Title: Where We Belong
Author: K.L. Grayson
Genre: Adult Romance
Publish Date: September 23, 2014
Cover Photographer: Tess J Photography
Cover Designer: Wicked by Design
Organized by Literati Author Services Inc.
Synopsis
Regret . . . she's a snarky little bitch.
I’ve tried several times to regret the events that took place on June 5, 2008, but for the life of me, I can’t. I'd never regret the pain, the suffering, or the heartache because it ultimately led me to the place I am now. And I can’t regret the place I am now. What I still can't figure out is this: how is it possible that the single worst day of my life inadvertently became the very best day?
Five years ago my life was irrevocably changed.
Seventeen minutes was all it took—
to lose my best friend…
to lose the love of my life…
Seventeen minutes was all it took for the seeds of hope—the seeds of my future—to be planted in the worst possible way.
My name is Harley Thompson, and this is my story.
I’ve tried several times to regret the events that took place on June 5, 2008, but for the life of me, I can’t. I'd never regret the pain, the suffering, or the heartache because it ultimately led me to the place I am now. And I can’t regret the place I am now. What I still can't figure out is this: how is it possible that the single worst day of my life inadvertently became the very best day?
Five years ago my life was irrevocably changed.
Seventeen minutes was all it took—
to lose my best friend…
to lose the love of my life…
Seventeen minutes was all it took for the seeds of hope—the seeds of my future—to be planted in the worst possible way.
My name is Harley Thompson, and this is my story.
Excerpt
Prologue
Harley
“Holy shit
that burns!"I crinkle my nose up at the fire the tequila leaves behind.
"Pussy." Quinn laughs,
handing me a lemon and popping one in her mouth.
Flipping her off, I swivel in my
seat, watching all of the sweaty bodies fight for attention on the dance floor.
Adam Levine's seductive voice croons through the speakers, and I sway to the
beat.
My eyes wander over to the pool
table, landing on Ty. Reaching up, he runs his fingers through his shaggy,
brown hair and laughs at something someone says. His dimples take root, and his
smile lights up his face. I tilt my head to the side, a deep sigh rushing from
my lips. Ty.
We're friends.
Best friends.
That's it.
Tyson and I grew up together.
Literally. Our mothers have been best friends since the day my family moved in
next door to his when I was the ripe age of twelve months. Not only did we
learn how to walk together, we went to preschool together, learned how to drive
together, we even had our first after school detention together.
Tonight, we are celebrating
because this morning, we graduated from college together. Me, with a degree in
nursing, and Ty with his bachelor's in biology, Pre-Med.
Quinn nudges my shoulder.
"You love him. You need to tell him or you're going to regret it."
She thinks she's helping, but in all reality she is only making me wish for
things that I most certainly should not be wishing for.
"Quinn," I say, raising
my glass to the server with a quick nod, letting her know I want another.
"It's complicated."
She shakes her head with a
sarcastic laugh. "Only because you're making it. Why you two are in the
friend zone is beyond me."
The server sets down another round
of shots. "Shut up and drink. To friends!" Raising my glass I tap it
against hers, and down the shot. My head spins, signaling the beginning of a
nice buzz. I wasn't planning on getting drunk tonight, but after the bomb Tyson
dropped on me a couple of hours ago, I need this.
Tyson is standing in the doorway
to my bedroom, his hands tucked deep in his pockets. He looks off to the side.
"Harley, we need to talk." His voice is pained. He hasn't made a move
to come in. I can tell I'm not going to like this. My heart drops into the pit
of my stomach. I can feel it in my bones–something is off.
"Okaaaay, shoot." I
train my eyes on the suitcase in front me and pull out clothes. He reaches for
me, but I turn away and stuff some T-shirts in my drawer. "Moving back
home is going to take some getting used to," I murmur.
"A lot can change when you go
away to college for four years," he says, running his hand down the back
of his neck.
"Yes, it does." Opening
the closet door, I stare into the dark, empty space. "I'm definitely
finding a place of my own soon. Right after I find a job."
“Brit and I decided not to stay at
Wash U for medical school," he blurts. "She wants to be closer to her
family.” Ty wipes his hands on his jeans and fidgets as he sits on my bed. I
take a deep breath and close my eyes.
