Defying All Odds
Writing this book is a dream come true for me, but I absolutely could not have done it without the help of some amazingly wonderful women. Each and every one of you stepped up and offered me your help, advice, expertise, and guidance without batting an eye and I am truly grateful. Alexis Durbin, Nevaeh Lee, Mia Kayla, B.A. Wolfe, Michelle Lynn, Livia Jamerlan, A.L. Zaun, Elisabeth Grace, K. Langston, and Mia Sheridan…thank you—from the bottom of my heart—thank you.
“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 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. At the ripe age of twelve months, Tyson and I became friends. We not only learned how to walk together, we learned how to do everything together. He was my preschool buddy, my co-conspirator in detention, and he survived my attempts at learning how to drive.
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 she's not. Some things should just stay the way they are...I think.
"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!" I raise my glass, tap it against hers, and down the shot. I stare at my empty shot glass. 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, and 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 because I can feel it in my bones...something is off.
"Okaaaay, shoot." I train my eyes on the suitcase in front of me as I begin to pull out clothes. He reaches for me, but I turn away and stuff some T-shirts in my drawer.
"A lot changes when you go away to college for four years," he says, running his hand down the back of his neck.
"Yes, it can." Opening the closet door, I stare into the dark empty space. "Moving back home is going to take some getting used to. I'm definitely finding a place of my own 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, ummm, 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 while my mind yells at me to say or do something to make him stay.
"Earth to Harley," Quinn says, jolting me out of my trip across the minefield I walked through today.
I glance over at the pool table again. Tyson's arm hangs loosely around Brit's neck. Her arms are wrapped tightly around his bod
y. Me. That should be me.
I watch as he wraps her perfectly straight, blond hair around his hand and tugs her beautifully sculpted face 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 gifted 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.
Okay, 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. The worst part is that he wants her, too.
I hate her.
They began dating our sophomore year in college, and my relationship with Brit has been 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 Ty that I've been harboring secret feelings for him. She even went so far as to accuse me of using our friendship as an excuse to spend extra time with him.
And although Tyson never believed her, 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 just didn't seem 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 began to happen though when he told me he was moving. It took me all afternoon to recover from the bomb he dropped and I'm not sure what it was, but it's like a puzzle piece was put into place. Everything became crystal clear. He can’t leave without knowing the truth.
“One more shot,” I say, raising my glass to Quinn.
Her lips curl into 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 for 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 until now, I've always been able to predict how Tyson will react to things. This…well, I honestly have no idea how he is going to respond to this.