I relax into the sofa backstage as the guys’ show starts to come to an end. They’re the last act of the night, finally the headliners. Lily couldn’t make it out tonight, but I know she is just as proud. Their road to success has been a hell of a ride for us all. A number one single and four weeks on top of the music charts is more than they could have ever hoped for.
Once the twin scandal was old news, and Diesel officially made things right with Xander by professing his love for me, the guys were free from distraction. They soared to the top, taking my finally published novel with them. I hit the New York Times bestsellers list, something I never would have imagined. I smile down at the Jack in my hand—my once trusted companion to provide liquid numbness. Now the whiskey is a celebration of my growth, happiness, and my journey getting here. I reflect on the good, the bad, and the ugly. I’m glad I didn’t give up on us. I take another sip, wondering if I’m hearing things. I swear I just heard my name announced.
Two seconds later, one of the security guards summons me. My nerves are on edge as the sound of the crowd gets louder. I don’t know what’s going on—I just let my feet propel me forward. Diesel meets me and the security guy at the edge of the stairs leading to the stage. Is he going to officially announce me as his girlfriend? The butterflies in my chest flutter about while my stomach drops. He reaches for my hand, and I let him guide me. Once we reach the stage, I freeze, suddenly overwhelmed. The crowds’ screams are unintelligible. My eyes water, and I blink away the tears to make sure I’m seeing right. Standing not even three feet away, is my mother, Brooke, and Lily. After the initial shock releases my leaden feet, I run the short distance to hug my mother—Brooke and Lily joining in.
“This is the love of my life everybody,” Diesel says into the mic. The crowd goes wild with excitement. “So naturally, I wanted to bring the people she loves most here tonight.”
My mom and the girls release me. They part as Diesel walks toward me, his swagger making me dizzy with desire. He going to get so much pussy tonight.
“Thank you,” I mouth, wiping away the rest of my tears.
“You make me whole, Lourdes. You love me for the man I am—all of me. You gave me hope when there was none, stuck by my side even when you didn’t have all the answers, and you showed me what true love and loyalty looks like.”
My heart quickens, suddenly aware where this may be leading. “Oh, babe. I love you too,” I promise.
He gets down on one knee, and it all becomes real. Suddenly, the band begins to play the song Diesel wrote for me, “Leave it All Behind.”
“Lourdes, I have a record deal, the best fucking band ever, a number one single, and a rise to fame. I’m only missing one thing. Will you make my life complete and do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
I nod slowly. My head light from disbelief.
“Yes,” I say hoarsely, but then repeat it a little louder. “Yes, babe. You make me so happy.”
He pulls a perfect solitaire from his back pocket, and I’m stunned as he slides onto my left ring finger.
“I thought you said we would get tattoos instead of rings.” My mouth agape; I’m unable to hide my shock.
“Meh. We don’t need ink to solidify us being permanent. My beautiful princess deserves a rock to match.” He takes the mic away from his mouth, and it is then I realize the entire audience bore witness to our moment. “Fuckers will see this a mile away and know to stay away. You’re mine forever, babe, and I couldn’t be happier. You’ve make me the happiest man alive.”
My mother and the girls cheer along with the crowd, but at this moment, it’s only Diesel. I’ve never seen him be so publicly vulnerable, and it melts my heart.
“You save me, Diesel. Now I’m yours.”
“We saved each other, love. We were two lost souls battling our demons in darkness—destined to find the light in each other.”
He stands, and without a care to our surroundings, he gives me a kiss filled with heat—a prelude to what’s to come—me!
He waves good night to the crowd, and their approval is deafening. I’m looking forward to spending time with my mom and the girls, but first, I’m going to properly celebrate my engagement with my fiancé.
“I got us a hotel for the night,” he ensures as we leave the stage.
“Are you reading my mind?” I tease.
“I’m right there with you, babe. No reading necessary. We need to consummate our engagement.”
I can’t help the giggle that escapes me. My man is quite the comedian. “Doesn’t that come after marriage?”
“Babe. We’re going to consummate the countdown to the wedding—as in every day. I have a lot to make up for.”
We both laugh as he sweeps me into his arms. As he heads straight for the back door, I know he has every intent to fulfill that quest. I’m the luckiest woman in the world, and our lives start now.
Thank you for reading Leave It All Behind. I hope you’ve enjoyed reading Lourdes and Diesel’s twisted romance in the S.I.N. Rock Star Trilogy. If you love forbidden romances, you’ll love The Forbidden Trilogy. The trilogy starts with Forbidden Attraction. Here is a look at the blurb.
Siobhan Gallagher has just started her senior year at the University of Southern California. She has her best friend and her boyfriend of five years by her side. As the countdown to graduation begins, her world comes crashing down when her boyfriend confesses that he has cheated on her. Her past has shown that love is volatile, but she had hoped that this time would be different. Siobhan becomes a cynic—doubting the existence of love. She vows to never give her heart to another.
In walks Professor Michaels. He is a sexy billionaire playboy who limits his encounters to one night, maybe two. His jaded past and multitude of secrets shapes his aversion to love and relationships. He makes no promises of forever. Offers no apologies for his preference for variety. When he first meets Siobhan, the attraction is mutually instantaneous. He knows she is supposed to be off limits, but he has never denied himself of something he wanted.
Siobhan and Professor Michaels share the same sardonic outlook on love. What happens when these two paths cross? If they give into this forbidden attraction, can they both come out on the other side unscathed?
. Start reading the first three chapters free on the next page.
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Forbidden Attraction (The Forbidden Trilogy) ~ Book # 1
“WAKE UP, SHIV! You are going to be late for class.”
My roommate’s high-decibel amplified warning springs me into action. Jordan Daniels, my best friend since middle school, is always the early riser, regardless of the time she goes to bed. I, on the other hand, prefer to sleep in, but I have learned not to schedule my classes late—it makes for a long day. I turn to look at my alarm clock that has yet to go off and see that it is already after seven o’clock. I have forty-five minutes to get to class. Today is the first day of my senior year—the countdown to graduation begins. I jump out of bed and run to brush my teeth. I don’t have time to investigate the stupidity of my alarm clock. Thank God I took a shower last night. This is the quickest I have ever gotten ready. I throw my thick waist-length red tresses in a messy bun before putting on a pair of low-rise skinny jeans, halter top, and flip-flops. After a quick swipe of deodorant and application of lip gloss, I am ready to go. I grab my brown leather messenger bag and head towards the kitchen.
