The lives of Olivia and Rayden Reed are about to take a captivating turn when a figure from their past reemerges, igniting a whirlwind of emotions and buried secrets. Malia, a woman they once loved and lost, returns after eight long years with a dar...
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It was never in my plans to drop out of high school, despite having my entire life ahead of me. One argument ended up determining the course of my entire being. I loved the people around me, but I ran away from them because I was afraid. Afraid that my feelings for them were unrequited.
I had no intention of becoming a teen mother at the age of seventeen. I was very careful not to let this happen. Until I meant the two people who made my palms sweat and my heart race. I gave myself to them and was shattered into a million pieces as a result. I was left out and felt alienated, and I wished every day that it hadn't happened. But it did. It happened, and I was hurt, so I left my hometown. After years of struggling on my own I built a new home. I found my place in the world and someone who would love me and never leave me.
Learning I was pregnant and about to become a single mother was a difficult pill to swallow, it was also the best gift I had ever received. My daughter is my life, and for the past eight years, she has been my home and the love I have always desired and needed.
"Yes, honey, right there. That's right. Pucker those lips out for me. Perfect. Perfect. Lift your chin. Love it. Alright, I think we got it." The flashes from the night photoshoot cease as a group of models run offset through the sand. "Malia, sweetie, let's get that model in front of the camera. Will you?"
I roll my eyes at Toni, the photographer, and apply the last bit of blush to the model's face. "Toni can be an ass. Don't worry about him."
I smile at the gorgeous woman seated in front of me. Her crystal blue eyes piercing through my own deep brown ones. "Oh, honey. If he doesn't cut my checks, there's no point in me worrying about him."
She laughs, and her cheeks turn red as she lowers her head. "I guess you're right."
I offer a smile as I gently place a napkin between her lips to blot the lipstick. It's refreshing that she isn't just another snobby model or actress in my chair. Dealing with those types has become tiresome lately.
"Alright, babes, you're all set," I remark, turning her around. Her smile broadens reaching both corners of her mouth as she catches her reflection in the mirror. I stand there admiring her for a minute. She's very beautiful; just about every model at this photoshoot is gorgeous. I almost want to be like them.
"Thank you," she says, breaking me out of my thoughts. She gets up and walks over to the set on the beach. I take a seat in my own chair and watch from the makeup and hair tent as a bunch of models in bikinis toss a beach ball posing for the camera. They all have perfect beach bodies: flat stomach, long legs, small waist. I haven't looked that good since my teen days.
I would kill to have the body I had in high school again. Don't get me wrong. I love the figure I have now. I went from a 'skinny mini' that couldn't gain weight to a curvy hot mama. I take pride in my hourglass shape and thick tiger-striped dark skinned thighs. Yet, what truly makes me embrace my curves is the profound reason behind their existence.
