For Real (Rules of Love, Book One) Copyright © 2013 Chelsea M Cameron www.chelseamcameron.com This is a work of fiction Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are use fictitiously Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, business establishments or locales is entirely coincidental No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission All rights reserved Edited by Jen Henricks Cover Copyright © Sarah Hansen at Okay Creations Interior Design byNovel Ninjutsu “I’m sorry to bother you, but can you watch my computer?” “What?” I pull my earbuds out and look up to meet a pair of astonishingly golden-brown eyes set in a chiseled face under a head of black hair shaved short on the sides and left long on top and gelled to one side like a wave From the top of his shirt peek several tattoos and both arms are also covered, but I don’t have a chance to see what they are, as my eyes are drawn back to his eyes and I’m left momentarily without words I fish for something in my brain to say and come up with two words “Yeah, sure.” Brilliant He flashes me a quick smile, pulls his ringing cellphone out of one baggy pocket, and dashes out of the cafe I’ve been so immersed in working on my paper that I hadn’t even seen him come in, even though he’s been sitting at a table right behind me Outside, he’s strolling up and down the sidewalk in front of the cafe, talking on his phone, a smile on his face I turn in my chair and sneak a peek at his laptop, which is open to Facebook I’m too far away to see anything, but I know the page layout well enough He also has a stack of books, and a notebook open with some scribbles in it A cup of black coffee steams next to the computer I turn back around so he won’t catch me being a total creeper Plus, I need to get back to work I can’t get distracted now I’m just starting the second semester of my junior year, and I can almost taste my degree It tastes like victory and thick paper In less than two years I’ll have a bachelor’s of science degree in business and be well on my way to an MBA It makes me shiver inside just thinking about having my own office at the top of a glossy skyscraper, sitting at my mahogany desk and crossing my nylon-clad legs as I sign a corporate merger with a pen that probably costs more than the car I currently drive Utter bliss Yes, I want to have money when I’m older I’ve lived twenty-one years without it I know it can’t buy happiness, but my family was pretty miserable without it My phone buzzes with a text from my roommate, Hazel I open it to find a picture of a penis I’ve never sexted with a boy Just Hazel Maybe I should look into the lesbian thing Shut it down, Shannon Shut it down and focus I breathe three times, in and out, closing my eyes and emptying my mind Every thought drains out and I lock my eyes back on my computer screen My paper isn’t due until next week, but I never wait until the last minute to a paper like everyone else You never get anywhere by procrastinating, as has been proven by both my parents and my older brother, Cole, through the dizzying array of semi-failed jobs and careers they’ve had My brother can’t even make it as a pot dealer, his current occupation Probably because he smokes too much of his product Sometimes I’m convinced I was adopted Even though I look like the rest of my family, with dishwater blonde hair (that I cover up with highlights) and blue eyes, I don’t act like a single one of them I’ve heard my parents wonder more than once if I was possessed They were joking, of course, but it still stings when they point out what I’m already painfully aware of, that I don’t fit in I’m the black freaking sheep “Thanks.” The laptop guy is back He braces his hands on my table and leans down so his face is close to mine Dude, invade my personal bubble much? “I don’t normally trust strangers with my stuff, but you look ” his eyes skim their way up and down my body, and I shift under his scrutiny “Trustworthy,” he finally says Well, I probably I have to go to work in the operations department of a local bank later, so I have a black pencil skirt with a white blouse tucked into it and my cute-but-comfortable tan pumps on In contrast, his shirt has a cartoon robot splashed across the front and his jeans are really baggy, but not sagging too much It would be clear to anyone looking at us side-by-side that we have next to nothing in common “I think that’s a compliment,” I say as he straightens up and starts moving back toward his table “That’s up to you,” he says, walking backwards and finally sitting back down I turn back around, shaking my head Whatever I start putting my earbuds back in, but stop when someone taps me on the shoulder “For your trouble,” he says, as I slowly turn around to see him standing right behind my chair, holding a plate out to me with a scone on it “Raspberry scone?” “Uh, no Thank you I’m good.” I just polished off a blueberry muffin and I’m on my second cup of black tea “You sure? This is a really good scone You could wrap it up and take it home with you.” He waves the plate in front of me, as if that’s supposed to entice me “No, thanks.” I turn around again and hope he’ll go away “Fine, then I guess I’ll just owe you one.” I turn my music back on and ignore him Saint-Sens fills my ears and drowns out the rest of the noise in the cafe as I pull my focus back to my paper An hour later, I type the finishing touches and start packing my things up The guy is gone, and I’ve been too absorbed to notice when he’d left My chances of seeing him ever again are slim, since Central Maine University has nearly ten thousand students, and most of them are commuters I say a quick prayer before turning the key on my Crown Victoria (which I got dirt cheap because it was a former police car), hoping it’ll start Thankfully, the engine engages with a minimum of sputtering and I drive from downtown Hartford to the next town over, Deermont, where my job is I park near the back of the building and swipe my card in the door I have just enough time to get to my desk, turn my computer on and clock in So far, I have never been late Not only because I hate being late, but I’m also terrified of my boss My cubicle is near the back of the building, in the “farm” as everyone calls it I say hello to a few of my coworkers, most of whom are fellow students My favorite coworker, Amelia, isn’t working today Bummer Nearly everyone else’s cubicles just has a few papers or photographs, but hers is covered with her drawings and positive notes and pictures of butterflies Amelia’s the sunniest person I’ve ever met Sometimes she’s too much, but things never seem too bad when she’s around I have a stack of loan files that need to be scanned, so I start with removing the staples from all the pages Yes, it’s as boring as it sounds, but at least I can listen to my music I put my earbuds back in and get to work This is what I need to to get where I want to be Everyone has to start somewhere I have