Absolutely Unforgivable

Absolutely Unforgivable

Tracy Tegan

Table
of Contents

Chapter 1 - First Impressions

Chapter 2 - Our First Date

Chapter 3 - Our New Life

Chapter 4 - Rowdy’s

Chapter 5 - New Life, New Clothes

Chapter 6 - Betrayed By My Dreams

Chapter 7 – Girls, Girls, Girls

Chapter 8 - Caught

Chapter 9 - Meet My Mom

Chapter 10 - Happy 4th of July

Chapter 11 - Out Like a Light

Chapter 12 - Recovery

Chapter 13 - All Alone

Chapter 14 - Homecoming

Chapter 15 - Good Morning Houston

Chapter 16 - Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow

Chapter 17 - Second Chances

About The Author

Tracy Tegan spent the last seventeen years as a dot com strategy consultant and has worked as a professional blogger about relationships, dating and issues pertaining to gender equality.

You can find out more about Tracy Tegan by visiting her on the web at
http://www.TracyTegan.com
, via email [email protected] or by visiting the official Facebook fan page at
Facebook/TracyTegan
. You can also follow her on twitter @
TracyTegan
.

Thanks dpgroup forum.

Chapter 1 - First Impressions

Today is the first day of the rest of your life.
I've always hated that saying. It seemed so fake, like someone was trying too hard to be philosophical when they said it. But today, that stupid saying has deep and profound meaning to me.

I am happy but still nervous. However, as I sat across from Jeromy in the car that was taking us to the airport, I looked at his adorable smile and knew that everything was going to be okay. I couldn't help but consider how incredibly lucky I was to be with him. He was insanely good looking. I still can't believe sometimes he is with me.

I remember the first time we met. While in college, I was working at a bar near campus to make some extra money. He strode in the door with such confidence. He looked like every woman's fantasy lover come true. His observant eyes took in everything. He had devilishly dark hair and seductive green eyes that drew your gaze to his.

I wanted to look away but I just couldn’t. It took several seconds for me to appreciate the sight of him as he sat down at the bar in front of me. I noticed right away he was handsome and so did everyone else. He made all the girls stare.

Our eyes clashed and a wry smile lifted the corner of his mouth as I approached him about what his drink order would be. I gave him a polite smile in return as he ordered a beer. I handed it to him and walked away as swarms of drunken college girls rushed over to introduce themselves.

I had seen enough to know to avoid that kind of guy. Good looking guys like him could have any girl they wanted and typically preferred them in short stints and I wasn't looking for a one night stand. Still, his emerald eyes were breathtaking, almost mesmerizing.

As he stood up to go to the bathroom his t-shirt pulled away exposing a bit of his muscular stomach. I couldn’t see all of it but I imagined he had a nice six-pack under that shirt. He had on black jeans which he probably had to peel off at night, which showed off his great ass.

God, did I seriously just think that? What is wrong with me?
I know how men like that are. I need to get my head back on straight and focus on work. He was a temptation I didn't need in my life right now. The night was almost over and he had his pick of the litter. I had to get home and study for my English Lit test.

When he reappeared at the bar, he waved me over to him to order another beer. I returned with his order, gave him another polite smile and walked away. He seemed taken aback that I didn’t stand around and try and chat with him more. But even if I wanted to, I wasn’t going to try and compete for his attention with the throngs of girls that now surrounded him.

At the end of the night I was making my way to my car and noticed he had parked right next to me. He was leaning on the passenger side door of his car speaking with a girl. She was giggling and giving him her number. I could hear her tell him that he better call her. I’m not even sure if you could call that monster he drove a car. Maybe it’s better defined as a tank.

When I got in my own car I looked at myself in the rear view mirror.
Why am I letting this guy get in my head?
I’m not bad looking. I’m in great shape, I have really long, wavy blonde hair that I love, and people have always told me that I have a smile that would melt any man’s heart. I have full lips. Sure, maybe not Angelina Jolie full but still, I’ve gotten quite a few compliments on them.

I took a deep breath and forced myself to stop looking in the mirror and over-analyzing myself. I put my key in the ignition, turned it and heard a click, click, click and then nothing.
Great, my battery is dead. Just what I needed.
I sat back for a moment trying to think about what I was going to do. I guess I could go inside and see if anyone had any jumper cables. Maybe one of the bouncers would be able to help me.

While I was lost deep in that thought, Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome came over and was tapping at my window. It startled me. I didn’t see him walking my way. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I noticed you were having car trouble.”

I sighed and opened the door so we could talk. “Yes, the battery seems to be dead. Any chance you have some jumper cables?” Here I spent my whole night trying to avoid him and now I am forced into asking him for help.
Could this night get any worse?

“Pop the hood and let’s have a look,” he said as he tapped his hand on the front of my car.

Seriously? He’s good looking and he knows about cars too? Now I was impressed.
I fiddled around until I found the right button. He looked under my hood for just a second, and as I was getting out, he walked over to his own and pulled out his jumper cables. I leaned over the hood and watched him closely as he attached them to my car, then his own, and before long my car was ready to go.

He disconnected the cables, and I stood back as he closed the hood of my car and then his own. “I’ll tell you a little secret, if you leave your lights on it tends to wear the battery down,” he said with a playful grin on his face.