Ty shifts toward me, reaching for
my hand. This time, I don't pull away. "Please look at me, Harley. I want
you to understand what I'm saying."
I blow out the breath I didn't
know I was holding and stare at my suitcase for a few more seconds before I
look up. "Doesn't Brit's family live in New York?"
"They do." He nods.
"As soon as she told me she wanted to be near them, we applied to the
medical school at Columbia, and we've both been accepted. We, um, we leave next
week."
"What?" I gasp, jumping
up, my eyes nearly popping out of my head. "You can't be serious." My
voice rises with each word. "Just like that?" I shake my head,
refusing to accept this. "You're just going to up and leave?" I shove
a drawer closed harder than I intend, causing the mirror to shake violently.
"One week? That's it?" Tears gather in my eyes and I look away,
blinking rapidly to keep them at bay.
I will not cry.
I will not cry.
“I’m sorry, Harley," Tyson's
voice cracks. "I didn’t know how to tell you." He sighs heavily,
dropping his head. "I didn’t want to tell you.” His hands shake in his
lap, and some of my anger dissipates. The magnetic pull we've always had draws
me closer to him. My fingers itch to dive into his hair and pull him against
me. To comfort him. To comfort me. Something . . . anything to slow down
whatever storm he's battling . . . but I
don't.
“Wow," I whisper, sitting on
the bed next to him. "I’m not really sure what to say." I look up,
and our eyes meet in the mirror. “Is this what you want? I mean, she isn’t
pressuring you to do this. Right?”
He shakes his head slowly. “No,
she isn't." I reach over and grab his hand, entwining my fingers with his,
and he squeezes his eyes shut with the contact. “She’s my future, Harley,"
he says, looking up. "This is my future. Please tell me you understand.”
He clutches my hand, a silent plea for me to accept the path he’s chosen.
Don't go.
Stay.
Don't do this.
“Of course,” I whisper, my heart
breaking at the lie. Unable to hold back the tears, I let them fall silently
down my cheeks. My mind yells at me to say or do something to make him stay.
"Earth to Harley," Quinn
says, nudging me out of the emotional wrecking ball that was my morning.
I glance over at the pool table
again. Tyson's arm hangs loosely around Brit's neck. Her arms are wrapped
tightly around his body. Me. That should be me.
I watch as he wraps her perfectly
straight blonde hair around his hand and tugs hers beautifully sculpted face up
to his. He leans down, placing a gentle kiss on her pouty lips and when she
smiles, I swear, I'm blinded by her sparkling blue eyes.
I, on the other hand, was cursed
with an unruly brown rat's nest on top of my head and a pair of mossy green
eyes with a tiny button nose. Side by side, we are the princess and the frog. I
may be exaggerating a bit. I'm cute, or so I've been told, but Brit is every
man's dream. She can have any guy she wants, but she wants Tyson--my Tyson.
I sigh as he pulls her in closer.
And he wants her, too.
I hate her.
My relationship with Brit is rocky
at best. She's frequently upset with the amount of time that Ty and I spend
together. Despite our reassurances that we're just friends, she doesn't buy it.
On more than one occasion, she has tried to convince him that I was harboring
secret feelings for him. She went as far as to accuse me of using our
friendship as an excuse to spend extra time with him.
Tyson never believed her, but she
was right. I do have feelings for Ty. I’ve loved that boy since I was nine
years old. The minute he punched Jimmy Tallen in the nose for calling me ugly,
my heart belonged to him.
Telling him about my feelings
never seemed like an option. He never seemed to be into me, and I wasn't
willing to risk losing our friendship. So I sat back, watching quietly as he
dated girl after girl. I nursed his broken hearts and encouraged him to get back
on the dating wagon, as any good friend would do. Then Brit literally stumbled
into our lives, and everything changed. I didn’t like it at all.
Tyson used to know everything
about me. He knew all of my secrets, lies, and insecurities. But that isn't the
case anymore. He doesn't know my biggest secret. He doesn't know that I'm in
love with him.
Something happened when he told me
he was moving. I'm not sure what it was, but a puzzle piece was put into place
and everything became crystal clear. I had to tell him. He
can’t leave without knowing the truth. I've always been able to
predict how Tyson will react to things, but I honestly have no idea how he is
going to respond to this.
“One more shot,” I say, raising my
glass to Quinn.
Her lips curl in a devious smile.