to pay my dues, even if that means removing staples from a two-hundred page appraisal Three hours later, I am ready to go back to my apartment and get busy on more homework I’m fishing in my purse for my keys when my hand closes on something It’s a paper crane folded out of notebook paper What the heck? I don’t know where it came from, but I know that it wasn’t in there this morning My mind drifts back to the café, and the guy with the laptop Maybe he dropped it in there? It’s a weird thing to do, so I hope it was by accident He’s Asian, so maybe it’s just a thing that he does to celebrate his culture? God, is that racist? I don’t mean it to be I turn it over in my hand as I walk to my car, my heels crunching on the pavement Cranes are supposed to be good luck or something, so I set it on my dashboard I don’t really believe in superstition, but you can never be too careful I don’t want to risk any bad mojo “I’m baaaaack,” I say as I unlock the front door to my craptastic apartment I shuck off my heels and sigh in relief There is nothing quite as nice as taking your heels off at the end of a long day Except maybe taking your bra off Men could just never understand that “How was work?” Hazel, my roommate, is hovering over a pot of something in our microscopic kitchen This could be bad “Fine What are you making?” I say, setting my bag down and trying to avoid the kitchen, in case this turns out to be one of her experiments “Relax, it’s from a box.” She holds up an empty box of mac and cheese I don’t breathe easier, because she’s definitely messed that up more than once “And I bought a pre-made salad and there is ice cream So we’re good.” Only then I let out a breath She holds the spoon out and I take a bite Phew “I swear, every time I cook you act like I’m feeding you poison.” Hazel and I had become friends two years ago when we’d lived next door to each other in the dorms She’d had issues with her roommate, I’d had issues with mine, and we’d ended up moving in together halfway through the year We’ve lived together ever since We were both poor as all get-out, but we’d managed to find an apartment in Deermont and it hasn’t fallen apart yet, although it’s held together with duct tape and staples As much as we get along, Hazel and I are visual opposites Her skin is gorgeous and dark and she tans within twenty seconds of standing in the sun Her dark hair curls in perfect rings, unlike mine that tends to its own thing and be curly on some days and not so curly on other days With the kind of figure that made guys eyes pop when she dances, she definitely gets more attention from the opposite (and sometimes the same) sex than I “You going to work?” A few months ago, Hazel had gotten herself a job as a bartender at the campus bar a few nights a week It’s a little bit classier than some of the college establishments, but the tips suck, so it’s a tradeoff At least, if one of the patrons gets rowdy, she can call campus security and they actually show up “Yeah, in an hour Remind me why I didn’t sell my organs online to pay for my education?” I grab a fork and start stealing bites of mac and cheese from the pot I’m starving, so I’m willing to take a risk “Because it’s illegal?” “Right That They might frown upon that at law school, yes?” I nod and she gets a fork, too We often eat dinner like this Less dishes to wash “Usually.” We finish off the pot and then share the salad from the plastic container as we sit on the couch and work on our various never-ending homework assignments “So it’s going to happen tonight,” Hazel says as she puts on the tight shirt she always wears to work It shows a lot of cleavage, but she gets better tips that way I don’t hate the player, I hate the game in this instance “What’s going to happen?” I already know the answer “I am going to find a nice young man to pop that cherry of yours.” She jabs her fork at me and I back up so she doesn’t stab me with it There it is again The reminder that I’m a card-carrying member of the Virginity Club I wish I had some good reason, that I was saving myself for Jesus, or my parents had put the fear in me, or told me that if I had sex with a boy that my ears would fall off and I’d gain forty pounds, but I have no such excuse The truth is, boys are just gross Part of me is still semi-convinced they have cooties I’ve sort of dated, but every time I think about getting physical, or close to a guy, he smells weird, or has hair on his knuckles, or burps or does something else to completely turn me off I’ve been on a few dates here and there, but usually I have to send out an emergency call to one of my friends In high school, rumors went around that I was a lesbian, and I went ahead and let them spread Of course, then girls started hitting on me, but they were easier to fend off I thought that in college, I’d have the chance to maybe meet someone But, here I am, well into my junior year and that fellow hasn’t shown up yet Sure, there are plenty of guys on campus, but a lot of them are taken Or gay Or taken and gay Or total and complete douchebags Or budding alcoholics Or gay, taken, douchebag alcoholics Since my friends have always struck out when it came to setting me up with a boy in order to make him my boyfriend, they’ve lowered their expectations to just getting me laid I don’t exactly advertise my virginity, but it always seems to come up when people are drinking and swapping stories, and I get red-faced and run away to the bathroom when everyone starts talking about their first times “How many times have I told you I’m set? It will happen when it’s supposed to happen.” This is always my response Even though it’s probably bullshit She shakes her head, her curls bouncing “Don’t give me that fairy godmother, dreams come true shit We don’t need to find your prince charming Just a non-skeezy guy to you a service Think of him as a plumber.” She scrapes the bottom of the salad container for the last few croutons “A plumber? Have you ever seen a sexy plumber? Outside of a porno?” One of the other things my friends have done to try to make me want to have sex is make me watch it I’d only lasted about five minutes when I had to run away and beg them to shut it off Seeing other people doing things like that? I don’t understand how anyone can find that sexy Plus, the girls were like, unbelievably flexible No way I can contort myself like that I’d been branded as a prude from then on “Why are you so up about it? I know you have a little battery friend.” “Yeah, so? I’m a virgin, but I’m not supposed to know about my own body?” Hazel has also surprised me a time or two when I thought I was alone “I have a sex drive, Haze Being a virgin doesn’t stop me from having sexual feelings.” In fact, I probably have more than the average girl, just because they are so pent up “We just need to take those sexual feelings and transfer them to something with a penis A real penis With a boy attached to it.” I shake my head and go to take a shower When