Beth Michele Love Love

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.Copyright © 2013 by Beth MicheleSmashwords Edition 2013***Copyright © 2013 by Beth MicheleSmashwords Edition 2013Cover Design by Richard LucianoEditing by Erin Roth, Wise Owl EditingInterior design by Angela McLaurin, Fictional FormatsAll rights reserved.No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing.This is a work of fiction.Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission.The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owner.All rights reserved.***PrologueChapter OneChapter TwoChapter ThreeChapter FourChapter FiveChapter SixChapter SevenChapter EightChapter NineChapter TenChapter ElevenChapter TwelveChapter ThirteenChapter FourteenChapter FifteenChapter SixteenChapter SeventeenChapter EighteenChapter NineteenChapter TwentyChapter Twenty-OneChapter Twenty-TwoChapter Twenty-ThreeChapter Twenty-FourChapter Twenty-FiveChapter Twenty-SixChapter Twenty-SevenChapter Twenty-EightChapter Twenty-NineChapter ThirtyChapter Thirty-OneChapter Thirty-TwoChapter Thirty-ThreeChapter Thirty-FourChapter Thirty-FiveChapter Thirty-SixChapter Thirty-SevenEpilogueAcknowledgementsAbout the AuthorFor Clara.Your spirit wraps around my heart,but I miss your smile every day.***This was the moment I’d waited for my entire life, or so I thought.That’s if you consider twenty-two years an entire life.It started out as a perfect day, but perfection can be an illusion.Our blue gowns were fanning the breeze as we made our way up to the podium.The wind blowing through my hair made me feel alive and free.I was inches away from my long awaited independence.All those days I sat on the bleachers, watching UC Berkeley football games and daydreaming about life after college, and it was finally here.My feet were making their way up the stairs quickly.They had a mind of their own and I had difficulty keeping up with them.They obviously knew something I didn’t.Mr.Shorley shook my hand firmly as he happily handed me my degree.The sun’s rays bouncing off the paper gave it a rare glow.This was my golden ticket.Even better than a lifetime supply of Wonka bars.As I walked across the stage, I caught a glimpse of Clark and Fran.Clark gave me a wink that made my insides melt, and Fran mooned me.Her heart-shaped ass catching the summer wind was her unusual way of congratulating me.It made me smile.My parents however, didn’t have the same reaction; I caught their grimaces, the warm air surrounding me suddenly stale and cold.The graduation party at my house was rip-roaring.The music was blaring, the alcohol flowing, and the hips grinding.The party was a lot more than my parents bargained for when they agreed to it.The adults were outside on the moonlit patio, tossing down hard liquor and blowing smoke rings, while the graduates were inside bringing down the house.I was with my two favorite people.Clark Thompson, my boyfriend since high school, and Fran Heller, my best friend of fifteen years.Fran and I met in fourth grade.Her mom moved her from the Bronx to California to get away from her physically abusive asshole dad.She’s had a tough life, but given the hand she was dealt, she always manages to remain optimistic.I admire that about her.She comes across like she’s hard when really, she’s anything but.Thinking about Fran always makes me smile.We had an instant connection.They used to call me “Candy Girl” in elementary school because I was always either eating candy or giving it away.From the moment Fran slipped a Hershey’s Bar under my desk in fourth grade, she had me, and we had each other.Clark and I met our sophomore year of high school.I was standing at my locker in between classes and the hallway was packed.My head was buried in books when something crashed hard against my back.Turned out it was Gavin Boone, quarterback of our crappy football team.He wasn’t looking where the hell he was going, lucky for me.I was knocked to the ground, and when I looked up, I was met by baby blues and a forehead crinkle.Clark.“You okay?” he asked.“Never better,” I said, rolling my eyes, trickles of pain shooting up my spine.In the midst of the run in, my bag spilled with all of my personal belongings.I watched in horror as the evidence of my adolescence covered the ground.Clark bent down to help me, and without batting an eye, proceeded to scoop up the Playtex tampons and put them back in the box.He made a beeline right for them.Who does that? When he was done, he bumped my shoulder and shrugged his.“It’s just life, right?”He was the one who embraced my soul in the palm of his hands.The one who lent his ear while I rambled endlessly about my parents and all their bullshit.He was the one who supported me when I fell on my ass and the one whose broad shoulders carried all of my tears.Clark introduced me to surprises.Bringing me flowers after school just because.Leaving bags of Hershey’s Kisses in my locker with little notes like “I love you, sweetness.” Even blindfolding me and taking me on little adventures to the beach, my favorite place in the world.God, I loved Clark.He made me giggle and gave me those crazy butterflies.In high school, we’d make out under the bleachers, in his car, basically anywhere we could get our hands on each other.A single wink from him would cause my heart to explode, and that musky scent of his drove me beyond the borders of desire.I lost my virginity to Clark when we were seventeen.We were so in love, and while it was incredibly romantic, honestly, it hurt like hell.Nothing like you see in the movies.But Clark was gentle and sweet, and never made me feel the least bit embarrassed or uncomfortable, even when he saw spots of blood on the sheet.While Clark had experienced sex before, that was my first time, and it was glaringly obvious.Nonetheless, I’ll never forget it.He moved inside of me with such tenderness and cradled me with his touch.Afterwards, he gently touched his lips to mine before walking away and coming back with a warm washcloth.“Let me clean you up Angel.” Could he have been any sweeter?“Gabby.” A voice startled me from my nostalgic moment.My beloved mother.It’s fascinating that even over the loud music, I could still hear the shrill of her voice.“I’d like to speak with you for a minute.”I cupped my hand to my ear [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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