We hung out all summer and, just before school started, I found the courage to ask her to be my girlfriend. I thought I was in love. Now, almost five years later, I know that wasn’t love—what I feel now, as I look into her beautiful brown eyes, alight with the happiness that always glows like this when she’s in my arms—yeah,
this
is love.
“Hey, babe,” I say, returning her greeting before pressing a kiss to her lips.
“Enough already,” chides Gray. “Put her down so that the rest of us can say hello.” I know he’s getting me back for a minute ago. I look at him over my shoulder before taunting him by kissing Addie one more time.
He can’t do
that
with a woman he’s not brave enough to pursue.
The guy has it bad. He refuses to do anything about it, even though I know Avery’s totally into him, too. Addie and I have been trying to convince them that the other is clearly interested, but neither of them will bite—this has been going on for months now. It’s ridiculous.
When we first met, Grayson surprised me. I didn’t really know what to expect from the stranger that would be my roommate freshman year. My first impression was that he was a little intimidating—what with his height and his bulk—but then I soon found out that he wasn’t anything to be afraid of. He was reserved, definitely stubborn, and lost. Lost, but willing and eager to seek and find what it was he was missing.
It has always been easy, being his friend, and it wasn’t long before I considered him to be the brother I never had. I trust him more than I trust anyone, except for Addie, of course. While he’ll always tell our story like he needed me, I think it’s the other way around. He challenges me, spiritually, mentally, and physically. He reminds me to laugh and relax and have fun because
this is college, after all.
And he encourages me not to take things for granted. These are all things I didn’t think I needed until I met him—until college became a reality and the pressure of my dream seemed to start weighing a little bit more than it did before.
He really needs to start taking his own advice. He needs to stop worrying so much and go for it with Avery. Every day they fight it is a day wasted.
“So, while you two fight over the twins, I’m going to start making pancakes,” says Sarah. “And since I’m starving, and hotcakes are best—well—
hot,
don’t be surprised if all the blueberry are gone by the time you decide to play nice and join me for breakfast.”
“Wait, we get options?” asks Gray, drawn to the kitchen like a moth to a flame.
“Like I would host a pancake breakfast any other way!” she scoffs.
“Sarah, you’re amazing. Follow me to medical school. I’ll pay you in flour to bake for me any time you want,” I beg.
“Hmm, tempting,” she teases with a laugh. “I’ll only come if you end up moving someplace amazing.”
“Noted. I’ll keep you posted.”
“La-la-la, I can’t hear you!” mutters Avery.
Gray and I exchange a smirk, picking up on Avery’s insistence that we
not
talk about what will happen in a year and a half when I get accepted into medical school—a
when,
not an
if
as far as our group is concerned. She doesn’t like being confronted with the likely possibility that I will be moving away, which means Addie will be moving away, which would separate the twins for the first time in their lives. Not that Avery hasn’t also entertained the idea that her own professional career could possibly have the same effect, but we all know how hard it will be for them. Avery isn’t opposed to the idea, just opposed to
talking
about the idea until she absolutely can’t avoid it anymore. In her mind, we have a few months, yet.
We switch topics, filling each other in on the rest of our weekend plans. The five of us usually go to church together on Sundays. Sometimes we get together with a bunch of the other college students in attendance and we grab lunch after; sometimes we meet up with Jack and Claire and do lunch at our apartment or the girls’ place; sometimes we go our separate ways for lunch and meet up to chill a bit later—whatever we do, we always make time for each other after church.
It all started because Sarah—who insists that Sunday isn’t called
the sabbath day
for nothing—has all but demanded that we cut out some time to relax and just enjoy each other—without any homework—for at least that one day each week. No one likes to argue with Sarah, plus we all agree that making time to just hang out with the whole group is good for everyone. It’s been our tradition going on three years now. With finals coming up, Avery suggests a study lunch. Gray is quick to agree.
Of course.
Sarah scowls at both of them, reminding them about the
no homework allowed
rule.
“How about we do a movie night?” says Addie. “I know finals are breathing down everyone’s neck these days, so I could probably stand to do some homework, too—if we meet around dinner time we could all chip in for pizza and then just hang out and watch movies.”
“Works for me,” says Sarah, casting her vote. Everyone is quick to agree and then pretty soon we’re all sitting down with plates stacked with pancakes. I enjoy it while it lasts, knowing good and well that as soon as we’re done, it’ll be back to studying.
Addison
MY MAN IS DREAMY,
I admit with a lazy smile as I gaze at him from across the table. He’s tall and thin—made up of lean muscle and just enough body fat to make him comfortable to hold onto without feeling like I’m hugging a cold brick wall. He keeps his chestnut brown hair cropped short, because the longer it gets the curlier it gets and he’s never been able to manage his locks very well. As far as I’m concerned, I’d love him any way I could get him.
