The Unexpected Series (Unexpected #1-3) (62 page)

This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Cover Design: Sara Eirew Photographer

Editing: Kathy Krick

Formatting: Angel’s Indie Formatting

To my son. My buggy-boo. My main man and the one who melts my heart every single day with his puppy dog brown eyes and cute smile.

Always remember you promised to cuddle me when you’re big like Batman.

I
walk down the crowded hallways of Wheeling High School the first day of my senior year trying to decide if I look different. I mean I feel different, but I’m wondering if everyone who passes me can tell something has changed.

I try to go unnoticed, looking down at my schedule, in love with the fact that I have my favorite subject–art–during first period.

I’m startled as an ear piercing scream fills the halls, and I don’t have to look up to find that it belongs to my best friend, Emie. The sound of excitement gets closer, and her purple sparkly flip flops come into my downward view.

“Did you dye the tips of your hair pink?” She shrieks not moving an inch and blocking me from making my way to class.

I finally glance up and notice a look of disgust across her face.

“There is nothing wrong with my hair, Emie. You’re just a prude,” I comment taking in her appearance.

When they say opposites attract they were talking about Emie and me. She is shorter than me, curly blonde hair that flows down to the middle of her back, bright blue eyes that pierce you with any stare, and her clothes could land her in a commercial for The Gap. She is captain of the cheerleading squad and student council president. She is the opposite end of the spectrum from me. At five feet seven, I’m on the taller side, medium length brown hair, with bright pink tips, as Emie so nicely pointed out, no makeup over my green eyes, and I usually have paint on some part of my clothes that were purchased from Wal-Mart.

“I’m not a prude,” she says insulted. “I gave it up to Todd Mitchell over the summer. You, my friend, still have yet to lose your V card.”

I inwardly smile thinking about last night and how amazing it was. Shaking away the thoughts, I continue the trek to my first class. “Where are you off to?” I ask.

She sighs twirling a strand of hair between her fingers. “Gym. Can you believe that? Who wants to get all sweaty first thing in the morning?”

I inwardly giggle thinking of how I wouldn’t have minded getting a little sweaty this morning.

We walk together down the hall, and I try not to acknowledge Ryder Blake as he walks towards us.

“Oh my God, Had. Did you see how sexy Ryder looks today? He gained some hot muscle over the summer.” Emie quietly gushes over the most popular guy in our class.

At over six feet tall and pulled in all the right directions black hair, with the bluest eyes you have ever seen, he makes the rest of the guys in our class look like boys. He is on the varsity football team but tends to get into trouble. Because he is the quarterback, and he helps our crappy team win most of their games, teachers tend to look the other way when he does whatever the hell he wants.

He walks past us, eyeing my body up and down, before a sideways smirk crosses his lips. His jeans fit snugly to his body, and his long fingers grasp the black straps of his backpack over his hunter green shirt. I try not to smile.

“He’s alright,” I answer her, shrugging. “Nothing to write home about.”

“Ugh, Hadley,” she says annoyed. “You really are blind, you know that?”

I leave her at the door to the locker room and walk the rest of the way to art.

I feel at home as I enter the art room. I’ve spent a lot of time in here over the past three years. I had the chance to go to Chicago High School of the Arts this year but decided I wanted to stay here. I’d like to say it was because the program here was good, but I knew better than that.

The large rectangular shaped wooden desks are positioned in the same places as last year, and I stop mid-stride when I find Ryder sitting at one of them talking to the teacher, Mrs. Cray.

When he notices me standing there his eyebrow quirks up.

“Hadley!” Cray greets me. “I was just asking Ryder here to pull some supplies out of the storage closet. Do you mind helping?”

I place my bag on a table at the opposite side of the room and nod my head unable to find my voice.

Ryder passes by me invading my personal space, and my heart rate immediately picks up. Regardless of what I said to Emie, he is smoking hot. You’d have to be dead not to notice.

Following behind him back down the hall, he opens the door to the closet lifting his arm for me to cross under. The door slams shut, and darkness fills the tiny space.

Ryder’s hands find my hips and whirl me around, pushing me up against the door. His soft lips crash into mine like a freight train and I reach up gripping the hair at the nape of his neck between my fingers.

He pulls away, but I can still feel his lips close to mine. “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to wait until tonight to touch you again,” he whispers kissing me again. “Are you sore?”

My focus goes to the arousal starting to pool between my legs feeling a slight discomfort. “A little bit,” I answer.

“It’ll get better.” He comforts me. “That was just the first time. Next time will be easier.”

“When can we tell people we’re together?” I ask breathlessly.

He kisses my nose and drags his mouth down to my lips. “Soon, I promise.”

His hand slips up my tank top finding my cotton covered breast. He pulls the left cup down and takes my nipple between his thumb and pointer finger. It feels incredible and thoughts of last night rise to the surface of my thoughts again.