I looked down at my headlights that were beaming brightly and suddenly I felt a wave of embarrassment come over me. He wiped the dirt he had gotten on his jeans and then stuck his hand out to mine to shake it. “I’m Jeromy Fagen.”

I felt my hands begin to tremble as I tried to answer him. When I finally managed to speak my words stumbled over one another. “I’m Stacy, Stacy Keller. I haven’t seen you around here before. Are you new to the area?” I don’t know why I felt so intimidated by this guy. I guess it was because he looked so divine.

“Yes, I am, actually. I’m originally from Texas.”

“What in the world brings you to Tulsa of all places?”

He told me as he was putting the jumper cables in the back seat of his car and slamming the door shut, “I’m here for work. I’m in the oil industry. We have some property in the area we are looking into.”

Figures
. It seems that most people that come here are either looking into the University of Tulsa, or somehow related to the oil and gas industry.

He walked up and stood next to me, leaning against the side of my car. “And how about you?”

“Tulsa girl, born and raised,” I said with a sheepish grin on my face.

“Well then, maybe you can show me around sometime,” he said as he handed me his card with his cell number and email address on it.

I hesitated before taking the card. I didn’t want to appear rude; after all, he did just help me jump start my car. But I knew even if I did put it in my purse just to be polite, I would never call him. Even if I was the kind of girl who called guys, which I most definitely was not, I wasn’t the kind of girl who was stupid enough to call him. I had seen the girls swooning over him tonight. I’m just not into that kind of guy. I want someone who only has eyes for me. I want someone who makes me feel special. I don’t want to feel like I have to get in line and take a number.

As I politely tucked his business card into my purse, I thanked him for his chivalry and let him know it was late and I had to be up early tomorrow for an English Lit test that I wasn’t looking forward too.

When I got home I did my best to fall asleep, but it wasn’t easy. I couldn’t get Jeromy out of my mind. Just as I started to fade into a deep slumber something struck me. Work required the female staff all wear low cut shirts and as a result, when most men spoke to me to give me their order, they did so while staring at my chest. I didn’t really mind all that much, and if it meant bigger tips, all the better.

But Jeromy didn’t do that. When he had ordered his drinks, he spoke to my face and not my breasts. I don’t know why I didn't notice earlier. I guess I was so used to every man doing it, I just didn’t give it much thought any more.


About a week later Jeromy made his way back to the bar. Just as before all the girls stared as he walked in and sat down in front of me. “You didn’t call me,” he said with an almost sad look on his adorable sexy face.

I looked up at him to say I was sorry but was taken aback by the stare that had such depth you could be consumed by his eyes alone. “I’m sorry,” I said softly. “I meant to, I really did, I just got so busy with work and school, time escaped me.”

I immediately felt bad for blatantly lying to him like that, but there really was no point in me calling him. Jeromy just isn’t my type. I don’t think I could date a man who was so damn good looking. He can’t even walk into a room without all the heads turning his way. I don’t like being the center of attention. That would drive me crazy.

Just then a drunken college girl came up to him and asked if she could buy him a drink. She was a tiny little thing, who barely weighed a hundred pounds, and had overly large breasts that were falling out of her tight red dress which didn’t leave much to the imagination. Luckily I didn’t need to worry if he’d seen through my lie about meaning to call him because he was distracted with other things at that moment.

“Thanks, but I’ve already got one coming; maybe next time though,” he said to the girl with a genuine sweetness about him. Maybe I had judged him wrong. Maybe he wasn’t this heartless pig that I had made him out to be in my mind.
Or maybe he was
, I thought as I caught him checking out the girl’s body as she walked away.

When he turned back to me I pretended not to notice what had just taken place. Instead I just gave him my best smile and asked him if he wanted a beer. After I handed it to him I went into the back room to check myself out. I had my long, wavy blonde hair pulled up in a ponytail. It was hard to keep my hair like this because it was so thick. There were always long strands of gold, wavy hair sticking out everywhere.

I pulled the scrunchy out of my hair and ran my fingers through it, as my hair hung loose down my back. I sighed and looked at myself in the mirror, wishing that Jeromy hadn’t come in tonight of all nights, when I looked so disheveled. Looking in the mirror I notice how little makeup I had on. I don't normally wear a lot of makeup. I didn’t need to really. I had long lustrous eyelashes that framed my big blue eyes. I had thick eyebrows that growing up I hated but as I got older learned to appreciate more. It gave me a unique look and helped my eyes to stand out even more. But tonight I suddenly wished I had a more made-up look.

I walked out of the back room to return to my post at the bar while Jeromy was just coming out of the bathroom and we ran smack into each other. I almost fell but he caught me in his arms that were rippled with layers of well-toned muscles fashioned from what must be constant visits to the gym. He had a natural looking suntan about his skin and standing this close to him it was almost as if his skin sparkled. I blinked my eyes. Surely they were playing tricks on me. The faint scent of his cologne tickled my nose.

Jeromy maintained his hold on me for a moment longer than necessary. His luscious mouth curved on one side and then let out a faint smile. His breath smelled of sweet peppermint.

Other books

GROOM UNDER FIRE by LISA CHILDS,
Mad About the Boy by Suzan Battah
The Deception by Chris Taylor
Emma's Rug by Allen Say
An Italian Affair by Jodi Luann
Clockers by Richard Price
Burning for You by Dunaway, Michele