Love Resisted (Entwined Hearts #2)

BOOK: Love Resisted (Entwined Hearts #2)
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Maria Macdonald

 

 

Love Resisted

An Entwined Hearts Novel Book Two

 

Maria Macdonald

 

Copyright 2015 Maria Macdonald

All Rights Reserved

 

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, organisations 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.

 

 

Editing by
Swish Design & Editing

Formatting by
Swish Design & Editing

Cover design by
Francessca’s Romance Reviews

Cover image Copyright 2015

 

This book is dedicated to every single person who read and loved my first book, Love Reflection. To everyone who supported me by reviewing, promoting, and by telling their friends about it. Anyone who sent me a message saying how much they loved it or just commented or liked a post. Every single bit of support means the world.

You have made my dreams come true, so this book is dedicated to you!

 

The following is a glossary of terms which have been used throughout this book. These euphemisms and slang words form part of the UK spoken word, which is the basis of this book’s writing style.

Please remember that the words are not misspelled, they are slang terms and are part of the every day, English lifestyle. This book has been written using UK English and spelling.

If you would like further explanation, or to discuss the translation or meaning of a particular word. Please do not hesitate to contact the author – contact details have been provided, for your convenience, at the end of this book.

I hope you enjoy a look into the English way of life.

 

Paramedic
– EMT.

Numpty

Someone who (sometimes unwittingly) by speech or action demonstrates a lack of knowledge or misconception of a particular subject or situation to the amusement of others
.
 

 

Watching them warms my heart. It also chills me to the bone. I do my duty and try to be the best kind of friend I can be. Smiling when I’m supposed to and joining in with the conversation. It’s not that I don’t want to see them happy. I do. One hundred percent. Watching Con and Pea after all these years finally sort themselves out and get together, that’s the part that warms me. Seeing them interact with Dane and Saul, smiling and happy. My family. That also warms me. I’m so pleased that Pea has found blood family, something that she’s felt was missing since her gran passed. It’s even funny to watch Dane and Saul together. To see them try and interact with each other. It’s clear they both need and want this, to be a part of one another’s lives, but they are also both very stubborn and I feel like there’s something holding them back. Something that’s telling them they shouldn’t be in one another’s lives and that they shouldn’t
want
to be. It means they are both on the cusp of happy, but not quite there yet.

I’m glad Con’s back. I missed him. There was a hole in all our lives when Con was overseas and Saul was in the hospital, now everybody is back again and the picture is complete. Like the puzzle is precisely where it should be at this moment in time.

The idea of being in the same situation as Pea and Con, the thought of being in a relationship with someone and that I would willingly give that person the ability to destroy me, well that part chills me to the bone.

There are two people in this room that I have at one point or another loved. Maybe the ferocity of the love has been different but even so, there are only the two men that I’ve ever felt that way about. And they are both sitting in this room.
And they are brothers.

It’s not that I’m cold. I wouldn’t be like that. Fuck. Maybe I am cold? Maybe that’s entirely the problem. Maybe I’m exactly what she always said I would be? Maybe I’m worthless and maybe…just maybe, I’ve turned into her.

 

I crane my neck and push my shoulders back, pulling myself in awkward directions. This is not comfortable, there’s
nothing
pleasant about this pose.

Managing to move slightly so I’m able to gaze out of the window, I can see the sky in the distance. It’s not much. However, it’s a better sight than the brick wall I was looking at. My neck is now at a weird angle, it’s not natural. My arms are behind my back like they have been bound by tape, but there’s no tape on my arms. No. The tape is across my breasts, which are currently trying to dislodge themselves. I feel like a fucking Christmas turkey wrapped and ready to be basted.

There was a time that I loved this, to be in front of the camera. I loved people looking at me and being the centre of attention. It made me feel beautiful. Now…now, I don’t really know how it makes me feel. The whole thing leaves me kind of hollow, I’m sick of being gawked at. It’s not that I’m shy of the attention, I don’t feel ashamed or embarrassed. It’s just I used to relish the attention. As a matter of fact I’d welcome it. Always wanting people to look at me, to take notice. Nowadays, not so much.

I don’t hate my job, not really. I just don’t get the same thrill out of it that I used to, which makes it seem kind of pointless. I’m still in demand though. Not for me, of course, it’s just my body they want. Still, I’m not complaining. I have a body that most women would love. I’m not trying to be egotistical, it’s just how I’m seen, how I’ve always been seen. I’m sure they think I have no brains and tar me with the stereotypical brush. But it’s not like I’m entering Mensa any time soon, so they’re probably not far wrong. I’ve heard whispers that I have
‘Daddy issues’
that’s why I jump from guy to guy. If I believed in therapy, I might find out they are right. I mean he’s been gone for so long, and he left me with
her
.