“Ryder,” I quietly moan out.

“I’ll always treasure what you gave me yesterday, Hadley. I promise. I love you,” he tells me causing all sorts of fluttering in my chest.

“I love you too Ryder,” I breathlessly tell him.

T
he alarm screams promptly at six a.m. I lean over reaching for the dream interrupter and hit the snooze button.

The sheets feel warm as I roll onto my back, staring up at the plain white ceiling, just wanting to fall back asleep. My ears perk up as I listen to Braden, my boyfriend of two years, move around in my bathroom. It’s not hard to hear everything since my studio apartment is the size of a normal living room. It’s all I can afford, and it’s really all I need. Braden doesn’t understand. He has asked me to move into his condo but I like having my space. Somewhere to call my own. Somewhere that is mine.

At least that is what I tell myself.

“Hey, babe. You awake?” His voice drags my gaze to the edge of my bed, his body glistening with the remnants of his shower. Trickles of water cascade down his torso.

With his dark green eyes watching me and hands on his hips, I take in his whole body. The towel is wrapped around the bottom of his chiseled abs and I can see his hard bodied chest taking slow, deep breaths. His buff shoulders connect with beautifully chiseled biceps. As his longer than usual dirty blond hair falls onto his forehead, I catch a glimpse of his trademark sideways smirk. It’s no wonder women try to throw themselves at him all the time.

“No,” I answer back, hoarsely, while bringing the sheets up over my nude body, covering everything but my eyes.

His smile turns seductive. “I can help with that.”

He grasps onto the knot in his towel and pulls it apart, letting it drop to the floor. Tension immediately starts to radiate through my body. Lowering to his hand and knees, he crawls up the bed until he is hovering inches above my body. Goose bumps prickle my skin. The sheet is quickly pulled off and his smooth hands bring my knees up around his hips. Without question, he slips inside of me not caring to see if I’m ready for him.

I allow him to use my body as I continue to stare up at the ceiling. Within minutes, his thrusts get faster. His grunts louder, and I feel him swell inside me as he releases. He slides out, kisses me on the nose, and gets up to finish getting ready for work, not bothering to ask if I came.

I didn’t.

I turn to my side and close my eyes trying to remember how it used to feel when I would just see him across a room and butterflies would create chaos inside not only my stomach but my heart. Or when he would send me flowers, or make me dinner. We’ve just fallen into a comfortable routine. I feel as though we’ve lost that spark. Maybe not so much Braden’s spark for me as I for him.

I remember meeting him at a Shell gas station the summer after I graduated college. I had just arrived back into town. He was pumping gas behind me, and we just started chatting about my death trap of a Jeep and we immediately hit it off. The confidence he exuded was a turn on, and no one had made me laugh in such a long time. The boys in college acted like immature drunks but he was all man. I spent four years of college boyfriendless, sexless and lonely. I don’t know what it was about Braden that made me push my apprehensiveness about guys aside but a week later I broke my five year dry spell and we became officially exclusive.

I had taken a chance. Something I hadn’t done in a long time.

As I lay there, bare and unpleasured, I try to recall when exactly things took a turn. I rack all my memories, but it seems there wasn’t a specific point in time it all started to go south. It just happened gradually. Things between us were exciting at the beginning. Laughing, joking, and enjoying each other’s company. Barely a moment was spent apart and all I thought about was him.

Now, two years later, we’re comfortable yet so far removed from each other it’s almost senseless. I’m afraid my heart isn’t in it anymore, and if I’m honest with myself, I’m not sure it ever has been, but I stay. I stay because I trust him, and that is something I never thought I could do with a man. Not since high school. Not since my heart was shattered, my trust betrayed and my world caved in. When I was forever changed by the only other man I’ve been with. The one who broke me into a million pieces so long ago. The reason I have yet to be put back together again. After all this time, Braden hasn’t been able to do that...not that he would know it needs to be done.

Since high school, I’ve kept my heart guarded. I’ve never gotten out of the waiting to exhale moment in Braden’s and my relationship where I felt I could truly be myself. It’s hard to walk around and pretend like everything is okay. That you’re happy when you’re not. When you want to be yourself with the people you love but you don’t feel you can. That you have the perfect relationship when you don’t and it’s not even his fault. It’s mine. Despite letting him in, I’ve kept myself protected for seven years, hiding away, scared to let the true me out, feeling as though people won’t accept me for who I am.

The artist.

The risk taker.

I’m startled when Braden’s cold nose touches mine, and then he steals a quick kiss. “I’m off to work, baby. Dinner tonight?” he asks slipping his hand down to my breast and flicking his thumb over my nipple, taut from the cold.

My eyes flutter shut, trying to revel in his touch. “I can’t. Girls night with Erin and Noe,” I answer in a whisper.