And there's more. For this first look at the cover Friday, I thought I'd also share all of Chapter 1. I'm still polishing, but please enjoy this sneak peek at Brittany and Ryder's story.
***
Chapter 1: Brittany
Fifteen dollars changed my life.
Well, fifteen dollars and the countless orgasms gifted to me by my best friend’s older brother.
Or maybe it was the two blue lines in a little window of the fifteen-dollar pregnancy test…
“Hello, earth to Brittany,” my best friend, Krista, says from beside the king-size bed in our hotel room. “Are you going to stand in the doorway for the whole weekend, or did you want to come in?”
I maneuver my carry-on through the door and nearly trip over it as it catches on the carpet.
“There’s only one bed.”
We’ve shared a bed before. Plenty of times. We’ve been best friends since we were eight years old. But we always get two queen beds on our girls’ trip weekends.
The weekends that are going to be very limited in the foreseeable future.
“I told Ryder I didn’t care. You never use your bed anyway.” With a saucy wink at me, she parks her small suitcase on one side of the bed.
“You told your brother that?” My pitch is so high I’m sure only dogs can hear me as I finish the question.
“Chill. It’s not like he would judge.”
He better not, considering his bed is the one I do use on our trips. Not that Krista knows that.
And that isn’t even the biggest secret I’m keeping from her. Not since I took that test.
For nine years, every time she and I have planned our trips to coincide with one of his concerts, I’ve had sex with her older brother. Mind-blowing, toe-curling, multiple-orgasming, scream-his-name sex.
“I know you two don’t get along, but this is a big deal for him. Downfall’s residency in Vegas means they don’t have to tour so much. My mom is ecstatic that he’s only a short plane ride away,” she says.
Did I mention my partner in all that toe-curling sex is a guy I can’t stand to have a conversation with? He’s arrogant, entitled, and a downright jackass. Except in bed.
The first time it happened was absolutely a one-off. Too many shots of tequila. Too many snarky comments that caused his eyes to light up in a way that ignited a fire in my core and had my lady bits sitting up and begging like a puppy for a treat. It was only going to be the one time.
Then it happened again.
And then a third time. And, well, it kept happening. So much so that this year, I’ve been taking trips to meet up with him in other places on his tour. We’ve been scratching an itch that can’t be soothed.
Or we were. Until those two fucking lines.
Now, though, I have a sneaking suspicion it’s all over. I’m going to do the right thing and let him know. He can be involved or not. Either way, I’m keeping this baby. I’ve got a place to live back home in Aspen Falls, Colorado, and I’ve got a job working for my brother, Jagger.
I can do this.
On my own if I have to.
My stomach chooses that moment to gurgle and spin. I have thirty seconds to find a toilet or a trash can.
I bolt into the bathroom, making it in the nick of time to lose my meager lunch from the airport.
“Are you sick?” Krista follows me into the tiled room and lifts the hair off the back of my neck as I pray to the porcelain god in front of me.
“No,” I gasp out between heaves. Once the universe grants me a reprieve from expunging my internal organs, I take several deep breaths. Then I grab several squares of toilet paper and wipe my mouth. “Probably motion sickness.”
You spelled morning sickness wrong.
Only it isn’t limited to the mornings. It’s a whenever-it-feels-like-it level of hell that no one ever talks about.
“Do you need anything? Sprite? Ginger ale? Food?”
My stomach heaves at the mention of food, and I shake my head. “I think I just want my toothbrush and a nap before the show tonight.”
“Yeah, sure. Wait right there.” She bounces up like the Energizer Bunny.
I have no interest in waiting on the bathroom floor, so I stand and move toward the sink at a glacial pace.
Once I’ve got minty-fresh breath and feel more human, I wave her in the direction of the Strip visible outside our windows.
I can’t say many nice things about Ryder. He’s an asshole. Always has been. But he’s not a cheap asshole. I’ll give him credit for that.
“You should go have fun. Find your brother and catch up. It’s been a while since you saw him.”
The last time she and I attended a concert together was almost a year ago.
The last time I saw Ryder, though, was only eight weeks ago.
She studies me, worrying her lower lip. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.” With a jaw-cracking yawn, I climb into bed and rest my head against the pillows.
“I should check in with him. Find out when Mom and Dad are arriving. He wants the whole family to see his first Vegas show. Isn’t that sweet?”
More like he wants to show off for his family and his fans and be the perfect son.
“If you say so,” I tell her, closing my eyes and sinking into the mattress.
“I wish the two of you could stand to be in the same room. I always wanted you to date. You’d have cute babies.”
My eyes fly open, and I sit up. My heart practically leaps out of my chest as it takes off. “What?”
“You and Ryder,” she says with a wicked smile. “You don’t realize how good the two of you look together. I always thought—”
“Never gonna happen.” The bitterness of the lie burns my throat.
She sighs. “I know, but a girl can wish, right? Okay, I’m gonna get out of here. Enjoy your nap.”
She grabs her phone and purse, and between one breath and the next, she’s out the door.
Hurricane Krista. The endearment fits her as much now as it did when Ryder coined it when we were nine.
What is he going to think of all this? I lift a hand to my still-flat stomach and splay my fingers along the skin there.
“I guess we’ll find out,” I say out loud.
Drifting to sleep, I dream of our baby. Krista is right. Ryder and I do make beautiful babies.
Brittany and Ryder's story will be here before you know it, so preorder your copy now!