“I put some coffee in your travel mug,” Jordan states.
She doesn’t have her first class until nine, but she likes having plenty of time for her beautifying ritual as well as having enough time to select clothes according to her mood. Jordan is currently a journalism major. She chose this major to appease her parents’ wishes for a “dependable” degree, but her passion is fashion. She recently confided in me that she is planning to finish her degree since this is our last year, but then she is looking to apply to Parsons for fashion design. In the meantime, she is building her portfolio with anything fashion related such as personal design sketches and a lookbook of both fashion she has designed and purchased. Her closet is an explosion of various designers, which comes in handy when I need that special something to wear, despite our height difference. In my opinion, I think she could model on the runway rather than create fashion and I have told her as much. She is not interested in modeling though. She doesn’t think her look is unique enough. Her natural blonde hair and blue eyes are the epitome of natural beauty, yet she is not conceited.
“You are the best. I hope Liam saved me a seat,” I reply. “We have marketing together this morning.”
Liam Wilkins and I have been together since our junior year of high school. He is a business major like me, but is here at the University of Southern California on scholarship to play quarterback. Jordan and I had applied for several colleges together, opting for those that were looking to recruit him. We are from Houston, Texas so the chance to move to Los Angeles was both liberating and scary.
I had never been that far from home, but had looked forward to the independence the distance would provide. Jordan’s family was very supportive of the move and gives her anything she wants. She has an older brother named Roman, but she is their baby girl who they love to spoil. It is because of them that we have been able to live in a condo off campus this past year. Her parents are like my surrogate family. They refuse to accept any payments toward the condo and are just happy that Jordan and I are living together. My parents send me money monthly to help with my living expenses so I only have to pay tuition and fees, which are covered by my academic scholarship. Jordan wanted to live in the dorms for our first two years of college, even though we were only required to stay on campus for our freshman year. She wanted to indulge in the experience of campus life, but last June, we finally took the plunge into total independence. Liam lives in the Tau Kappa Epsilon house with his fraternity brothers, but spends most nights with me.
AS I WALK into class, I immediately see Liam sitting toward the front of the class and he has a seat reserved next to him. He gives me a half smile as I sit down. I can sense his apprehension and I wonder what is bothering him. He has been like this for the past two weeks.
I have asked him about it, but he just keeps putting it off on the stress of football. I am starting to worry, but I am pulled from my thoughts when our professor walks in. Holy cow. We have hit the professor lotto. I have never seen a professor who looks like he could be a GQ model.
He has inky black hair that is tapered on the sides and longer on top that makes you want to run your fingers through it. My eyes peruse the rest of him and I am equally impressed: piercing cerulean blue eyes, chiseled facial features, a five o’clock shadow hinting rugged but manly, lean body, muscular broad shoulders, and narrow hips. To add to his perfection, he is wearing a crisp white button down shirt that provides a subtle hint of his ripped abs, a purple tie, and black tailored slacks that hang delectably low on his hips while showcasing his powerful quadriceps. His clothes look to be above his pay grade. He looks more like a CEO than a professor. When he opens his mouth to introduce himself as Professor Michaels to the class, I am done. The timber of his voice is low with a hint of rasp that sends tingles through my body.
As I look around the room, I see the female population of the class sit a little straighter in their seats to get a better look at our captivating professor. Some of the men roll their eyes at the blatant attention he is getting. I suspect they are jealous. Liam briefly looks for my reaction and I immediately feel guilty. I have been caught ogling our professor, but I would have to be dead not to notice how sinfully gorgeous he is. It is just an observation. Professor Michaels goes through the syllabus to discuss expectations, due dates, and answer questions. He then introduces his teacher’s assistant as Donovan Whitmore. He is tall, lanky, and nerdy looking. He gives a confident wave to the class and I like him immediately. Some TAs try too hard by acting as though they are the professor themselves, but I don’t get that vibe from him. He begins by giving us information on his background and ends with telling us about his role in the class.
As class comes to end, Liam jumps up, kisses me on the forehead, tells me he needs to see his coach, and he wants to talk to me later. We agree to meet at the Starbucks on campus at six o’clock. I gather my books to put back in my messenger bag and look up to see Professor Michaels surrounded by three female students who apparently couldn’t ask all their questions during class. I roll my eyes before they meet his. His lips are curved slightly upward as if he just read my thoughts. I give him a slight smile and head out of the door.
THE DAY PASSES by in a blur. I attend two more classes, economics and accounting, before heading to Starbucks to meet Liam. I get there before he does so I order us his favorite—grande chai tea latte with whip cream. Just as I find us a seat in the back, he walks in. He looks even more stressed if that’s possible. He takes a seat across from me and I can see that his eyes are glistening.
“Liam, what is going on?” I ask while taking a sip of my tea. “And don’t tell me it’s football.”
“I slept with someone else,” he blurts out. “I didn’t mean for it to happen.”
I’m speechless and my stomach feels like the bottom has just dropped out. Tears spill down my face as my mind struggles with every emotion from anger to hurt.
“I am so sorry, Shiv. I don’t want to hurt you, but I think we need to see other people,” he says. “This is our last year before graduation and we need to see if our love is meant to be. I love you, but I want the full college experience.”
“How can you say you love me and do this to me? I followed you here so we could be together,” I scream. “Now you want to throw it all away?”
“You mean a lot to me, Shiv, I’m just not ready to settle down. If we are meant to be, we will be again later.”
He skipped right over the acknowledgment that I came to this school for him. “You’re delusional. I’ll never forgive you for this. Have fun with your sluts that are looking at you as a future paycheck because what we had is over. I will not be like her!”
“Babe, please. Calm down. People are staring.”
“Fuck off, Liam. I don’t give two shits about these people.”
Liam’s eyes are as wide as saucers at this point. I rarely curse—not out loud anyway. My private thoughts don’t count. My use of profanities is a testament to how angry I am and he knows he has just put himself in the same category as my father.
