Never Just Friends (Spotlight New Adult Book 2) (14 page)

Jake stepped closer, eyes fixed on the TV, the show paused at that moment. “I haven’t actually watched it. It’s the first time I’m seeing it. Been watching from here since you started it.”

“How did you even...?”

“Zane let me in when you were in the bathroom. I’ve been upstairs with them while you watched.”

“Are they still up?” It might seem like she was the worst babysitter aunt in history, but Zane and Brian were in grade school and did know how to handle themselves around their own house. For a few years now “babysitting” really only meant being the designated adult.

“They’re sleeping. Not too late past the bedtime,” he said. “Don’t worry about it.”

Her brain was starting to overload, new thoughts in danger of spilling out. “Wait. Please. Help me understand. This was your accident. What happened?”

“They really did have a rope around my neck. I was on a harness, so I wasn’t in danger of actually breaking my neck, but they said the rope was too tight. They needed me to stay quiet and still for that swing, and we did it for a while, and I...I passed out.”

“You almost died.”

“I didn’t. This kind of thing happens sometimes. Someone got fired, and they kept it quiet for a lot of reasons.”

He almost died. Didn’t he? Wouldn’t prolonged lack of oxygen have led to that? And he called out for her when he did. In the way only she would know. He probably didn’t even think about it.

“I’ve been so stupid,” she said. “About you, and everything.”

“It’s late,” Jake said, smiling. “I’m here for a few more days. You’ve been watching too much TV. We can talk tomorrow.”

“Did you put them up to this?”

“No,” he said. “Cordelia knew I was in town and told me to come over. I didn’t know you’d be here. I thought you were kidding when you said you never watched the show. You never watched it, really?”

“I’m sorry,” Lindsay said, but not about the show. And she wasn’t just sorry, she was repentant. She was an idiot. She was ready, so ready. “I’m sorry I doubted you. I know how much you love me. I didn’t want to believe that it was possible.”

He walked toward the couch, closer, and laid a hand under her chin as she looked up at him. “Don’t you want time to think about it?”

“No,” she said. “I don’t need it. Stay here with me, don’t leave. I have about four minutes of this TV show left to watch. Charles gets saved right?”

***

“Is John actually a werewolf?”

“What makes you say that?”

“Those days when he insists on not going out. Do the viewers think he’s a werewolf?”

Jake laughed, his chest rumbling pleasantly against hers. “I’ll remember that.”

“Do you know what you both really are?”

“I’m not going to tell you.”

“Why
not
?”

“Because you care now. I don’t want to ruin it for you.”

“So next season is French revolution?”

“Yeah. Mostly.”

“But you don’t do accents. Will you do an accent?”

“I didn’t do an accent two seasons. It doesn’t mean I
can’t.
”

“Will you be speaking French?”

“I won’t tell you.”

“God. What’s the point of sleeping with you then?” Lindsay shifted her hip, turning more toward him, making sure he still had room on his half of the couch. He’d joined her there as she finished season two, and then answered random questions she threw at him, between makeout sessions so intense that she already came twice.

“I love you,” she said, and it made her feel good to say it that way. Like she was happy about it. Like it wasn’t a sad statement of fact. She kept saying it actually, liking how it sounded each time. It was beginning to sink in that she had almost lost him, and no matter how much he downplayed what happened to him, she still could have lost him any number of stupid ways, lost him without ever knowing how he felt.

That was worse than any fear she may have had when she first met him.

“I kind of don’t want to let you out of my sight now,” she admitted.

“You’ll get over it,” he said. “But you’re getting a key to my place in Vancouver and you’re welcome any time.”

“I’m going to figure out my work sked so I can join you in France for a bit.”

“I’ll stay with you in New York when I get back.”

“But my place is tiny. You have a house. It’s huge. Took me hours to clean it.”

“I noticed. Did you find anything incriminating?”

“No.”

“Lindsay, I don’t care how large or small the place is.”

“All right.” Her fingers toyed with the buttons on his shirt. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being brave enough to do this. I wouldn’t have been.”

“It’s not being brave. One of us just had to ask the obvious question.”

“Why are you even here by the way? Did Cordelia…?”

“Paperwork,” Jake said. “At Addison Hill. Arranging to get a transfer approved and my previous undergrad years credited.”

“You’re going back to school?”

“Part of the plan that I didn’t tell you,” he said. “I’m finishing my degree. Looking at schools in New York City. I could work it out, even with publicity and season four going on. Aren’t you looking for a place to get your master’s too? You should do it now, you know, before slots close for next semester.”

It was then that it became that much clearer to Lindsay what Jake had in mind. It was an entirely new life, composed of what he wanted, and planned carefully so she’d be part of it, for as long as she wanted to.

Maybe they could do this.

“I’m so proud of you,” she told him. “Not just the show...you did so well at the conference. You really are amazing.”

“What can I say.” Jake’s mouth rested under her chin this time, planting soft kisses there. “I didn’t want to wait for the apocalypse.”

“Screw the apocalypse.”

