior.

Cassandra knows it's wrong and that she's heading for another heartbreak.

Logan will never be able to give her what she wants…love