“I will not be like her,” I whisper this time. My throat feels like I have swallowed acid. Liam understands my meaning and does not push me further.
I rush through the crowd, tears dripping nonstop. I know everyone has just gotten a show, but at this moment I don’t care. I gave him five years of my life and he just discarded my love like yesterday’s trash. He has crushed me. I’m thankful that my old Toyota Camry does not give me any trouble today. I make it back to my condo in record time. As I place the key in the door, it swings open widely. A petite brunette stands in the door with a smile on her face.
“Hi, I’m Bailey Nichols,” she says. “You must be Jordan’s roommate Siobhan.
“Yes, just call me Shiv,” I say simply. I’m not in the mood for pleasantries or conversation. I just want to head to my room so I can finish crying my heart out. “Nice to meet you.”
“Okay Shiv. It’s nice meeting you too. Hope to see you Saturday. Jordan will give you the details,” she says before continuing out the door.
I answer with a quick nod and rush to my room before I have to explain my tears to Jordan. I need some time to myself. As I throw myself across my bed, there is a soft knock on my door. Jordan doesn’t wait for me to answer before barging in. So much for having some time to myself.
“Liam called me. I am so sorry, Shiv. I can’t believe he’s done this to you.”
“What exactly did you he tell you?” I ask while sobbing.
“He just told me you guys broke up and I needed to be here for you when you came home.”
“Oh how considerate. He broke up with me, Jordan, and he slept with someone else.”
She is outraged as I continue to divulge the events leading to the breakup, including how he has been moody and apprehensive for the last two weeks. She rants for twenty minutes about Liam’s philandering behavior and her plan to castrate him to inhibit his hormonal urges.
I can always count on her to make me feel better. I tell her about my hot professor to lighten the mood.
“At least you’ll have a distraction when you have a class with him,” she says jokingly.
“What are you talking about?” I sniffle.
“Just focus on your hot professor.”
I roll my eyes and laugh. “I think the professor will have more than enough unsolicited focus on him,” I retort. “Now tell me about Bailey and what she meant, hoping to see me on Saturday.”
Jordan explains she and Bailey share the same major. They’ve had a few classes together the past two years and even more this semester. Saturday, a couple of their fellow classmates are getting together to hang out at Bailey’s house. She lives with her parents, but they are currently out of the country so she’ll have the house to herself. Jordan feels this will be a great opportunity for me to get drunk and forget about Liam. We’ll see. She knows that I don’t drink often—and never to get drunk, but this ordeal may be an exception.
I DRAG MYSELF out of bed, hating that it’s already Wednesday. I’ll have to face Liam again in class. Yesterday, I attended my morning class, business law, and then stayed sequestered in my room for the rest of the day. I did not even come out to eat.
Jordan brought dinner to me because I refused to get out of bed. She said she was going to allow me one more day to mourn the loss of my relationship with Liam and then I needed to move on. Yeah right. Being forced to see him two days a week is going to kill me. I go through the motion of getting ready for class, grab a cup of coffee, and head out the door.
My plan is to get to class early so there is plenty of seating to choose from. I can’t sit next to Liam and pretend everything is okay. I realize this plan is in jeopardy when I see him walk into class just ahead of me. Will he follow me wherever I sit in order to smooth things over? He must sense my presence behind him because he glances over his shoulder and our eyes connect. He gives me a slight chin lift of acknowledgement before wrapping his arms around the shoulders of some big bosomed blonde walking next to him. I hadn’t noticed her until now. I wonder if she is the bimbo he slept with. Insensitive bastard. This arrogant jackass is not who I gave my heart to. I don’t even recognize this version of him.
He walks right past the row we sat in last class period and heads to the back of the room with the blonde still at his side. They take a seat in the last row—no doubt to do inappropriate things during class. She’s all over him. God, I hate him right now. I can’t believe I didn’t know he was capable of such coldness. Deciding that I have had enough of this visual torture, I turn away quickly, managing only to run right into Professor Michaels, successfully knocking all his papers out of his hand. I am mortified. I drop to my knees in an effort to help him pick up the mess I’ve created. My chest is heaving and I am straining to hold back my tears. The professor leans down next to me and I can feel his breath next to my cheek.
“Don’t you dare let him see you cry. He’s not worth your tears,” he commands.
“Yes sir,” is all I can muster.
The professor gives me a sympathetic smile and I’m taken back by his forwardness. Then it dawns on me that he’s aware of my breakup. He obviously sees the new accessory attached to Liam’s hip. The tart is making sure everyone notices she is with him. Now I’m even more mortified. For the rest of the class period, I try to focus on the lecture and not the disregard Liam is showing for me in the back of the class. The professor makes eye contact with me periodically to ensure I’m following through. As soon as class is over, I race out the door without making eye contact with anyone.
THE REST OF the week passes with me just going through the motions. The pain has yet to subside. Liam was a major part of my life. Without him, I feel like a piece of me is missing. We initially bonded over the fact that his parents were divorced like mine. His mother treats me like the daughter she’s never had for God’s sake. Now I’m going to lose that relationship too. I want to call Ms. Shelley, but it would be wrong to expect her to choose sides. No, a clean break is the only way. This saddens me even more. I can’t fathom calling my own mother right now. She has instilled in me from a young age that love is volatile. She was never a fan of me giving myself wholeheartedly to Liam. “I told you so” is not what I want to hear right now.
I had planned on staying home tonight and watching reality TV. The pseudo drama gives me a temporary escape into someone else’s life and away from mine. Jordan has another idea though and has convinced me to join her for dinner at an Italian restaurant downtown. She knows Italian is my favorite and it’s her way of cheering me up. After getting dressed in an olive green sheath dress and black peep toe heels, we head to the restaurant in her white Mercedes SLK350. It’s a sleek, sporty, two-seat roadster convertible. I love my used Toyota Camry, but I can’t say that I don’t drool every time I get a chance to drive her car. It was a high school graduation present from her parents.
“I have heard so much about the Palm Restaurant and have been dying to try their food.”