One thing I do know is that this used to make me feel beautiful. It’s not that it doesn’t make me feel
beautiful
anymore, it’s just that it doesn’t make me feel
anything
anymore. I don’t need it to bolster my confidence or to help beat back my insecurities. I don’t have any insecurities these days. Okay, so that’s a lie. Of course, I’m insecure. It’s just that my job helped stem the insecurities I have that relate to men. All of my other insecurities have always been there and my job isn’t getting rid of them anytime soon. But men and my job have made me feel beautiful. I’ve had a few men come and go over the years, mainly going by my choice, sometimes by theirs. I’ve only ever formed an attachment to two men, other than my dad, in my whole life.

With one of them we had a mutual agreement, one where we fucked but nothing else. I broke that agreement and that ended a while ago. The other one is more complicated. I fell in love with him during my youth. I loved him for many years. But nothing ever happened between us. I’m not really sure why. There were always times when I felt like something was going to happen, but things always got in the way, even though I tried my hardest to make him see me.

 

The phone rang and I grabbed it before my mother could, knowing that she’d be pissed off if it was one of my friends. The only thing she cared about was herself and she hated any disturbances, especially when she was entertaining.

“Hey you,” Pea said.

“Hey girl,” I answered trying to muster as much enthusiasm as possible. I’d had a verbal battering from my mother since I’d gotten home from school and so was feeling fragile.

“So, what are you wearing to the disco tonight?”

“Oh shit,” I said and slapped my forehead with my palm. “Its tonight, isn’t it? I’d forgotten.”

“Well, we’ve only got an hour until it starts,” Pea said with a tut. She knew how long it took me to get ready.

“Shit, shit, shit…I’m going to have to go upstairs and see if there’s anything suitable in my wardrobe! Ugh! I hate being rushed!” I whined.

“Get over yourself, Soph. You could wear a bin bag and you’d still have the boys drooling like little puppy dogs at your feet. Don’t forget it’s me you’re talking to…I know, I’ve seen them!” she giggled and a laugh broke out of me. She was right. One thing I had was confidence. It had only grown because guys always wanted to date me or be my boyfriend. It wasn’t really true confidence from within. Not that anyone would notice that subtle difference in me at sixteen.

Even so, I wasn’t ugly. I was, however, picky. There was always that special someone on my mind. It’s just he’d never really noticed me.

“Listen Pea. Let me go and get ready, and I’ll come round to your house in a while. Say an hour?”

“That sounds like a plan,” she replied.

“”What time does it start?” I asked.

“Seven.”

“Okay, well, it’s a quarter past six now, and let’s be honest if it starts at seven we don’t want to arrive until eight at the earliest. So why don’t you give the guys a call and see if they want to meet up and head there together?”

“Okay,” she answered quickly. “I’ll call Con.”

I chuckled. “Yeah, I thought you might. See you in a bit,”

I knew Pea would be straight on the phone to Con. He was her boyfriend, and one corner of our foursome.

I sat still and stared into space thinking about nothing and everything all at once. I wanted to look beautiful that night, for him. For Saul. The last one of our foursome. Not that he would probably notice. Still it was worth a try. Choosing a lycra dress from my wardrobe and pulling it on in front of the mirror a frown crossed my face. Lycra dresses were still in fashion, right? Hell, it didn’t matter if they weren’t. It clung to every inch of my body. He was going to notice me, I would make damn sure of it!

 

“Sophia!” the photographer shouts. “Focus!”

I turn my head back to the wall and stare at the red bricks again. I hate that they insist on calling me Sophia. It’s not because I don’t like it. It’s because my name is Sophie. However, apparently Sophia is more appealing. I’m sick of this shit, of bending myself to their will. I can understand the need when it comes to the modelling, they have a look that must be met, even if it means wearing fucking duct tape over your tits. But the name, I’ve always felt it’s a step too far. Like I’m not good enough as Sophie. Shit, maybe I’m getting my period. Maybe I’m just feeling hormonal.

“Okay, we’re done for tonight,” the photographer calls out and in a flash he’s gone. Leaving twenty lackeys to clean up the shoot. I stare after him forgetting his name. It’s something like Ricardo or Slone, something stupid that escapes my memory. It doesn’t matter anyway, it’s a fake name. His real name is Bob. He just doesn’t think that name suits the industry – too boring. Plus, he is a pretentious pig.