“Someone is getting brave.”
“I need all the liquid courage I
can get.” We tap and chug.
“It’s about damn time.” She has
been trying to get me to confess my undying love to Ty for the past four years.
My head spins when I move to
stand, but it’s not because I’m drunk. Confrontations have never been my strong
suit. Not that I’m going to confront Ty in a bad way, but still.
On unsteady legs, I make my way
across the bar. Ty is playing pool with Levi and Cooper, his college roommates.
This is the perfect time to approach him since Brit is standing at an adjacent
table talking to some of her friends. I would prefer her to not be present for
this conversation.
Levi greets my intrusion with a
hug. “Hello, gorgeous.” His hand roams down the small of my back, and I smack
it away playfully.
Poking his chest, I give him a
firm look. "No ass grabbing tonight," I scold.
I lean against the back wall as
Cooper sweeps the table and that's my cue. Wasting no time, I kick off the wall
and approach Ty. “Hey, got a sec?”
He cocks his head to the side,
giving me a lopsided grin that makes my insides melt and my knees wobble.
“Anything for you, you know that.”
Taking a deep cleansing breath, I
calm my nerves. “Can we step outside? Maybe somewhere a little more quiet?”
Tyson purses his lips, tilting his
head to the side, but he doesn’t protest. Instead, he places his hand at the
small of my back and steers me toward the side door.
“I think there are some tables
outside in the back,” he says quietly.
I nod once and continue for the
exit. Tyson opens the door and a warm rush of hot air greets us. I look around,
not finding any tables. Ty guides me to the right and toward the back of the
building where we spot some picnic tables, while I give myself a silent pep
talk.
You can do it.
What’s the worse that could
happen?
Don’t forget to breathe.
We come to a stop by a table and I
grab Ty's arm, preventing him from sitting. “I think you’re going to want to
stand for this.”
I know him all too well and I’m
sure that within the next two minutes he’ll be pacing like a bull.
“Okay. You’re starting to make me
nervous, Harley. Is everything okay?” He runs his hands through his hair,
giving it that I-just-had-wild-monkey-sex look, and then he shoves them both
into his pockets.
I take a deep breath and blow it
out slowly. It’s now or never. “I love you.”
Smiling sweetly, he replies, “I
love you, too.”
I shake my head, pinning him with
my stare, trying to convey just how much my feelings have morphed from
friendship into something more. “No. I love you, love you, Ty.”
At first he just looks at me, and
I’m not completely sure he understands what I’m saying.
But then I see it.
Acceptance, relief, and fear flash
quickly through his eyes before they settle on me. Written all over his face is
the one thing that makes this all worth it: love. Pure love.
My body sags with relief. This
was the right move.
My small bubble of hope is quickly
popped as Tyson's expression changes. His face turns cold. His eyebrows narrow.
He shakes his head slowly. He looks over at me and then stares at the ground,
clenching his fists. When his eyes land back on mine, the love that I saw a
second ago is gone. But it was there. I saw the adoration in his eyes.
“Don’t leave. Please don’t leave,”
I beg. My voice is panicky. Desperation takes over. I cling to his arms, trying
to get him to look at me, but he shrugs me away. “Stay. Please stay. Stay here
with me. I love you.” My words rush out, tumbling over each other. I just can’t
stop them. “I know you’re my best friend, but I love you. I’m in love with you. I want to be with you,
Ty. Give me a chance…give us a chance.” I reach slowly for his hand, needing to
make some sort of contact, but he pushes me away. With his fingers tightly
laced together, he places his hands on his head and paces in circles.
"I know I'm asking a
lot," I say, my voice thick with emotion. "I should have told you a
long time ago, but I didn't, and I can't change that now."
Tyson keep walking in circles,
clenching and unclenching his fists.
I take a hesitant step toward him.
"I know that this is incredibly selfish of me. I know I'm asking you to
give up everything but---"
"I can't believe this is
happening," he interrupts. I don't respond because I'm not given the
chance. "How long, Harley? How long have you felt like this?"
"Years."
"Years?" he asks
incredulously, his eyebrows arched.
I nod my head, swallowing hard,
suppressing the tears threatening to fall.
His head drops down. His voice is
quiet but full of curiosity. "Why now, Harley? Why not a year ago, a month
ago, or hell, a week ago? Why now?"