“I hope it’s not super expensive,” I murmur. “And before you say it, I want to pay my own way.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Shiv. I wouldn’t invite you to some expensive place and then expect you to pay. It’s not that expensive anyway.” She frowns at my stubbornness. “Please just let this be my treat.”
I concede only because I know she is trying to make feel better about the whole Liam fiasco. For the rest of the ride we sing along with the various tunes streaming from her Sirius XM satellite radio.
Once we arrive at the restaurant, Jordan pulls up to valet and checks her makeup before getting out. The restaurant itself is romantic and cozy. So this is what life has been reduced to for me—a romantic night out with my best friend. I feel pretty pathetic, but Jordan doesn’t care. She always has my best interest in mind and tonight is operation “Forget Liam.” The hostess finds our reservation and escorts us to our seat on the second floor next to a balcony that overlooks the entire restaurant below. As we sit, I take in the soft lighting and the murals of famous politicians, celebrities, sports, and media figures.
“This place is beautiful. The faces don’t mesh with the decor though.”
“The portraits are called caricatures. It’s a tradition that stemmed from the phrase ‘sing for your meal’ where an artist would pay for his meal by drawing a portrait on the wall,” Jordan explains. “As the restaurant branched off to other locations they carried on the tradition.”
“How do you know all of this?”
“I looked up this restaurant on the Internet when I heard everyone talking about how fantastic it is.” She smiles at the fact that she did her research.
The waiter introduces himself as Manuel and asks to take our order. We order the lobster bisque as an appetizer with pinot grigio, but need more time to decide on our main course since we have been chatting instead of looking at the menu.
He smiles at us warmly while pouring wine into our glasses before leaving to put in our order. As my eyes follow him, they land on a familiar face a few tables down and I freeze. It’s Liam and he is on a date with the blonde from class along with his teammate Jason and his date. There goes that plan.
Jordan follows my gaze and gasps. “Oh no … do you want to leave?”
“Hell no. He is not going to run me off just because he is here on a double date.”
“I’m so sorry. What are the odds he would be here?”
“Don’t worry about it. You did say there has been a lot of buzz about this place. Let’s just enjoy our night.”
“What are you going to order?” she asks while studying me.
“I think I’ll have the veal martini. What about you?” I force myself not to look at Liam, but the thread of my control is unraveling. I take a sip of my wine to calm my nerves.
“I’ll get the chicken Parmesan and let you have a taste in exchange for a taste of yours,” she offers.
She knows that is what I usually get when ordering Italian, but I want to try something different. We place our orders once the waiter comes back and I allow myself one more look at the jerk. He is smiling intimately at his date and stroking her arm. I don’t think he is sorry at all for cheating on me. Their familiarity is sickening because it suggests maybe this is not a new relationship—he has strayed more than the one time he has admitted to. I want to claw both of their eyes out. I dig my nails into my palms underneath the table to distract myself from the pain of thinking about it. The physical pain breaks me out of my reverie.
He has already moved on and I need to do the same. Jordan and I make small talk about her classes, attempting not to discuss anything Liam related, but she knows I am hurting right now. My mulish tendency is preventing me from getting up and fleeing as far as I can from this restaurant. I will not let him win. I excuse myself to use the restroom before our food comes to pull myself together. Jordan nods in understanding. I’m thankful the location of the restrooms is in the opposite direction of Liam’s table so I don’t have to pass him. I’m about to come out of my stall when two female voices stop me from opening the door.
“Heather, you have hit the jackpot with Liam, he is sexy as hell and the starting quarterback,” the first girl says dreamily.
“Not to mention he fucks like a stallion,” Heather adds. “He said his ex-girlfriend was only into missionary so he tries to make up for lost time by fucking me every way, but loose. Oh and Melissa, his oral skills are pure magic. I am getting worked up just thinking about it.”
“You lucky bitch. I am going to see what his friend has to offer tonight and I’ll let you know if he comes up to bat.”
I feel the bile trying to rise into my throat as silent tears stream down my face. How dare he? We waited until our freshman year of college before I gave Liam my virginity. He was patient with me and told he would wait until I was ready. When I finally gave him my gift, he never tried to be adventurous with me sexually. I never suggested anything else due to my lack of experience and because I just figured he wasn’t into anything else. I thought we had a healthy sex life. This girl makes it seem as though I am sexually inept. Shit maybe I am. Maybe this is why he left me. This realization makes the tears fall harder and I can no longer keep the bile down. I turn and vomit profusely into the toilet behind me.
“Eww, someone had too much to drink,” the first girl, now known as Melissa, says. “Let’s get the hell out of here before the barfing causes me to lose my appetite.”
Heather and Melissa leave the restroom without knowing the identity of the person barfing and the subject of their discussion is one in the same. I come out the stall to rinse my mouth out and wipe my face, but I look like crap. I’ve lost my appetite. Liam is apathetic over our demise and laughing at my ineptness. Who is this person? Has he done this all along? Dejectedly, I head back to our table. Jordan notices immediately the change in my demeanor.
“What’s wrong?
“Not now, okay? Let’s just get our food to go after all,” I respond, defeated. “I am going to wait in the car. Tell them something came up and we need to leave.”
“Okay,” she says sadly as she hands me her ticket for the valet.
I stand and my chair scrapes the floor. Liam looks up and his eyes lock with mine. I try to put on a blank mask, but he knows me too well. Sadness reflects in his eyes and it makes me angry because I don’t want his pity. When he stands to come toward me, I shake my head before rushing out the door. On the ride home, I tell Jordan about the girls’ conversation I overhead. She pounds her fist against the steering wheel and threatens to turn the car around to beat the shit out of Liam. I convince her to leave it alone because I don’t want him to know I overheard how he feels about our sexual experience. When we get home, I don’t even bother eating. I head straight to bed and cry until I eventually fall asleep.
IT’S MORNING I am even more depressed. I have tried to take my mind off Liam, but that feat is proving to be impossible since I keep seeing him all over campus with the blonde from class and then again on a date last night. My suspicion has grown exponentially that she is the reason for our breakup—she is whom he slept with two weeks ago.
There is a light knock on my door before Jordan appears in the doorway.
“I have our morning java,” she says while holding two cups of caramel macchiato.