I get out of the shower, Hazel yells to me that she’s going to work I change into my favorite sweats and start on some more homework I’m NEVER done with homework Or maybe it’s never done with me As soon as I finish everything on my To Do list, I finally allow myself a reward: a few chapters of the book I’d gotten last week It’s a heart-wrenching contemporary, and I know it’s bound to make me cry Hazel is always telling me that I’m missing out on the college experience, but I’d rather not wake up on the floor of a strange apartment, under a strange naked guy, not knowing how I’d gotten there If that makes me a loser, then I guess I’ll wear that label proudly I can party when I’ve gotten what I wanted I plug my phone in, making sure the alarm is set for seven, and shut the light off I try to go to sleep, but my mind is busy and chattering in my skull and making it difficult I don’t like to dwell on negative thoughts, because they’re rarely productive, but tonight they seem especially loud I blame it on the encounter with Laptop Guy Maybe the reason I haven’t found a good guy is that he doesn’t exist That there’s something in me that’s allergic to them I’m attracted to them, sure, but the moment things get close, I just can’t go any further I find flaws and they turn me off I’m a control freak No one needs to tell me that I’ve known it my whole life Ever since I freaked out when my mom didn’t put the crayons in the box exactly the way they’d been when we’d opened it I’ve always needed order, and things to be just so It’s a wonder I don’t have Obsessivecompulsive disorder Hazel is always telling me I should get tested when I spend fifteen minutes rearranging the plates the right way after she’s unloaded the dishwasher Sex is one of those things that’s a complete loss of control You give yourself up, in your most vulnerable state, to another person, and they give themselves to you I don’t think I’m ready for that For the intimacy I mentally gag on the word I spend the rest of the night tossing and turning and thinking about sex until it’s too much and I have to get myself off a few times just so I can sleep Can you be a nymphomaniac if you only have sex with yourself? Finally, I fall into a semi-restless sleep, and I’m grumpy when I get up the next morning Hazel’s passed out in her room, so I make sure I’m as quiet as I can be while I get ready and drive to campus for yet another day of my undergraduate career I’m setting my travel mug in the cupholder when I notice the paper crane Shrugging, I toss it in my bag It can keep my pens company Aaron was silent I pictured him squeezing his eyes shut, trying to find the right words But there weren’t any None that would make me change my mind, anyway I needed to make him see that without hurting him in the process Well, more than I already had “You and I were good together, Summer,” Aaron said “We got along, never fought, we had fun I was happy with you I thought you were happy with me too.” “I was … sort of.” How in the world could I explain it to him when I couldn’t fully make sense of it myself? “This thing with my parents has made me think.” “Think about what?” I tried to keep the frustration out of my voice, but it crept in Just like it did any time I tried explaining to someone exactly what the divorce had done to me No one ever got it My friends at school had worn blank looks, my dad didn’t seem to want to talk about it I’d avoided anyone else who might ask just so I wouldn’t have to face the strange looks when I tried to make them understand “I don’t want to ‘get along’ or ‘have fun,’ Aaron,” I said “I want to live I want to feel it I want it to matter.” “I thought I did matter.” “I …” I’d already said it once and that had been hard enough Why was he making me say it again? I squeezed my eyes shut and whispered, “I just need to go my own way.” Heavy silence on the line “If it’s space you want, I’ll give it to you,” he said, his words clipped “Enjoy the wide open But Summer?” “Yes?” “I’m not your mother.” “I know that,” I said Then I up I took my time unpacking, carefully choosing what to store and what to keep out Space was limited, but I didn’t mind I needed the dilemma the shortage of space provided—it distracted me from problems that had no easy answers Like Aaron And my mother I knew Aaron was working through disbelief and heading for anger And he had a right We’d had no real issues, no obstacles that would raise a red flag in the relationship He was nice Took me on dinner dates Remembered birthdays He laughed at my jokes Listened—mostly—to my rants about the literary research papers I had to write, and about my professor with a crooked nose and nasally voice that you couldn’t hear unless you sat in the front row Aaron was patient, always understanding when I couldn’t see him because of a test to study for He was predictable Steady Calm I’d actually liked those things about him at one point Even the predictability It meant something you could count on Both were things I wanted in a boyfriend Both were things I’d seen in my own parents’ relationship Until I’d come home for winter break and my parents had said they were separating Not a trial basis, but the first step toward the d-word Papers were filed My mother had already moved out Gotten a little apartment in the city And from the way my mom had smiled when she’d said it, I knew it was really over It grated on me—that smile, that happiness It made me furious If the two people who seemed the most stable in the entire world couldn’t make it last, what chance did I have? I’d gone back to my last semester of school without an answer Aaron had complained that I was distant, but when I brushed him off, he let it go That was his way And I’d realized it wasn’t enough I wanted more A connection so tight the other person couldn’t possibly ignore the other’s hurt Or distance Or pulling away Did that exist? I thought it did, but after seeing my parents split, maybe it didn’t Maybe it was all a fairy tale In my mind, it wasn’t worth finding out The hurt I saw in my father was all too real The day I’d graduated, I broke it off with Aaron and told my dad I was coming home, business degree in tow I would pick up the slack Mom had left behind, the books for Heritage Plantation— her job up until six months ago And maybe figure out what it was I wanted in the process The big city—the rest of my life—could wait Heat from the kitchen drifted through the hardwood, warming my feet and signaling me for dinner I always knew when a meal was being cooked This floor conducted heat like a metal rod in a thunderstorm I gave up on unpacking the latest box of books onto an already full bookshelf and headed for the kitchen The scent of hot food made my stomach rumble I rounded the staircase, nearing the bottom when I heard boots stomping against the welcome mat below me “Uncle Frank,” I called, zipping down the last few steps and launching myself at him Frank grunted but held firm Years of manual