"Because I was scared. You're
too important to me, Ty. " My voice cracks when I say his name and a fat
tear streaks down my cheek. "I didn't want to risk our friendship. I
didn't want to lose everything we have if you didn't feel the same way." I
squeeze my eyes shut and hang my head in regret. I should have told him sooner,
but I've come this far and I'm sure as hell not giving up now. Wiping away the
wetness under my eyes, I step in Ty's path, preventing further pacing.
"Would it have mattered? If I would have told you a year ago, a month ago,
or a week ago . . . would it have mattered?"
His eyes are downcast, and his
lips are tilted in a frown. My chest tightens. My hand twitches, wanting to
touch him, but I don't.
"Yes," he whispers,
looking up at me. "It would have mattered."
"Then it matters now!" I
snap. "If it would have mattered then, then it matters now. We can do
this, Ty. You just have to take the chance. Please take the chance.
Please," I beg.
His emotions shift once again as
anger and resentment visibly overtake the sadness. Reaching for his head, Ty
grips his hair tightly and a deep growl rips from his throat. "Damn it,
Harley." His voice is low and hard. My eyes widen in shock at the menacing
glare he shoots at me. "What the fuck do you want me to say to that?
You're doing this because I told you I'm leaving. Do you realize what you're
asking? You're asking me to uproot my entire life. Do you know the work it took
to transfer medical schools? And what about Brit?" His mouth parts and a
look of horror overcomes his features. "Brit," he mumbles to himself.
“Fuuuuuck. Brit was right.”
He begins to mumble. I’m not sure
if he is talking to himself or to me, but his words are like a punch to the
gut. “Brit told me you had feelings for me. I didn’t listen. I defended you. I
mean . . . I had hoped you did, but I didn't know. I told her she was wrong and
that she was just jealous.” He looks up at me, eyes wide with shock. “But she was right. My god! All those times I left
her to spend time with you . . .” His words drop off but quickly resume. “I
told her there was no way you felt that way about me because you're my best
friend.” He stops pacing and turns to face me, but his eyes are trained on the
ground.
Silence consumes us. Tension fills
the air.
“Ty, say something please,” I
whisper. “Please tell me what you’re thinking. You’re my best friend, and I
know you feel like I’m just throwing this at—"
“But you are,” he interrupts
loudly. “You are just throwing this at me, Harley!” I grip my hands tightly in
front of me, wringing my fingers together in pure desperation. My heart slams
in my chest. I know he feels the same way. He loves me. I saw it in his eyes. I
just have to convince him that this is right.
I wait patiently for him to
continue, but when his hard gaze lands on me, my hope vanishes into thin air.
My heart plummets to the ground. His lips are set in a firm line, and his
eyebrows are dipped low in disappointment.
“I’m with Brit,” he states firmly.
“And I’m not going to hurt her; I can’t." He shakes his head. "She
hasn’t done anything to deserve that…to deserve this," he says, waving his
hand between the two of us. The pacing continues, back and forth in front of me
until he finally removes his hands from his hair and places them on his hips.
He turns to face me. There is a finality in his eyes that causes my resolve to
crumble. I throw a hand up to my mouth, but I can't stop the sob that slips
out.
“Harley . . .” He trails off; his
eyes are searching mine, for what, I’m not sure. “Harley, I can't do this. I'm
sorry, but I just can't.” He pauses again, taking a second to sit down on the
table. Placing his elbows on his knees, he bends forward and lowers his head.
His voice is so soft that I almost don’t hear his final words. “We need to step
back and take a break. From our friendship, Harley . . . We need to take a step
back from our friendship.”
I cry, and my body trembles.
"No." My hands shake, and my mind works furiously to find a way to
fix this. "No," I repeat desperately. "We don't need to take a
step back. We need to move forward." I crouch down in front of Ty and grip
his fisted hands in mine. "Please give me a chance. I know you're scared,
but I promise, you won't regret it; you won't regret me." My eyes flicker
across his face, pleading with him to take this leap.
He exhales loudly and raises his
face. “I can’t believe you're doing this to me. To Brit. Now. When I’m supposed
to be moving to New York in a week. A fucking week, Harley!” Standing abruptly,
his eyes lock onto something over my left shoulder, but I can’t tear my eyes
away from him to find out what it is. “I can’t do this. I won't do it.” His
voice is laced with decisiveness and a cold shiver of realization trembles
through me. “I’m leaving next week for New York. With Brit. It's best for my
relationship with her if you and I don’t talk . . . at least not until I can
sort through all of this in my head.”