“Thanks. I can use the caffeine boost.” I reach for my iPhone and see it’s already noon. I guess after crying until four in the morning, I needed to sleep in.
“Are you okay? I hate to see you like this.” The look on Jordan’s face tells me she heard me crying last night, but decided to give me some space.
“I will be. What time is this get-together?” I ask with more enthusiasm than I actually feel. Jordan sees through my facade, but lets it go.
“I told Bailey we would be there by three o’clock so go shower and I’ll pick out something to wear.”
I quirk my eyebrows at her. I attempt to resist since I know she tends to show more skin than I do, but she’s not having it. I give up and head into the bathroom to get ready. When I come out, Jordan has laid out a black bikini with red flames on it.
“This is one of my new swimsuits, but I think your killer curves will do it better justice.”
“Where is the rest of the material?” I groan.
“Just try it on.”
After putting on the bikini, I’m immediately self-conscious about my body. Jordan is tall with model proportions so she looks great in everything. I, on the other hand, am five feet four with D-cup breasts and a generous backside. This swimsuit leaves little to the imagination.
“Jordan, I look ridiculous.”
“Nonsense. Your boobs are luscious and your heart-shaped ass will make all the guys drool.”
“You are insufferable,” I say as I put denim shorts and a tank top over my swimsuit. I’ll just keep my clothes on over the minuscule material.
We grab a quick lunch before heading over to Bailey’s. I was starving after skipping dinner last night. Jordan insisted we needed to eat before we drink anything. When we arrive at Bailey’s, I’m blown away by the monstrosity she calls a house. It is more like a mansion. The gates open automatically as though we were expected at that moment. I let my eyes wander around the beautiful grounds as we drive up to the “house.” Bailey appears in the doorway and escorts us in.
“Come on girls let me get you caught up. The rest of the gang is already here and lounging around the pool.”
Before I can inquire about her meaning of getting caught up, she pulls out three shot glasses. She then pours tequila in the glasses and says we’re each going to make a toast and take a shot. A toast with tequila, hmm … I’ll play along.
“Here is to friendship,” Bailey says.
“To new beginnings,” Jordan adds.
“To getting over assholes,” I offer. Bailey and Jordan both laugh.
We drink three shots each before heading to the pool. Once we’re outside, I spot a sexy hunk with his back to me. His back muscles are so sculpted and delectable. Add that to his masculine broad shoulders and powerful calves, he is a picture of perfection before he even turns around. He is wearing a baseball cap and board shorts that hang dangerously low. Yum. It’s nice to see my hormones did not die with my relationship.
“Ah, checking out my brother,” Bailey says, pulling me out of my reverie. “Grayson, come meet my new friend Siobhan.”
Holy shit, I am assaulted by his gorgeousness. I allow my gaze to travel the length of him before coming to a halt on his face. Recognition in his eyes reflects back at me: Professor Michaels. He gives me a sexy smirk before uttering, “Hello. Nice to meet you Siobhan.”
Is he fucking kidding me? That’s it? He is choosing to pretend he doesn’t know me; it cuts me to the core. Why the hell should I care? Okay, so it seems alcohol consumption allows the profanities to run more freely in my thoughts. Everything comes into focus after my perusal of the professor, and I now see a brunette has arrived and is hanging on his arm. Realization dawns on me. He is pretending for her.
“Nice to meet you too,” I reply. “My friends call me Shiv.” I can pretend with the best of them.
Bailey continues to introduce him to Jordan, but I can’t take my eyes off him. His abs and V-shaped groin are even sexier than I imagined. The front view is even more tantalizing than the back. A light dusting of hair trails south from his navel and disappears into his waistband.
“Nice to meet you both. I’m Vanessa,” the brunette chimes in possessively.
I take a minute to study her. I have to admit she’s gorgeous. She’s Jordan’s height, about five foot nine, but slightly curvier. Her white bikini showcases her great tan while her belly ring twinkles in the sunlight. I see her eyeing me as well, probably trying to decide if I am a threat. Yeah right!
Bailey leads us away from them and introduces us to a couple of Grayson’s old college buddies—Matt and Chris. Both guys gaze over my body without shame before doing the same to Jordan.
“You guys are such pigs,” Bailey grunts.
“Just enjoying the beauty that has been bestowed upon us,” Matt speaks up.
Matt is the taller of the two. He is about Grayson’s height so I am guessing he’s around six foot three. He is lean, definitely less muscle, but still sexy. Chris is shorter and stockier, but can hold his own in the looks department. Together they are a handsome duo.
“Hmm, the charmer,” I reply before being pulled to meet the other two girls that are friends with Jordan and Bailey.
Angie is the most exotic looking of all. Her caramel skin is smooth; her green eyes are catlike. She is about my height minus the curves and appears to be on the shy side. Meghan is outgoing, funny, and pretty in the girl-next-door sort of way—thank God. Being around all these gorgeous women will give me a complex. It is not that I think I am ugly, but I know I am not extraordinary. The breakup with Liam is not doing any favors for my self-esteem.
“Ooh look. The guys have set up a volleyball net in the pool. Let’s play,” Angie squeals.
I take another shot of tequila before agreeing. The alcohol has loosened my inhibitions immensely and I’m now pulling off my shorts and tank since I am the only one still covered up.
That … and I would look like an idiot getting into the pool with my clothes still on over my swimsuit.
“Damn baby,” I hear Matt say.
I look his way only to find he’s not the only person staring. Grayson and Chris both have their eyes roaming over my curves, but it’s Grayson’s attention that’s surprising. Vanessa gives him a slap across the chest and he looks away. The moment passes and we pick teams for volleyball. Bailey, Jordan, Grayson, and myself are on a team while Matt, Chris, Angie, and Meghan team up. Vanessa has decided to sit out. No surprise there. I doubt she would want to risk breaking a nail.
BOTH OF OUR teams have won one game each and this is the tiebreaker. Chris serves the ball and I’m so determined to return it, I back into Grayson hard enough to lose my balance. I blame it on the alcohol like the Jamie Foxx song. Before I can lose my footing, Grayson catches me. I feel his strong hands splay across my stomach brushing against the underside of my breasts. The heat from his torso is radiating onto my back. My butt is pressed firmly against his powerful legs as I melt into him. His hardness has stolen my breath. Bailey suddenly gives us a small cough and he realizes he has held on a second too long and lets me go.