Avery always says he walks a fine line between hipster and geek-chic. Sarah tells me all the time that I have the sexiest nerd on campus. I agree on both counts. He has no idea how gorgeous he is, especially when he smiles. I watch as he slides the tips of his fingers into his front pant pockets—like he does sometimes—leaning back in his chair. He’s full. I can tell.
My lazy smile turns into a grin when he looks over at me. His dark blue eyes, framed by his
hipster
black rimmed glasses, meet mine. I relish the fact that I’ve been caught checking him out.
He winks at me and I blow him a kiss,
Good gracious, I love that man.
I knew that I wanted to marry Beckham when I was seventeen years old. I know that sounds crazy. There are billions of people in the world and I’ve probably rubbed shoulders with fewer than a fraction of a fraction of
a fraction
of them; not to mention, I’ve dated even fewer.
Correction.
I’ve dated only one.
Regardless of how it sounds, it doesn’t make it any less true. I remember the exact moment when I decided he was it for me. It wasn’t even special or romantic or anything, it was just an ordinary second—hardly distinguishable from the one that preceded it or the one that followed. We were out with friends. Bowling. And he laughed. I wasn’t in on the same conversation, so I don’t know what was funny, but, for just a second, I wondered what my world would be like without that laugh.
I knew immediately that I never wanted to find out.
That was four years ago. While we haven’t made it down the aisle yet, I know we will. So maybe it is crazy, or a little naive, to believe that we decided so young that life was, is, and will forever be better when we’re together—but we’ve gone against the grain of normal for this long, why not the rest of our lives? I’m ready to prove to the world that young love, stupid love,
crazy love
—it isn’t something to simply wax poetic about, it’s something to grab hold of, something to step into, something to
wear
. . . like a ring.
I’m still holding out for mine. I know a proposal is coming, I just have to find the patience to wait for it. It’s not as if I have a dress picked out, or anything. I don’t want to get too ahead of myself, but—
“Earth to Addie,” says Avery, snapping her fingers in front of my face.
“Hmm?” I murmur.
“We’re going downstairs to deliver pancakes to the love birds while the boys clean up. Claire just texted. Jack’s in the shower. Want to come?”
“Oh. Yeah, sure. Let’s go.” Any excuse to avoid dish duty is a good one, to me.
***
Also by R.C. Martin
Made for Love Series
The Promises We Keep
Reckless Surrender
The O’Conners: A Made for Love Novella
So Much More
The Holloways: A Made for Love Novella (Coming Soon!)
Acknowledgments
First and foremost, I’m thankful to the Lord—who has given me the heart, the dream, the vision, and the drive to do what I do. Without Him, there is no purpose behind my words. I’m so grateful for the stories I get to share and the messages I can convey through my characters.
Thank you to all of my friends and family who support me and put up with me as I chase this dream. Your encouragement means so very much; your love means even more; and I’m beyond blessed to have each and every one of you in my corner and in my heart.
Megan and Ella—thank you for embracing this story, these characters, and for expressing your excitement as I brought them to life. I couldn’t stand it if I had to keep these two to myself during the publishing process, and I’m grateful that I have you—not just to share them with, but also to have your support in getting their story as clean as it’s gonna get!
Hayley, your love for Sage and Millie means more than I can say. You are definitely their biggest cheerleader and I appreciate that. Thank you for helping when I needed it (wink-wink, nudge-nudge) and for allowing me to share them with you in their most raw state!
Cassy—you kick ass. Thank you for this AMAZING cover and the beautiful interior. You’re a beast, woman, and I love it!
To all the bloggers and readers who took the time to read this, you’re why I keep writing. I want nothing more than to be able to share my words with you, and I’m so excited that you decided to give this story a chance. So, thank you—from the bottom of my heart.
About the Author
R.C. Martin finds it a bit awkward referring to herself in the third person, so she’s only going to do it for this one sentence. (We all know who’s writing this bio anyway!)
I’m a born and bred Coloradan. I will always claim that square state as my home! While I now reside in Virginia, the land of the Rocky Mountains is where I’ve left a piece of my heart and where my characters come to life. I’m a woman in love with love and filled to the brim with compassion for women like me, on a journey to find themselves in today’s society. I aspire to inspire my readers to do more than settle. I hope that my writing will remind everyone that she (or he!) is valuable and worthy of the best kind of love—the kind that is gentle, patient, faithful, passionate, all consuming, never ending, and leaves you breathless.
When I’m not writing I’m reading; when I’m not reading I’m writing . . . you know how it goes! I also enjoy cooking, baking, crocheting, and jigsaw puzzles. Basically, I’m an old soul with a young heart, nonchalantly waiting for my prince to come.
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