Unraveling (Second Chances) - By Micalea Smeltzer Page 0,132
a moment longer, long enough to see that he’d passed out, and wouldn’t be saying any more.
I stood and looked down at him.
Someone sensible would be completely turned off by the fact that he was passed out drunk and by the things he had said.
But I wasn’t sensible.
I looked down at the man, wishing I could crawl inside him and chase away his demons. I wanted to make him understand that he was a good person and worthy of every good thing in life.
But Holden was Holden.
He was stubborn, hot-tempered, and moody.
No one would ever be able to change him, or make him understand that there was goodness inside of him.
Of that, I was sure.
Coming Soon
Mari Arden
ONE
Jules Hendricks has had a string of bad "firsts."
Horrible first kiss. Painful first date. Terrifying first sexual experience. Worst first boyfriend.
It's taken her years but she's finally able to leave her controlling, possessive boyfriend for a new life and a fresh start as a freshmen at UW- Madison. For Jules this chance to be independent and rebuild her life is an opportunity she won't ever let anyone take from her again. She's determined to make something of herself without a man by her side, in front, behind or anywhere near her.
Reid "Pax" Paxton is the star quarterback for the UW Badgers. His brush with death makes him understand how precious life is, and how important it is to take life by the horns, unafraid.
Jules knows he's dangerous for her. Dark hair. Smoldering eyes. Killer smile. That dimple. That body. Those arms. Pax is everything she's trying to run away from, but she can't help coming back for more. Slowly he begins to show a life together can be more than just a dream.
It can be their reality.
The truth about reality is it's not always sunshine and butterflies.
Sometimes it's a wasteland.
Sometimes secrets can't stay buried.
Sometimes your past will find a way to hunt you down.
Excerpt from One by Mari Arden
It's strangely cool outside after being in the house. It had been more packed than a chicken cage in there, and even though the noise from the party follows us, I'm calm. I sneak a peek at Pax, and can't help drinking in his profile. His dark eyes are looking straight ahead, and little stubbles of black hair poke through his chin and cheeks like a five o'clock shadow. His mouth is moving as he whistles a soft tune, and I want to place my lips there and catch the melody in my throat.
He had been the first to drop my hand when we reached the sidewalk. Disappointment swept through me quick as lightning. I should've been glad. For five hours on the Greyhound bus to Madison, I had cursed men, hating them with a deep venom that until that moment I never let myself feel. Every man I had ever been close to had disappointed me. I told myself I didn't want or need one, and my focus here was to graduate and make something of myself. For once I wanted to make myself proud. I want to be happy with the choices I make, and do things that make me happy.
Men don't make me happy.
Being with Pax right now I don't feel sad or alone or trapped. I don't feel fear.
I feel peaceful.
"Did you ever hear about the guy who died by overdosing on Viagra?"
I'm startled. "What?"
"They couldn't close his casket."
I stare at him. What the--?
He stares back. "Wait for it…"
I chew over what he says in my head. Viagra? They couldn't close his casket… Oh. "Oh." A picture of it flashes in my head and I blush and laugh at the same time.
He chuckles. "The guys told me that one the other day. Want to hear another one?"
"Um, sure."
"What's six inches long, two inches wide and drives a woman wild?"
My neck becomes redder than my face. I mumble an incoherent answer.
He looks at me innocently. "A one hundred dollar bill."
I roll my eyes. "So this is what thirty grand a year gets us, huh."
"You betcha." He mocks with a Minnesotan accent I've heard too many times already.
"I have a feeling these two blocks are going to feel like twenty."
"No, you won't regret it," he promises. I look up. His dark eyes are warm and soft. Suddenly I'm afraid if I stare into them too long I might never come out. He saves me when he turns away to face the night breeze.
"The guys are always telling me a new joke everyday."
"Why?"
"Well, I sort of collect them." His hands brush a stray hair across his eyes. "I don't write them down or anything," he explains. "If I like them I just keep them in my head. For the life of me I can't remember anything from the books we read in English Lit but for some reason I have a very good memory for jokes," he laughs.
"Are you interested in being a comedian?" I ask curiously.
"Hell no," he answers with another charming smile. Only Pax can swear and sound sexy and adorable at the same time. "I just figure life's too short to be sad or mopey all the time. So I try to keep only positive things in my head, you know like dirty sex jokes and ten different ways to cure a hangover- important, life changing things every man should know."
"I'm not sure our professors would agree with that," I comment, amused.
"They can tell me whatever they want, but what I choose to keep in my head and how I choose to live is my own choice."
His words hit me hard.
Pax looks down at me. "So now you know a random fact about me. Tell me something about you."
My teeth pull at my lips. What can I tell him that won't immediately embarrass me? I don't want to talk about how poor I was or how I had parents but felt more like an orphan. I don't want to talk about how a man dictated my life for the past half decade, and how incredibly powerless I was to stop him.
"I like grapes," I finally say.
His shoulder nudges me, but he's so tall it ends up brushing against my head. I'm forced to swerve to the side. "Deep. I feel like I really know you now, Jules."
I shrug. "There's not much to know. I'm pretty boring."
"Now I find that very hard to believe." His voice drops an octave lower, making the hair on my skin stand up. It's starting. He's going to flirt now. Confusion sweeps through me as I struggle between shying away, and meeting him in this mating game head on.
"It's true," I finally answer lamely.
"I find everything about you fascinating," he continues. I love the rumble in his voice. I hold my breath waiting to hear more of it. We stop in the middle of the sidewalk. He lifts a finger to touch the ends of my hair. "Your hair. Your beautiful grey eyes. Your lips. Your voice. I even like the shape of your knuckles," he confesses with a glint in his eye.
His words repeat in my head like an echo. My heart kicks up another level, and the cool night air from before suddenly turns desert like as heat shoots through my body. He bends his face so close to mine that his nose touches my face. "Another random fact about me? I'm patient. I know the best things in life don't come right away."
Micalea Smeltzer is an author from Virginia. Her name is pronounced Muh-call-e-uh. She is permanently glued to her computer, where she constantly writes. She has to listen to music when she writes and has a playlist for every book she’s ever started. When she’s not writing, she can be found reading a book or playing with her three dogs.