labor had taken its toll on his aging body, and I knew there was muscle hidden behind all that flannel “Goodness, girl, what they feed you up at that big fancy school? You must’ve gained a ton.” “Either that or I’m not six anymore.” I laughed and pulled back so I could look up at him His leathery cheeks had a few more fine lines, but otherwise, he looked the same The sight of him was familiar and comforting, and though he wasn’t blood related, he’d been my dad’s best friend and surrogate family for so long, no one remembered we weren’t related He squinted at me “Coulda’ fooled an old man Every time I look at ya I still see a gap-toothed smile.” I punched him lightly as my attention was drawn to the sight of another familiar face coming through the front door His cheeks were scruffier than the last time I’d seen him His hair was longer, too “Hey, sis,” he said, grinning at me as the storm door slammed shut behind him “Casey,” I squealed, launching myself at him even harder than I’d done with Frank I wanted to knock this one off balance, just for bragging rights But Casey caught me easily and swung me up, lifting my feet off the ground and spinning a full circle By the time he set me down again, it was halfhug, half-wrestling match and we were both laughing “Glad you’re back Been way too quiet around here without you,” Casey said, finally letting me go and straightening his shirt Pots banged together in the kitchen and someone—a male—let out a string of curses followed quickly by an apology I gave an exaggerated eye roll “You were saying?” Casey grinned “Guess Mazie’s getting the newbies to the dishes again.” “Must mean food’s almost ready,” Frank said, rubbing his hands together and setting off toward the kitchen Before I could move to follow, Casey reached out and wound his arm around my neck, pulling my cheek against his collarbone But I was too familiar with Casey’s tricks to be caught I ducked out before he could yank me close enough to press his knuckles to my scalp “You get faster up there in the big city?” he asked “Or you got slower living down here in the country,” I shot back “You two are relentless,” Frank said “Not our fault,” Casey protested “How you figure?” Frank asked “The way I see it, if you and Dean hadn’t stuck us together since we were in diapers, we might’ve been able to curb the sibling rivalry long enough to be nice to each other.” “So it’s my fault, then?” Frank demanded I stifled a smile It was an old argument between them—one that both men seemed to enjoy since neither ever got legitimately mad at the other over it Frank went on, his voice rising, “I should’ve let you be raised by strangers instead of your own uncle? Your own flesh and blood?” “Of course it’s your fault, Frank,” Casey said, the details too long gone for him to be ruffled by the reference to his parents’ accident “But I wouldn’t have it any other way You and Summer and the rest—you’re my family.” He punched the older man lightly on the arm and Frank scowled, but I saw the expression smoothing into something like affection as Frank turned away I exhaled, some of the tension inside me melting off at being surrounded by people I loved They might not be blood, but Frank was the only uncle I’d ever known, Casey more like a brother I wouldn’t trade them for anyone As I stepped through the doorway, my eyes fell on the empty seat at the far end of the table The one right next to my dad’s usual spot A sharp pang shot through my gut but I shook it off I wouldn’t think of her now Not with all the hustle and bustle and familiar faces waiting I could think of it in the quietness of my bed tonight—and every night after if needed “Summer!” Mazie, our housekeeper, pushed past the others crowding the kitchen and hurried forward, holding her arms out I stepped into the circle of her arms and inhaled the scent of garlic and dish soap that was Mazie Pagonis The older woman squeezed tight and then quickly pulled away with a frown “You’ve lost weight, Paidi mou,” she said, her Greek accent faded after so many years on Virginia soil I smiled Paidi mou, in Greek, meant ‘my child.’ It had been Mazie’s pet name for me since I was little “I’m fine,” I assured her Mazie clucked her tongue, going on as if I hadn’t spoken “You’re wasting away Good thing I made pasta tonight It will stick to your insides Casey!” Behind her, Casey jumped “What?” “Carry the bread rolls to the table.” Casey moved toward the counter but Mazie stopped him with a reproachful look “Wash your hands first.” “Yes, ma’am.” Casey switched directions, heading for the sink “It smells delicious,” I told her “Good I expect you to eat like it,” she said Mazie hurried away, rattling off instructions to the nearest body to help her with the heavy lifting Pans and platters were lifted from the oven by willing arms, all belonging to hungry crew unlucky enough to have arrived early for the meal Mazie didn’t believe in idle hands Dean Stafford employed only one year-round, full-time man to help oversee the affairs of Heritage Plantation—although Frank Connors could make enough noise for ten men on his own—but many part-timers came and went during the growing season And the standing rule was that if you were here at closing time and your belly was empty, there was always a place at the table for you It wasn’t a surprise most of them made sure to be here come quittin’ time Mazie’s cooking wasn’t something to miss “Hey, Summer,” someone called “Hey, Joe,” I said, smiling and waving as a stocky Puerto Rican carried a steaming dish to the table for Mazie His dark hair had been buzzed short, something he always did in the summertime “How are Leslie and the kids?” I asked “Jealous I stayed here for dinner,” he said with a wicked grin I laughed “Leslie’s working at that new jewelry store in town She says you should stop in and say hi Says it’s been too long since you two caught up.” “I will I haven’t seen her since … last Thanksgiving.” He set the dish down and lowered himself into a chair beside it “Has it been that long? Huh.” I nodded, hoping he wouldn’t press it “Time flies,” was all he said I let it go When I’d come home for Christmas break and found out about my parents, I’d shut myself off from everyone in order to deal with the shock of their divorce I hadn’t really reached out to anyone from my old life since Now, there was no escaping it I’d known that when I’d come home Still, I would probably put it off as long as possible Even with Leslie, my best friend from high school I loved her, but that girl asked way too many questions I wasn’t ready with answers just yet By the time my dad came through the back door, black earth covering his hands, I’d greeted everyone and given hugs Not a single person mentioned my absent mother or asked me why I’d come home instead of staying in the big city like I’d always told them I planned I appreciated them for that “Dean Stafford, you better wash that grub off before going near my dinner table,” Mazie