I look around for Vanessa, but she has disappeared into the house. I thought my moment with Grayson might have been the reason until I see her return from inside carrying a drink, unaffected. I continue the game in a haze, but we win. After the game, I head into the house for a cold glass of water and a moment to gather my composure. I’m at the refrigerator when two masculine hands appear on either side of my head, blocking me in.
“What are you doing here?” Grayson asks.
“I was invited by Bailey. I didn’t know she was your sister.”
“Stepsister, hence the different last name,” he replies in way of explanation.
“Why did you pretend not to know me?”
“Because it’s a conflict of interest with you just being here. I am not supposed to interact socially with my students. Especially not half-naked students,” he deadpans.
“Where is the rest of your swimsuit?”
Feeling bold, courtesy of the alcohol, I reply “Do you like what you see?”
“Baby, if I wasn’t here with someone else and you weren’t my student, I would show you just how much I like it, right here against this refrigerator,” he growls next to my ear. He is pressed against me and I can feel his erection against my stomach. Desire shoots through me and I lose myself momentarily as I allow my hands to caress his abs. He jerks away from me like I just burned him.
“Don’t … ” he says. “We can’t.” With that he storms away.
How embarrassing. I just tried to molest my professor who has a girlfriend. I need another shot. As if reading my thoughts, Matt appears at my side with shots in hand. I take one and shortly after, I know I’ve exceeded my limit. The music is thumping and the world is spinning so I lie down on the chaise lounge, attempting to get my bearings. Matt isn’t having it though and has pulled me up to dance with him. I’m holding on to him for dear life so I don’t face plant. Minutes into the song, I’m yanked away and Grayson is telling me that it’s time for me to leave. No one hears him say this, except Jordan, who’s at my side in seconds. She looks between the two of us and senses the tension.
Shit. He is mad at me for my earlier indiscretion and now it looks like I have moved on to his friend. He offers to take me home, but Jordan says she’s ready to leave anyway. He’s about to tell me something else, but then Vanessa walks up.
“You girls leaving already?” she coos.
“Yes. We have family coming in early tomorrow, but it was nice meeting you,” Jordan replies. This lie rolls off her tongue with ease so I know she understands my urgency to get away. We say our goodbyes to everyone before heading to the car. Silence permeates the air on the ride home and I’m thankful for the reprieve.
“What the hell? Why was Grayson so ready for you to leave?” Jordan asks once we are back at our condo.
I let her in on the sequence of events, including telling her Grayson is the previously mentioned professor that everyone thinks is so hot. I’m embarrassed my drunken state caused me to act out of character. This is why I don’t drink.
“Wow Shiv! I wish I could have seen you in action. You are usually so shy in social settings. Not to mention he’s also taken. I’m liking this inner vixen that comes out with alcohol. I should have gotten you drunk ages ago,” she jokes.
“Whatever, you don’t have face him in class on Monday.”
“Joking aside, I hope the inner vixen seeping out this afternoon wasn’t in response to what Liam said about you. You have nothing to prove.”
Easy for her to say. It hurts to hear how unexciting your boyfriend thought you were. I don’t say this though because I don’t want to see the pity in her eyes. The tequila is doing a great job of numbing the pain. I don’t need her cooking up another intervention.
“I know, but that isn’t what happened. Grayson just caught me off guard with all that masculinity and a body that screams sex. Without the alcohol on board I could have lusted after him in private,” I smile.
Jordan agrees with my analysis of the situation. What was I thinking? Rejection twice in one week has to be some sort of record. First Liam and now the professor … ugh.
I look at the time and it’s only a little after eight. I pull my leftover veal from the refrigerator and heat it up. Surprisingly, Jordan didn’t touch her food either last night and waits for me to finish with the microwave.
“What? I was waiting until you were ready to eat yours so we could share. I ate cereal last night instead,” she explains. “Do you want to watch Vampire Diaries on the DVR?”
I am still intoxicated so I know very little attention will be given to the Salvatore bothers, but I agree anyway. Watching television series together has always been our thing. “Sure. Let me take a shower and change into my pajamas.”
After my shower, we curl up on the sofa with our blankets and leftovers to watch our missed episodes of Vampire Diaries.
I AM AWAKENED by the sound of Jordan fumbling around with pots and pans in the kitchen. She loves to cook and is actually quite good at it. Me on the other hand, not so much. It’s already nine o’clock and I need to get up. The pounding in my head protests. I will not be drinking again anytime soon. The get-together yesterday was supposed to cheer me up, but instead I’m hung over and even more bummed out.
“Rise and shine, Shiv,” Jordan sings as she enters my room carrying a breakfast tray. She’s made my favorite: French toast, scrambled eggs, and turkey sausage. She even has orange juice and Tylenol for my headache. “Scoot over. We’re going to have breakfast in bed.”
“Thanks, Jordan. You’re the very best friend a girl could have. You and a book boyfriend are all I need,” I say jokingly, trying to earn a smile from my friend, although the underlying truth of this makes me sad. Jordan embraces me with a hug and I know she sees through my futile attempts at humor.
“What are your plans for today?” she asks.
“I think I will make some soap and then study.” I make handmade natural soap using vegetable oils, butters, and essential oils as a hobby. My grandmother taught me natural soap making when I was growing up. I now make soap as a stress reliever and Jordan loves it. She refuses to use anything else.
“Great, because my stash is getting low,” she quips. “What scent are you making today?”
“Chocolate mint.” I know this is her favorite. “I’ll make you a loaf to cut as needed.” She squeals in excitement and informs me she will be leaving shortly to meet Bailey and the girls from yesterday for a day of shopping and dinner.
