A day that forever changes the destiny of college overachiever, Michelle Rhodes.
Shattered, confused and alone, no one understands the trauma consuming her until she meets Connor Donnelly.
A native New Yorker, he believes he can aid in getting her life back on track. But what if he's even more broken inside?
Offering her a chance at a fresh start, Connor convinces Michelle to move in with him. Hiring her to waitress at his bar, their mutual attraction only complicates matters.
As more details surrounding Connor's past emerge, Michelle uncovers the full magnitude of the loss he's trying to hide. Refusing to let her feelings for him hinder his recovery, she makes a decision that winds up hurting them both.
By sacrificing her heart, Michelle thinks she is helping Connor come to terms with his grief. Little does she know, Connor is gambling everything for the sake of having a future with her.
What happens is truly unexpected.
A native New Yorker, he believes he can aid in getting her life back on track. But what if he's even more broken inside?
Offering her a chance at a fresh start, Connor convinces Michelle to move in with him. Hiring her to waitress at his bar, their mutual attraction only complicates matters.
As more details surrounding Connor's past emerge, Michelle uncovers the full magnitude of the loss he's trying to hide. Refusing to let her feelings for him hinder his recovery, she makes a decision that winds up hurting them both.
By sacrificing her heart, Michelle thinks she is helping Connor come to terms with his grief. Little does she know, Connor is gambling everything for the sake of having a future with her.
What happens is truly unexpected.
~Tease~
Chapter Five
My parents are worried about me. They know I’m damaged, but they don’t know how to fix me. It’s moments like this when being an only child sucks. Their belief in me is what drives them, and I let them down big time. They’ve never seen me fail before, and they don’t know how to handle it. I’ve shaken them to their core, and I didn’t mean to do that. It’s almost cruel. All of the sacrifices they’ve made on my behalf—were they worth it? I’d have to say no.
Tonight, they really want me to go to the New Year’s Eve party my friend, Heather, is throwing at her parents’ house. She’s home on break, and they think it’ll be good for me to get out and socialize with people my own age. I’ve kept myself pretty isolated since I ran home with my tail between my legs. I wasn’t up to rehashing things over and over again. But maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to get out—at least for a little while.
I admit that tending to my appearance is no longer on the top of my priority list. I’ve really let myself go. I never regained the weight I lost, so I appear gaunt instead of thin. I haven’t gotten a hair cut since the summer, and I haven’t even worn makeup in months. I guess I can twist my long brown hair and pin it up, and maybe I’ll wear a simple black sweater with a pair of jeans that I can belt. With some industrial strength under-eye concealer, I might look presentable. But I can’t summon any feeling of excitement. I feel nothing.
The party is already in full swing when I arrive. There’s no way I’ll be able to slip in unnoticed. I’ll be on everyone’s radar as soon as I walk through the door—something I’m not exactly looking forward to. I’m ‘the 9/11 girl,’ the only person from our small town who was there that day. And of course, people can’t wait to hear all about it even if all I have to say is that I was scared shitless in my apartment for three days. But still, their insatiable curiosity doesn’t make me want to talk about it. They weren’t there; they don’t know.
I can hear ‘I’m Real’ by Ja Rule and J-Lo all the way down the street. It doesn’t get more ghetto than a party in the suburbs. Judging by the familiar cars parked outside, a lot of people I graduated high school with are here. On the landing, I pause with my finger on the doorbell. Do I really want to face these people? Am I ready for this?
“Having second thoughts?” a voice asks out of the darkness.
The front porch swing is moving slightly. At the end of it, I discern the silhouette of a guy. He bends forward to light a cigarette, and I catch a glimpse of his face. He’s not somebody I know. Relief washes over me. Maybe I can stall for time out here.
Taking a step back, I put my hands in my coat pockets and move away from the light emanating from the window. I’m more comfortable hiding in the shadows.
He doesn’t press me for a response, but I can sense him watching me. Hopefully, he’ll keep his distance.
The swing creaks as I sit on the opposite side. My movement interrupts his steady rhythm, but he doesn’t reproach me for the intrusion. Flicks of ash hit the wooden floor as he inhales again.
“Is that weed?” I blurt out before I can stop myself, breaking the silence.
His only response is a chuckle.
The swing remains in motion. The shared responsibility of keeping it going creates a sense of familiarity, even though we’re complete strangers.
He shifts his position to face me, studying my profile. Rising to the challenge, I turn my head.
Our eyes lock.
I want to look away, but I can’t.
He doesn’t appear stoned. His gaze is focused, steady.
Taking one last hit, he tosses what’s left of the cigarette, putting it out with his boot. Placing his hands on his knees, he glances at me over his shoulder. “Michelle, I think it’s time you came back to New York with me.”
{End of Tease}
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About the Author
I really hate talking about myself. My goal is to have the shortest author bio imaginable. I would much rather have a conversation with my readers.
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~Maria