His words hit me like a knife to
the chest. He can't mean that. He's just shocked. "We can't be friends?"
I hiccup, gripping my chest where I'm sure there's a gaping whole from his
words. “Please don’t do this. Please, Ty! I’m sorry.” I grab his arm, forcing
him to face me. “I’m so sorry. Please forgive me, forget I said anything. I can’t lose you, I won’t lose you.” My tears fall freely. I’ve
stopped wiping them away; there’s just no point.
I startle when I hear someone
behind me clear their throat. I turn slowly and find myself face-to-face with
Brit. I’m not sure how long she's been standing there, but based on the look on
her face, I’d say she pretty much knows what’s going on.
Ty moves to walk around me, and I
quickly grab his wrist. “Please Ty,” I whisper. Gently removing my hand, he
reaches for Brit, entwining his fingers with hers. Without a glance back, they
walk in the door.
Slumping down onto the picnic
table, I close my eyes, praying that this was all a bad dream and I just have
to wake up. Realistically, I know it’s not, but there is always that small
window of time right after something horrible happens that you feel like if you
hope and pray hard enough you can actually rewind time and undo the damage.
I grip my hair tightly at the
scalp and watch as my tears cascade off of my face and hit the table below. I'm
not sure how long I sit but eventually I get up and pace the alley behind the
bar, trying to wrap my head around everything that just happened.
What on earth have I done?
He can’t seriously end our
friendship.
He can’t really walk away.
There is way too much history for
him to do that. Right?
A gravelly slurred voice
interrupts my thoughts. "Harley? That you?" The hair on the back of
my neck stands up and I squint through my tears, trying to see who the drunken
voice belongs to. Relief washes over me at the familiar face. I try to respond,
but a deep sob comes out instead. He moves to my side quickly. "You're
crying," he says, putting a comforting hand to my back. "Please don't
cry."
I normally wouldn't get this close
to someone who isn't Tyson or Quinn, but right now I need the familiarity. I
need the comfort that he offers, and in a desperate move, I wrap my arms around
his middle, bury my face in his chest, and cry like I've never done before.
The stench of smoke deeply rooted
in his shirt fills my nostrils and the stale odor of liquor makes me sick as he
whispers calming words in my ear. I should be worried. I've heard that he's
gotten into some heavier drugs recently, but I know I'm safe.
We stand there for several
minutes, neither of us saying a word. His body sways slightly to the left. I
grip him tightly to steady his balance and raise my face to his. "Are you
okay?"
His red-rimmed , glossy eyes lock
onto mine, but he doesn't respond. I watch his expression change. A shiver runs
up my spine as goose bumps take over my body. "Are you okay?" I
repeat, trying to keep the fear out of my voice. Loosening my grip, I attempt
to step back, but his arms tighten around me.
"You always smelled so
good," he slurs, eyes roaming my face. His hand slides up my back and to
my neck. He wraps his fingers around my hair and tugs, forcing my head to snap
back. Leaning into me, he runs his nose up the side of my neck and my stomach
churns. "I would have given you anything. But I wasn't good enough for
you, was I?" I don't respond and he yanks my hair again, causing my back
to arch. "Was I?" he seethes.
I’ve never been in a situation
where I feel legitimately uncomfortable in the presence of another human being,
but right here . . . in this second . . . I am terrified. Adrenalin courses
through my body. My heart slams violently in my chest and my muscles tense as
terror washes through me. I squeeze my eyes tightly shut. A sharp pain rips
through my scalp. My face smacks the ground, and a metallic taste fills my
mouth.
Please God. Please let me survive
this.
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Author Information
K.L. Grayson resides in a small town outside of St. Louis, Missouri. She is entertained daily by her extraordinary husband who will forever inspire every good quality she writes in a man. Her entire life rests in the palm of six dirty little hands, and when the days is over and those six little hands have been washed and tucked into bed . . . and the stars align, you can find K.L. typing away furiously on her computer. K.L. has a love for alpha males, brownies, reading, tattoos, sunglasses, and happy endings . . . and not particularly in that order.
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