TRUE TO MY word, I catch up on my reading for marketing and economic classes. I decide to study first. I was guilty of sorrow-induced procrastination earlier this week. After having my fill of supply and demand curves, along with SWOT analysis, I make a cup of Earl Grey tea and gather my soap supplies. I place my iPhone on the iHome docking station and select my soap making playlist. I crank up the volume, because music is my first love, aiding my much-needed distraction from “my life.” The speakers immediately blare the lyrics of Rock the Casbah by the Solar Twins. I arrange the cocoa butter, organic cocoa powder, peppermint essential oil, sodium hydroxide (lye), and vegetable oils in the order I will mix them. The sodium hydroxide produces fumes so I turn on the air vent located above the stove. After measuring and mixing everything, I put the ingredients in my wooden loaf mold to cure also known as saponify.
When I’m satisfied my soap batch is thoroughly insulated with the quilts I have wrapped around the mold, I heat a frozen dinner, eat, shower, and call it a night. Today was the first time Liam hasn’t consumed my every thought. My love for music and soap making helps bring me a sense of calm. Okay so maybe my naughty thoughts about the professor helped too. I’m kind of nervous to face him tomorrow after my drunken attempt to feel him up, but I’ll worry about that in the morning.
MONDAY MORNING ARRIVES and it’s time to put my big girl panties on, figuratively speaking. I am determined to face Professor Michaels like my pride and sanity didn’t take a sabbatical on Saturday. I don’t have the inclination to dress to impress at seven in the morning so boyfriend sweats and tank it is. Victoria’s Secret is my go-to style for casual comfort in contrast with Jordan, who always looks her best with the latest fashion trends. That is a luxury afforded by having money. The two nickels I rub together pay my expenses for daily living. Fashion is my least priority, if it slips through the ranks at all. Jordan’s closet and her assistance with amazing consignment store finds ensure I don’t look like a hobo when we’re out together. Getting out of the shower, I look in the steamed mirror to arrange my messy bun on top of my head before slipping on my flip-flops. When I step into the kitchen, I see she has already left. The only indication that she came home last night is the Earl Grey tea waiting for me in our Keurig machine. Earl Grey is my favorite tea when I don’t have access to Starbuck’s. I smile at her thoughtfulness, grab the mug, and head to class.
I arrive with ten minutes to spare. There are students standing around outside the locked door waiting for Professor Michaels. I am deep in thought when I hear Liam call my name.
“Good morning, Shiv,” he says. I don’t want to play the part of the bitter reject so I reply despite my lack of willingness.
“Morning,” I deadpan.
When I look up at him, I’m met with glacial stares from the two blondes that flank him. Oh my God, his bimbo entourage has multiplied. It is Heather and Melissa from Friday night. Barbie has a twin. Don’t get me wrong; I have nothing against blondes—seeing as though my best friend belongs to this demographic. If they were redheads, like myself, they would be redheaded bimbos. Bimboism does not discriminate, and from the looks of it, it’s contagious. The two girls’ mannerisms are identical right down to the hyena laugh they share with the rest of us. Liam is not that funny, aarrghh! Our eardrums are saved by the arrival of the professor.
“Leave everything at the front of the class, with the exception of something to write with,” he instructs. “We are going to take a surprise quiz over your assigned reading from last week.” There is a collective groan from the class. I’m glad I actually read last night.
After everyone has handed in their multiple-choice quiz, Professor Michaels begins his lecture.
“Who can identify the ‘O’ from the SWOT analysis and give an example?” I immediately recognize this as one of the questions from the quiz.
“Miss Gallagher?” he asks.
Umm … what? “I didn’t raise my hand,” I murmur. What is he doing? I look around the room at all the eager faces and hands that are raised futilely for his attention.
“Anytime now, Miss Gallagher,” he quips.
“O is identified in the external environment as opportunities in relation to SWOT analysis. Examples may include the development of new products and services,” I answer finally—not escaping embarrassment.
“Very good.” He continues on in this fashion with different students until all questions from the quiz are covered, thus providing an indication on how we performed. I got them all right. Who knew that sorrow plus nothing else to do but study as a distraction, equals a good grade?
When class ends, Liam runs to catch up to me before I leave. “Can we talk?” he asks.
“Last time we talked it didn’t work out too well,” I answer sarcastically. “Besides, the Mattel twins are waiting for you.”
“What?” He looks confused at my jab, but then realization crosses his stupid handsome face. “Please don’t worry about Heather and Melissa. I want us to at least be friends. Can I come by later?”
I know he is feeling guilty about Friday night and is trying to ease his conscience. “Yeah, when hell freezes over,” I spit angrily. He grabs my arm in attempt to keep me from leaving. His entourage is visibly pissed at the scene he is making.
“Miss Gallagher, I need a word with you about your quiz,” Professor Michaels interrupts.
Using this moment to escape Liam’s grasp, I rush over to him. Sadness flashes again in his eyes before he heads out the door with the Mattel twins.
“Are you okay Miss Gallagher?”
“Fantastic,” I lie.
“You did great on the quiz. I didn’t really need to talk to you about it, but you looked like you could use some help getting out of a sticky situation.”
“Yeah, well thanks.” I turn on my heel and rush out the door before he can pry or worse—bring up Saturday. That would be right. Sinfully gorgeous, taken, and thoughtful. Typical. Well at least he can continue to star in my fantasies. They act nicely to keep the thoughts of Liam away.
After I attend my other two classes, I’m not in a rush to go home. I look around the campus as smiling students pass me. I find a bench underneath the trees and continue to watch student life, as it should be—fun. Maybe Liam was right. I don’t condone the cheating, but maybe we are too young to make a lifetime commitment to one another. We basically grew up together and have no comparison to what we want in a mate. I followed him blindly thinking he was my future—and our love would survive. I should have learned from my parents’ relationship that ended in divorce. The countless relationships my mother pursued after that always ended the same. The men never stayed. The grass was always greener with someone else eventually.I don’t know how long I have been sitting here watching life pass me by before I get a text from Jordan.
Jordan: Where r u?
Me: Leaving now. I had to stop by the library.
Jordan: Okay see u when u get here. I ordered pizza.
Me: K
Okay so I lied, but I needed time alone to think. Jordan has been great and I hate to be the Debbie Downer. I know I have been an emotional mess since the breakup.
Walking through the door of our condo, I see that Angie and Bailey are visiting. The girls have made margaritas and are in full gossip mode. Angie offers me a drink, but I decline. I am so not going there.