I’ve always wanted Saul to photograph me. He won’t shoot models, not even me, he says we’re all too flighty and self-obsessed. I can’t say he’s wrong. Maybe that’s why he’s never looked at me in any other way than as a friend.

 

“Hey guys,” I said smiling as we saw Con and Saul standing at the bus stop, where we told them to meet us. Then my face dropped as I saw Stacey and Ellie behind them, along with Rob, Jason, Ryan and Scott. So much for going as a foursome. When we got nearer I noticed Stacey had sidled up to Saul, and Ellie was all over Scott. Although he looked scared shitless.

Apparently the skanks were finally getting the message that Con was off limits. He was devoted to Pea, anyone could see that. Hopefully, those two had also put their glasses on finally and seen the light! Saul looked over at me, but I couldn’t read his expression. All I saw was Stacey from the corner of my vision, her hand snaking up his chest. I just smiled and looked away before my face told him my story.

“Hey,” I heard from next to me and looked over to see Jason smiling. He was a good looking lad, not short of admirers. Blond ruffled hair, blue eyes and tall, with a gorgeous physique. He had never been my thing, as I kind of had a type – Saul – dark not blond. Still, I wanted to enjoy my evening. As Jason slung his arm over my shoulder, I risked a quick glance at Saul, who had a scowl on his face, but my focus was solely on Stacey whispering in his ear. So that night, I concentrated on Jason and put all thoughts of Saul out of my mind. That was the last night I still had a sense of hope. That hope never came back. Not until recently.

 

“Sophie, come here and let me remove the tape,” Eric, one of the costume designers shouts from across the room. I roll my eyes but make my way over to him. I love Eric. He always tries to look after me and having worked together for years, he just gets me.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me, Missy?” he asks with his hand on his hip. It’s comical that he’s always called me Missy like a naughty schoolchild. He is, without a doubt, much naughtier than I’ve ever been. I look down on him, at five-foot-ten I’m the taller of the two of us.

“No, Eric. Would I do a thing like that?” I grin.

“Hmmm,” is all he says. Then he spins around and walks into the huge changing room expecting me to follow. My feet automatically take me to him.

“Okay, arms up Missy, and let me take this monstrosity off your body. Why they had to go with this look, I’ll never know? I did try to convince them otherwise, but they think they know best. It’s not like Eric’s been in this industry for twenty years. It’s not like I didn’t help design some of the biggest shoots in British history. What does Eric know, huh?”

I let him ramble. If I interrupt him, it will mean he’ll start from the beginning again and, to be honest, I just want to get home now. Although the thought of home doesn’t make me feel comforted anymore. I kind of feel like a third wheel with Pea and Con. They always try to include me, but when their minds wander to other things it can get a bit awkward. So, lately I spend a lot of time in my bedroom…on my own.

I don’t resent their reconnection. Quite the opposite, in fact. I’ve been hoping that they’d get their shit together for years. It’s just leaving me feeling a little like an outsider in my own home. And as much as I appreciated Pea dragging me here to live after the attack, now they’re back together and having a baby, my gut is telling me that I need to move out. Although, I’m not sure that I’m ready to be on my own again.

“What is it, Soph? You haven’t been listening to a word I’ve said, and you know that usually means I’ll start over. Although today, Eric is feeling too worn out to repeat anything. But don’t misinterpret that, I’m never too worn out to listen to my girl tell me her woes.”

I can see the softness and concern mixed with a love that Eric holds for me. He doesn’t often let this side of him show, although I’ve known him long enough to know he feels that way about me.

“Nothing Eric. It’s nothing that I can’t sort out myself.”

“Oh, like that now is it? Not letting me in on your secrets! Well, I’ll remember you when I have some gossip. But Eric won’t be telling you, no siree. Not when you don’t share…my lips will be sealed.” He waves his arms about while trying to pull the last bit of tape from my breasts and I giggle.

“It’s only that since Pea and Con have gotten back together…which I’m over the moon about,” I quickly add, glancing at him to see he’s smirking at me. “Well, I kind of feel like a third wheel at home and so I’ve been thinking about moving out. But I’m not sure I’m ready to live on my own since the Wes incident.” The moment that name slips out Eric purses his lips. He knows what happened. He’s one of the few people in this industry that I actually trust wholeheartedly.

“You can come stay with Eric. You know that. Eric’s home is your home.” I smile at him, knowing that as much as I love him, it would drive me crazy living with him.

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