said, shaking a sauce-covered spoon at Dad Dad wiggled his fingers menacingly, and Mazie backed away muttering Greek phrases better left un-translated Dad laughed as he went to the sink and stuck his hands under the water Conversation flowed between mouthfuls of pasta, everyone laughing and teasing and easy in each other’s company It was oddly un-awkward considering it was my first company meal with the empty chair Around a mouthful of garlic bread, I heard the screen door kick shut and shot Casey a curious look He didn’t answer, opting instead for another forkful of casserole The sound of footsteps echoed down the hall I watched as Casey’s gaze was drawn over my shoulder “Someone’s late to the party,” I said, turning in my chair I expected to see another familiar face joining the group, someone I knew from past summers on the farm I was surprised to find a stranger instead, though that wasn’t what had my eyes widening and my torso stuck in the swiveled position This guy was not the usual farmhand variety At least, not the kind they grew in the foothills of southwestern Virginia Definitely not from Grayson County He was tall and lean, muscular in all the right places if his fitted white shirt was any indication His sandy brown hair was just long enough to fall onto his forehead, making his face look younger than the rest of him But those eyes, blue and deep and full of knowledge—of what I didn’t know— were what held my attention I bet they’re even better close up, I thought He caught my gaze and held it for two beats before I realized I was obviously staring I broke away, but not before the rest of the table noticed our exchange Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Casey and Joe share a look that had me wanting to reach over the table and knock the grin off both their faces Heat rose to my cheeks, and I made a show of cutting my food, carefully placing it on my fork, and putting it in my mouth The clink of my silverware echoed in the stretched silence I prayed my face wasn’t as red as it felt Checking out a hot guy was one thing Doing it in front of my dad and all his boys was quite another “Ford, ‘bout time You better get a plate before it’s gone,” Casey said, breaking the silence I sent him a grateful look from underneath my lowered lashes He’d tease me for it later, but he wasn’t letting me suffer for it now I owed him one “I’m on it.” The voice that responded was low and held just a hint of humor I pretended it wasn’t on my account The newcomer, Ford, made his way toward the stack of empty plates on the counter, and conversation resumed, slowly at first but building quickly to the crescendo of noise it’d been before I tried to see where the new guy planned to sit, uncomfortably aware of the empty chair next to me, but he went first to the sink and ran soap and water over his hands I took another bite Chewed Swallowed Ignored Casey trying to wink at me “Look at that,” Mazie said, with a pointed look at my father “Washing his hands without being asked I want three more like him.” Dad scowled but Ford laughed, a deep-in-the-belly sound that made it difficult not to turn and watch while you listened to it “You better be careful what you wish for I’ve been told it’s hard enough handling one of me.” Mazie giggled It made my brows raise I’d never in my life heard Mazie giggle I looked at Casey but he was forking casserole into his mouth and ignoring me “You let me be the judge of that,” she said “Unless you want the job?” Casey whispered at me across the table, wiggling his eyebrows “I’ll tell everyone here how you got that rash last fall,” I hissed back He shut up Joe snorted and opened his mouth to say something but one look from Casey made him think better of it I went back to my dinner Mazie appeared at my side, fussing at me to take a second helping Despite my resistance, another spoonful of food was deposited onto my plate and Mazie walked off with a satisfied smile Casey shook his head “You’re going to weigh three hundred pounds by the end of the year,” he said “Not if I work it off beating the crap out of you.” Trading jabs with Casey was the easiest way to recover from public embarrassment “That’s a fight I’d like to see.” Ford’s tone was casual and friendly but something about it— about him—made everything he said feel very … personal The chair next to me scraped back and Ford sat down I turned just as he scooted forward, and, for a split second, our faces were only inches apart I blinked, startled by the closeness of the most striking gray-blue eyes I’d ever seen I was right Definitely better close up “Oops Sorry.” He gave a lopsided grin and scooted himself back, putting a respectable distance between us “It’s okay,” I muttered Ford turned his attention to his steaming plate and dug in Across the table, Casey grinned in a way that made me want to throat-punch him He was enjoying this way too much Ass While Ford ate, I tried not to ogle the parts of him that filled my peripheral But it was hard not to notice the broad shoulders and hard jawline After a few moments, he grinned and turned toward me Feeling caught and determined to play it off this time, I did the same “I’m Ford.” He stuck his hand out and I shook it, the gesture awkward when we were sitting this close Wow, he had big hands Rough and calloused What was his job here? Shit, was I supposed to be saying something? “Um, hi.” My cheeks warmed all over again I raised my chin, giving his hand an extra-firm shake “I’m Summer I live here.” Smooth He held my hand longer than necessary, but I didn’t pull away, wanting to beat him Finally, Ford retracted his hand from mine and picked up his fork, though he made no move to eat “I know Casey’s told me a lot about you.” Without the distraction of his touch, I regained my composure enough to manage a mock glare across the table “Is that right? Should I be worried?” Not that it mattered what Casey said about me I’d left school to get away from a lot of things about my life, including a guy Especially a guy I wasn’t looking for another one So who cared what this one thought? “I think where Casey’s concerned, you should always be worried,” Ford said and despite my internal lecturing, I laughed “Hey now,” Casey said “You two have known each other three seconds and you’re already ganging up on me? Dean, I want to file a complaint on the new guy.” At the far end of the table, my dad shook his head at Casey and then went back to his conversation with Frank “You work here?” I asked Ford He nodded “When did you start? I don’t remember seeing you here for winter break.” “Got into town about a month ago Only been working here at the farm for a couple of weeks,” he explained “Ford took that internship Dean offered to the Association,” Casey explained “The work study program?” I asked, remembering my dad saying something about it being his turn to offer to mentor a graduate for the Board of Farmers he served on They were big on “the next generation,” as they called