“Bailey’s birthday is in three weeks and we have decided to all go to Drai’s Hollywood,” Jordan states. “She has reserved VIP access, so there will be no waiting in line to get in.”
“It’s going to be awesome It’s swanky and classy—a nice change of pace, so we can let our hair down for the night,” Bailey adds.
“Sounds like fun,” I offer.
Jordan looks surprised. I know she was expecting to meet resistance from me, but to be truthful; I’m ready to try a different approach to life. I’m ready to be one of those people having fun. I wonder if he will be there. He is her brother. What brother would miss his sister’s birthday celebration? Do I want to see him there? Why? To be rejected again. No thanks. I don’t need another sting like that. The girls discussing the need to buy something special to wear pulls me out my reverie. I’m going to go broke hanging with these girls and their constant need to shop, but it is all part of my plan for the new me.
THE REST OF the week passes with me ignoring the concerned looks by Professor Michaels and avoiding Liam. Friday, I meet with the girls for some shopping. My goal is to find a scorching, sexy dress that will be an instant self-esteem booster and I find one that will be perfect.
After a day of shopping, Jordan mentions she and I are heading to Bailey’s house for dinner. Her parents are back and she wants to introduce us. I hope Professor Michaels will not be there, but I keep this thought to myself. When we arrive, Bailey introduces us to her mother, Vivian, and her stepdad, Ben. They insist we call them by their first names and are very welcoming. I can clearly see the similarities passed to Bailey from Vivian and as well as those passed to Professor Michaels from Ben. Their likeness is astounding. Ben is a sexy older version of his son and gives a hint at what he has to look forward to when he gets older. Vivian is a beautiful petite brunette like her daughter, but more poised. We all head to the dinner table; the place setting is impressive. The dining area seats twelve, and when we are seated, I foolishly let myself believe I have dodged the professor bullet. No such luck. He arrives with Vanessa on his arm; she looks stunning as ever in a sheath dress that hugs her like a second skin. Professor Michaels is dressed casually in faded blue jeans and a black fitted tee. He makes casual look effortless and sexy. God, I hate that he is so hot.
“I am so glad you could make it dear,” Vivian says approvingly. “We would have had to let Grayson have it if he did not bring you to dinner tonight. We need to catch up. Let’s do lunch at the country club this week. I’ll call you with the date and time.”
“Certainly. I look forward to it,” Vanessa replies.
I look at Professor Michaels, but he is avoiding eye contact with me. Instead he whispers in Vanessa ear and she rewards him with a slight giggle and light slap to the shoulder. It was probably something sexually related. Jordan is watching the scene and giving me apologetic glances when she thinks nobody is looking.
“Where are you ladies from?” Ben asks Jordan and me. This question catches Professor Michaels’ attention and he is listening for our response.
“We are from Houston, Texas,” Jordan responds for us both. “Siobhan and I moved here with another friend so we wouldn’t be alone.”
“That was quite a big move. How did your parents feel about it?” Vivian counters.
“My mother supported my college choice and it helped that I would have Jordan and Liam with me,” I provide.
“My parents felt the same way,” Jordan adds.
Vivian is quick with sorting through the details. She notices immediately that I have failed to mention my father’s input. “What about your father, Siobhan?”
“Vivian leave it. Obviously she would have mentioned him if she wanted to,” Professor Michaels speaks up.
“No, it’s fine. My father is a freelance photographer who travels around the world. We speak occasionally. He sends my mother money toward my education and supported her decision to let me go. He says I take after him because I have an adventurous get-out-and-see-the-world attitude.”
“That’s wonderful. You mentioned another friend moved here with the two of you—Liam is it? Where is he tonight? I would’ve loved to meet him too,” she responds.
“Some other time, Vivian.” Professor Michaels nips that line of questioning in the bud and I am thankful. We continue dinner, and the focus is shifted toward Vanessa’s house hunting.
TODAY IS GOING to be a better day. No more moping over Liam. I repeat this mantra a few more times to convince myself that he is not worthy of my sadness. It is indeed time to move on, especially since he moved on two weeks prior to breaking up with me. I grab my laptop to log onto Facebook. It is an attempt to bring some normalcy back into my life. I enjoy looking at the photos and status updates from friends and family back home. After responding to a couple of posts asking about the time I’m having, which I lie about, I click on Liam’s page. A glutton for punishment is my only explanation. His status change to single is not what makes me see red. He has expunged all traces of us from his page. He doesn’t have a single photo of me.
Five years are eradicated with a tap of a keystroke. A lone tear slips from my eye and runs down my heated cheek. The saltiness of it pisses me off since I declared he wouldn’t get any more tears from me. Angrily, I click on my photo album and begin to return the sentiment. Jordan picks this moment to come into my room.
“Good for you,” she says approvingly. “You are ready to move on.”
I look up at her and she now sees my tear stained face. “I’m just following his lead. He deleted all traces of me first.”
“He is such a harsh bastard. I would’ve never thought he was capable of being such an ass. I never thought he would be unfaithful either,” she huffs. “Good riddance to that jerk.”
I laugh because it was okay a second ago when she thought I was the one to initiate the deletion. Leave it to Jordan to have my back. “Yeah … good riddance!” Who says that anymore, but I’ll roll with it.
“Get your swimsuit, were heading to Venice beach. No moping will be allowed.”
I don’t protest. I rush to my room to get ready. I put on my white paisley bandeau bikini top with the matching hipkini bottoms. I throw on a pair of my famous jean cut-offs, a loose fitting tank, and my go-to flip-flops. I stray from my usually messy bun and opt for braided pigtails. Jordan walks in wearing a fire red, barely there string bikini covered by a sheer black tube dress that is meant to be a cover up.
“Let’s catch some rays, chica.”
“Are you going to invite the girls?” I secretly want to have some girl time alone with her since it has been a while, but I refuse to make her feel guilty about it.
“Bailey and Angie are going to join us later this evening, but Meghan has to bartend tonight.” Jordan pulls me in an affectionate hug, and I feel how much she cares for me. It’s always been this way between us. We both read each other well and are in tune with each other’s needs. I am so thankful for her friendship, and I know the feeling is mutual. “Come on. I want to get to the beach before one o’clock so we can find decent parking.”
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