[Currently being rewritten and updated chapter by chapter]
Book One in the "Hard Love" series.
It's hard being knocked down. And it's even harder getting back up.
Thalia Carter grew up on the south side of Chicago with a dead-beat dad and never real...
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I'm starting to think some things we're better off not knowing.
I wonder what the hell was going through Eve's head when she ate that goddamn fruit. Or Pandora when she opened that fucking box and unleashed every bad feeling known to mankind. Didn't anyone ever tell them ignorance is bliss?
Yes, I know biblical stories aren't the reason for this pressure in my chest, but it's easier to pretend they are. If I didn't know pain, jealousy, or longing, I wouldn't feel on the verge of cardiac arrest.
Not to mention the anger. It's red hot, like flames licking their way up my skin, consuming every inch of me until there's nothing left. My vision is rose tinted, but roses aren't what I'm seeing. I'm replaying the events of last night like a fucking screenplay as I hammer into a hundred pound bag of sand.
Thwack! Thwack!
The way she looked at me like I was all she'd ever need. I guess that was a fucking lie.
Thwack! Thwack!
How she felt coming undone around my cock. A shiver rolls through my body. I stretch my neck out, willing it away and shifting my stance.
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
Her words sting, like a paper cut multiplied by a million, tearing through my skin repeatedly. I never said I wanted that. There is no saving me.
"Fuck," I hiss when I miss the bag altogether, throwing my shoulder into it. Sharp pain spreads across my traps, amplifying when I shake it out.
Thalia is going to be the death of me. I can't think straight when I'm around her, but I can't fucking breathe when I'm not. She can turn me away a thousand times, but if she just said the word, I'd be at her door in an instant.
That's how bad I'm down for her.
"Punching air now? That's a new low, even for you."
I bristle, turning to scowl at Oliver. He's taking up the entirety of the doorway to our at-home gym with his frame, hands in pockets and an infuriating smirk on his face.
"Who let you in?" As far as I know, Zoe is out on a date with some guy that's not Nate–something I intend to let her share with him, and my parents are at work and working the next few days, so they won't be home at all.
"I have a key, dumbass." Right. I'm the one that gave it to him, just in case I wasn't around and he needed a reprieve from his dad.
"Okay, then what are you doing here?" I snap, wiping the sweat off my brow line with the back of my hand. He could be here to get a couple more hours of solace before going home, but I don't think his intentions are that innocent. They usually aren't.
"Just thought I'd come and pay my respects since you clearly have to be on your deathbed to go off the grid like this. You were a no-show at school today," he points out, like I don't have a fucking clue where my own body was, "And funnily enough, none of my texts seem to be going through. I figured you couldn't have actually received them, otherwise why wouldn't you respond?" Oliver finishes, voice dripping with sardonic attitude.