it, and keeping natural produce locally owned and operated so they found ways to give back as often as possible I’d forgotten all about it until now “That’s the one,” Ford said “Figured I’d follow him around, learn what I can of mass-produce field farming before moving onto the next one.” “You have multiple work studies lined up?” I asked “This is my third since graduating the program.” “Do you have a track record that requires you to keep seeking out alternative locations?” I asked Ford laughed “I’m not a delinquent, if that’s what you’re implying.” “That’s not what I meant.” “Isn’t it?” He shot back I frowned, but he didn’t seem ruffled “Don’t worry I’ve completed each program with no problems I just want to learn as much as I can before choosing a location and settling into my own thing.” “And what’s your thing?” I asked Ford didn’t answer right away He seemed to take his time thinking over my question “Creating,” he said finally Something about his answer pulled at me Like a challenge Like the question I’d asked was important and if you didn’t know the answer, you’d failed It made me shift in my seat as I realized I wouldn’t have known the answer had he asked me that same thing I waited for him to shoot the question back at me, but he never did Casey said something to him and he responded; moment over The rest of the meal passed easily Ford talked mostly to Casey with plenty of side comments and smiles for Mazie All of the guys, including my father, seemed to genuinely like Ford even though he’d only been here for two weeks Maybe it was my warped view of the world these days, but it was a little off-putting to see that he’d slid into the fabric of Heritage Plantation so quickly Ford was either the nicest guy ever—or the slickest charmer I wasn’t looking for either one And now a sneak peak at The Only One by Magan Vernon, available now! Chapter One The sugary drink burned going down my throat I hoped it wasn’t because the guy who poured it out of the cooler roofied it At least it drowned out the scent of sweat and stale beer I didn’t know how Monica talked me into an Alpha Mu Halloween party A horde of girls clad in skimpy costumes pushed past me like I was nothing more than another one of the paddles on the paneled wall I tried to steer away from them, but my face hit a hard set of pecs I gasped as I watched my entire drink soak through my sweater and onto my skin I looked up from my drenched sweater, all the way past a chiseled six pack to cool blue eyes “Maybe you should just take it off up in my room and I can help you get dry.” He leaned in, his full lips right on my ear “Or make you wetter.” My breath caught in my throat, rendering me speechless Luckily my best friend Monica jumped between us, pushing the guy back so I got a full view of him and realized he was only wearing a loincloth and a large smile “Down, John Boy.” She scowled at him and then turned to me, almost knocking her beret off “What the hell happened to you?” “I-I-I spilled my drink.” Monica’s eyes narrowed as she looked down at the red liquid soaking through my gray sweater She whipped her head around to the loincloth-clad guy “Was this your fault? Are you trying to get my friend naked?” He held up his hands, a cockeyed grin on his face “Purely an accident, Lib.” Ah, now I knew where I’d seen him before He’d came into the coffee shop we worked at a few times I don’t think he even glanced in my direction more than to hand me his student ID to pay, but was always calling Monica ‘Lib.’ I’m guessing because she was an extreme liberal Monica’s boyfriend, the governor’s son Trey Chapman, pushed through the crowd Usually when I saw him he was polished in dress pants and a dress shirt, but his Halloween costume was nothing more than a pair of American flag boxers, a dress shirt, and some gray hairspray He looked ridiculous The Clinton and Lewinsky costumes had been Monica’s idea “Hey, I’ve been looking for you.” He slipped his arm around Monica’s waist “What’s going on here?” “John Boy spilled a drink on Melanie to try and get her naked.” “Hey!” John Boy yelled “It wasn’t his fault,” I piped in “It’s crowded here and he ran into me It’s fine.” “Fine?” Monica raised her eyebrows “That Hermione costume you’ve been wearing since middle school is covered in Everclear and Kool aid That’s not fine, Mel.” “I haven’t worn this since middle school!” Okay, truth was, it was my go-to costume I’d bought it for the first movie’s midnight showing and had worn it for every movie opening and Halloween since “Whatever.” Monica turned her head to Trey and tugged on his shirt “You can just wear Trey’s shirt.” He shook his head “I’m not walking around here just in my undershirt The boxers are bad enough Why don’t you give her yours?” She looked down at the blue shift dress that we coated with white out “Then I’ll be down to my bra and underwear.” “Not much more than a lot of the girls here are wearing anyway,” I muttered Trey either didn’t hear me or chose to ignore me and nodded his head in John Boy’s direction “John Boy, you have an extra shirt that Monica’s friend can borrow?” The grin spread wider on John Boy’s face before he ran his hand through his spiky brown hair “I was just offering her the same thing.” His eyes flitted to mine and an electric charge ran down my stomach “What you say, Melanie, care to come up to my room?” I swallowed, hard I didn’t usually get propositioned by guys, especially guys with bodies that looked good in nothing but a loincloth Every part of me was hyper aware of the curves of his muscles and I had to keep from staring at where his treasure trail stopped “Great, we’re coming with.” Monica grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the stairs I glanced back to make sure John Boy was actually following and he was When he saw me look at him, he shot a wink in my direction “I can’t believe you were just about to go upstairs with him alone!” Monica hissed in my ear, forcing me to look at her “I was not,” I whispered “Ugh, I knew this party was a bad idea.” Trey squeezed her side and she squealed “You think everything is a bad idea.” “Eavesdrop much, Mr Chapman?” “Only when you don’t try and give things a fair chance, Miss Remy.” I rolled my eyes, even though they couldn’t see it, because they spent the rest of the way up to the second floor going on with their banter My friend, the fierce liberal, loved picking fights with the uber conservative It was like they rarely had a normal conversation, but she loved it Every time she talked about him her whole face lit up He’d finally brought her out of the dark clouds she first sat under when she transferred, and now they were inseparable I, on the other hand, was not taken and would have been just as happy sitting at home and not having something sticky that smelled like licorice on my costume I’d have to ask Trey who he used for a dry cleaner We reached the second floor, where a few couples were making out and some girls were taking