“I’m not kidding. That was it, really, what I was thinking about, when I woke up in the hospital. You know what a real apocalypse would be like? You and I wouldn’t be together in it. If we lived apart. If the world fell apart, and you and I were on separate coasts, and countries, that’s it. Good luck finding each other. We’d never get to do for each other what we said we would. That’s just how it is. I don’t want to wait for any of that.”

Lindsay nodded. “We do what we want for each other and now.”

“That’s it,” he said. “You get it now.”

He angled up to kiss her mouth, and the kiss was beautiful. Delicious. Everything she wanted at the end of a crazy day. Everything she’d already
had
, several times within the hour alone, but couldn’t get enough of.

Everything Lindsay needed.

The End

Rage Eternal
is not a real show. But my husband Mike and I outlined and plotted five seasons of it anyway. We get carried away sometimes. To help me out, he also contributed knowledge from his years in environment, international development, and fantasy geekdom. I made up the rest.

Thank you, also, to Xena San Miguel, Dr. Suzette Castaneda-Wenceslao, Carissa Villacorta Songalia, Jan Sarte, Margarita Arguelles, Miya David, Georgene Sales, Christine Ocampo, Dek Samson, and Haydee Enoveso, for providing crucial bits and pieces and answering my questions, no matter how random they probably sounded.

Mina V. Esguerra

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The Harder We Fall

A Spotlight New Adult romance from Mina V. Esguerra

She knows it won't last...

Nicholas is unlike anyone Daria has ever dated, and yet he hasn't left her mind since she got her hands on the 23-year-old rugby player when he took a tumble during a game.

But they aren't even really dating; a fast fling is all they have time for. He's heading to Japan to play pro and is only in town to tie loose ends. She's graduating in three weeks, and is only covering his struggling rugby club to win an internship spot in a documentary that'll start filming in Europe.

Getting what they want means they don't get to stay together. But that doesn't mean they can't have fun—as long as they don't fall hard.

Mina V. Esguerra learned everything she needed to know about writing romances from Sweet Dreams novels and the Buffy the Vampire Slayer TV series. When not working as a communications consultant, she writes contemporary romance, young adult, and new adult novels. When not working and writing, she’s hanging out with her husband and daughter. Visit her site http://minavesguerra.com.

Chic Manila series

My Imaginary Ex | Fairy Tale Fail | No Strings Attached | Love Your Frenemies | That Kind of Guy | Welcome to Envy Park | Wedding Night Stand | Young and Scambitious | Properly Scandalous (Scambitious #2) | Shiny and Shameless (Scambitious #3) | Greedy and Gullible (Scambitious #4)

Interim Goddess of Love trilogy

Interim Goddess of Love | Queen of the Clueless | Icon of the Indecisive

Spotlight series

Playing Autumn | The Harder We Fall | Never Just Friends

Anthology contributions

Say That Things Change (New Adult Quick Reads 1) | Kids These Days: Stories from Luna East Arts Academy Volume 1 | Sola Musica: Love Notes from a Festival

Twitter, Instagram, Facebook: minavesguerra

Wattpad: MinaVE

A Spotlight New Adult romance from Mina V. Esguerra

I wasn’t sure if it was time to call security, the police, the hospital,
somebody.

Sure I’d led a relatively sheltered life, and going to college at Addison Hill would only seem like an extension of that comfort instead of a crash course in the real world. But I
had
seen a riot before. An actual brawl. Inebriated guys at each other’s throats and limbs, before my eyes, and it wasn’t pretty.

It kind of looked like what was happening on the field right now.

I stepped onto the soccer field expecting it to be just grass and dirt at this hour; I was told it usually was, on Monday afternoons anyway. I went this way so I could get establishing shots in case I needed them, before the light went. But the field wasn’t empty. I found that out as soon as I made it to the grass, and someone sprinted ahead, past me, not so near but near enough. He turned my way, and I smiled at him, his shock of dark hair, his straining biceps, his powerful legs. I also waved.

That wave part I didn’t mean to do, but it was like my arm was pulled up by unseen forces, the same ones that made my insides churn at the idea that I had his attention somehow. My brain took over and I pulled my hand back before anyone else could see it. The hesitation was enough time for one of the four or six or eight other guys behind him to grab his upper legs and knock him off his sure footing. The four or six or eight other guys made sure he was flat on the ground in no time later.

“Oh God,” I said.

A split second later and I heard the loud boom of guy laughter,a sign that they weren’t really
killing
each other. I shook my head and reached for my camera. They picked themselves up from the ground, tracking mud up to the round collars of their shirts, and started it all over again.

I shook my head. This was rugby, apparently.

***

The text message was short:
Daria, meeting at Salty’s office at 4 pm. Internship contest.

I stared at it longer than I needed to. All the words made sense to me, except for “contest,” but as I stood there thinking instead of talking, it all fell into place.

It was another way of messing with me. Life did that, constantly, since I chose to go to Addison Hill in California instead of somewhere east. (The plane ride from LA to San Francisco was enough distance, I thought.) Since I chose broadcast communication as my major. Since my dad’s own career took off and various shows he had produced became respectable cable and web hits, and suddenly being related to him had torched my credibility in anything media-related.

But he told me that this would happen. I told him that I would be ready to jump through hoops and over hurdles. I’d do it my way, with as little help from him as possible.

This contest, yet another hoop.