duck face photos with their phones Ugh Trey turned to the right and stopped at the first door John Boy sauntered in behind us, his loincloth still perfectly in place Not that I was hoping for it to have shifted “And welcome to Chez John Boy, where the magic happens.” He pushed open the door and I was overwhelmed by the smell of dirty socks mixed with cologne The room was small, with an unmade twin bed in one corner, a futon opposite that, and a sole window across from us Piles of clothes littered the floor and there were posters of half naked women and beer advertisements on the walls “I can’t believe any girl would actually screw you after seeing this place.” Monica curled her upper lip, walking into the tiny room and dodging the piles of clothes “Some girls prefer things a little out of order What you think about it, Red?” John Boy winked “Red?” My hair definitely wasn’t red and I wasn’t one of those redheads who were in denial, like Monica, who claimed her hair was auburn No, my hair was dirty, bottom of the sink brown and just as curly as the steel wool used to wash that sink “Yeah, you know, because of what’s soaking through that lovely sweater.” His eyes trailed down to the now giant red splotch across my shirt My cheeks heated up and probably turned just as red as my shirt “Okay, can you stop trying to spit your game at Melanie now and get us a shirt?” Monica groaned Trey stood in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, shaking his head “Keep your hat on, Lib, I’m getting it.” John Boy took a few strides over to the small closet and opened it There were only empty hangers and a dresser inside He opened the top drawer and pulled out a dark green shirt, tossing it in Monica’s direction She caught the shirt and unfolded it, holding it out in front of her before curling her upper lip “Seriously? You expect Melanie to walk around wearing this?” “What? That’s a nice one Usually girls have to a lot more than just get a drink spilled on them to get one of my shirts.” I looked over Monica’s shoulder and raised my eyebrows when I read the shirt “Alpha Mu: We’ll make you smile like a donut.” I didn’t get it at first and then I noticed the picture It was of a girl with her mouth as a donut, making a giant O shape Great, a blow job shirt “If you want me to make you smile, Red, I’d be happy to oblige.” John Boy sauntered back over, his full height looming over me In the light I could actually see just how built he was He looked like one of the MMA fighters from TV with his rippling chest and the tattoos on each of his pecs and his biceps I just thought he was a big moose of a guy He never actually said too much to me and now he was using every cheesy line he could Monica sidestepped between us She was always overprotective when it came to guys The only time I ever saw her calm down was when she was sleeping She went through a lot of crap before she transferred to Central College Trey and counseling made it a lot better, but I didn’t put it past her to deck John Boy Even though I’m not sure it would have made an impact, looking at the size of his arms “Just back off, okay? Thanks for the shirt and I’m sure Melanie will give it to Trey to return to you.” “She can keep it I’m sure it looks much better on her than me It compliments those mesmerizing green eyes of hers.” A large grin spread across his face and I could feel my own definitely heat up I was used to blending in with the crowd and even though he probably wasn’t sincere, it was nice to get a little attention once in awhile I didn’t even think he knew my eye color It seemed as if the guy was actually looking at more than my chest Before I could respond, Monica ushered me out of the room and back down the hall “You could try and be a little nicer, Mon, John Boy was helping you out.” Trey followed behind us as we squeezed past the people lining the hallway “Yeah, well, he didn’t have to get all swaggery on her.” Monica took my hand and led me up to the third floor It was basically empty with a few doors on each side and to our left was a small blue bathroom that smelled even worse than John Boy’s room “I’ll stand guard at the door while you change.” Monica ushered me into the small bathroom and I shut the door behind me A bunch of Playboys littered the floor next to an old toilet that must have been white at one time but now looked yellow Across from that was a small, subway-tiled shower and in front of me was a giant mirror in which I saw the giant red blob crossing my sweater I’d never be able to get the stain out Monica and Trey’s muffled voices came from beyond the door, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying Quickly, I peeled off my sweater and white tank top The sugary drink had soaked through and left a giant red mark on my skin I turned on the water and it hissed before spraying a very small trickle It would have to I couldn’t find a towel, or even toilet paper so I put my shirt under water, letting it soak onto my sleeves and then scrubbed at my stomach, which did nothing more than aggravate my skin “Ugh.” I gave up and picked up the horrendous donut shirt, slipping it over my head It was way too big for my five-foot frame and went down to my knees John Boy had to be over a foot taller than me, like 6’5” and built Very built I shook my head, trying to get the thoughts of him out He wasn’t really interested in me Sure, I probably wouldn’t have any problem getting a quick lay out of him, but that wasn’t what I wanted At least I didn’t think I did No, no I couldn’t think of him that way He was the type of guy I needed to avoid The guy who just wanted me for one thing The guy I would end up falling hard for and he would just drop me like I was nothing I had too much of that I grabbed my sweater and opened the door Monica was pressed against the wall with her legs wrapped around Trey’s middle Her fingers were laced through his hair and his hands disappeared somewhere underneath her dress I was definitely interrupting a heated moment, but I didn’t want to keep staring at their tonsil hockey either, so I cleared my throat “Um, we need to go or you two need to use the bathroom?” A sound like a suction cup peeling off a window came from their mouths as Monica dropped her legs, prying herself away from Trey He faced away from me, adjusting his boxers “Sorry about that, Mel You were taking awhile and yeah ” She bit down on her bottom lip and her cheeks flushed “It’s cool.” I shrugged “We can go if you all are ready.” Monica didn’t want to go to the party at all, but Trey insisted that she should face her fears and have some fun That was how I got roped into it Because dragging her best friend to a party to use when she needed an out to leave seemed like the best option to her It’s not like I had anything better to anyway A sticky shirt and people watching were better than sitting home alone in my apartment and Facebook stalking “No, no it’s fine!” Monica shook her head and tugged on my arm “Let’s go dance and get rid of this awkwardness!” Monica led me back down to the basement with Trey following close behind He couldn’t even look at me It was actually the first time I’d caught them making out They hadn’t been together that long, but whenever they were in public it was like Trey had to keep up some sort of persona and kept everything to just hand holding There were a few times I’d seen him kiss her forehead, but that was it And I had just caught them practically going at it in the stairwell Once we got down to the basement, some mash up of late 90’s music was playing Monica pulled me through the crowd until she found a spot the three of us could stand She faced me and tilted her head back, moving her body to the music Trey slunk in behind her with his hands on her hips, and moved his body in sync with hers Once again I was the third wheel in the Monica and Trey wagon, which was why I’d been in the corner in the first place I was ready to go hit the bar for another drink when a pair of hands slid onto my hips I froze I’d never had anyone come up behind me and that I trusted Monica to watch out for me and not let some guy take advantage of me, but at the same time I was intrigued about who the hands belonged to I glanced back and locked eyes with John Boy; his very gaze making me tremble “I was right about how good that shirt would look on you.” His lips were hot on my ear and linked a direct line to my panties “It’s, um, a little big, don’t you think?” I managed to squeak out as he rocked my hips back against him “Don’t you like things big?” I swallowed My stomach felt like it had dropped to my knees I tried to regain my thoughts when he laughed against my neck “I’m just giving you shit, Red, don’t take it too seriously Just dance with me.” He turned me around so I was facing him I had to practically stand on my tiptoes while he crouched down so my face wasn’t in his chest That still didn’t stop me from staring at his chiseled form and also made me acutely aware how subpar my body was compared to his I tried to suck in my stomach as he pulled me closer, pressing against me He mouthed the words to the music and I couldn’t help but giggle “Are you a Backstreet Boys fan?” I had to practically yell over the music and the people making grunting noises around us Whatever they were doing I didn’t want to know His laugh tickled my lips and even in the dark basement I could see his blue eyes sparkling “My older sister was really into them so we always had this on in my mom’s minivan on the way to school.” “Rocking out in a minivan, I didn’t take you to be that type of guy.” “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Red, and a lot I’d be willing to show you.” Before I could respond his hands slid behind my head and he tilted my chin up, putting his mouth to mine I parted my lips slightly and his tongue slipped in and out teasingly, twirling with mine He didn’t taste like alcohol, like I would have expected His kisses were sweet like strawberry bubblegum and I wanted to taste him over and over His hands slid down to my lower back, his tongue continuing to explore my mouth His teeth nipped at my bottom lip and I felt a low moan gather in my throat I craved more of him, slipping my fingers into his hair and pulling him closer, trying to deepen our kiss, but he didn’t budge He broke the kiss, placing a peck on my forehead before leaning down so his lips were on my ear “Not here, Red, but if you want to go up to my room to continue this, I’d be happy to accommodate you.” Did I want to? He was a damn good kisser, probably the best I’d ever had And his body looked like something Photoshopped out of 300 But I didn’t think I wanted to just be another notch on his bedpost Luckily Monica came to my rescue as usual Her hand was on my shoulder and she turned me around She stood there with her eyebrows furrowed and Trey was right at her back with his arms around her waist “Hey, are you ready to go, Mel?” “Now? But it’s so early.” And I wanted to keep dancing with John Boy, no matter how stupid his nickname was and even if I didn’t go back up to his bedroom, I could still deal with just making out and whatever else we were doing “Early?” Her eyes bugged out “It’s am?” “Seriously?” When did I lose track of time? I swore we had just left my apartment John Boy’s arm slinked around my waist “You two can go have your fun and I can bring Red home later.” “Uh, no, I don’t think so.” Monica yanked me forward until John Boy let go of me “I’m fine, really, my apartment isn’t that far.” “Which is why me and Trey can walk you.” John Boy leaned in over my shoulder “I can walk her home when she needs it.” “Watch it, loincloth, I’m not afraid to spork your eyes out.” “Hey, let’s be reasonable here,” Trey spoke up “I’m sure Melanie would be perfectly fine with having John Boy take her home.” Monica whipped her head in Trey’s direction “Are you serious right now? I am NOT just leaving my friend at a party.” “She’ll be fine He’s not going to anything to her.” Before Monica and Trey could continue their argument I groaned and yelled over them “I’m right here, you don’t need to talk about me like I’m not.” They both snapped their attention to me “Sorry, Mel,” Monica grumbled I sighed “And I’m ready to go.” I glanced over my shoulder at John Boy “I guess I’ll see you around.” He grabbed my hand and brought it to his lips, grazing my knuckles “I wish you’d stay, Red, but I understand if you have to leave.” Locking my eyes with his, I didn’t want to leave I wanted to trace the lines of his tattoos and get tangled in his sheets But that wasn’t what a girl like me did That’s why I didn’t have a boyfriend I didn’t just jump in bed with random guys, no matter how hot they were “I do, though.” I peeled my hand away “Goodbye, John.” Where to find more of The Only One GoodReads Amazon Barnes and Noble About The Author Magan Vernon is a Young Adult and New Adult writer who lives with her family in the insurance capital of the world When not writing she spends her time fighting over fake boyfriends via social media You can find her online at http://www.maganvernon.com Social media Twitter Facebook fan page GoodReads Pinterest Table of Contents Cover Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Other Books by Chelsea M Cameron Acknowledgements About the Author Excerpt: A Risk Worth Taking by Heather Hildenbrand Excerpt: The Only One by Magan Vernon ... coincidental No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission All rights reserved Edited by Jen Henricks Cover Copyright © Sarah Hansen... “Um,” I say as he holds the door open for me “It doesn’t look like much, but it’ll get you where you need to go You scared, princess?” Okay, so I’d asked the guy for a favor, and I know his first... feel a little bit bigger The only furniture in the room is a bed with a bright red comforter on it, a desk covered in paper and stained by various art supplies and a dresser with a lamp on it The