Authors: J.D. Rivera
Chasing Destiny
J.D. Rivera
Chasing Destiny
Copyright © 2015 by J.D. Rivera
Cover Image Copyright © sivilla 2016
Used under license from Shutterstock.com
Editor: Monica Black, Word Nerd Editing
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Chasing Destiny
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, business establishments, or locales is purely coincidental. The author recognizes the copyrighted or trademarked statuses of all established companies and brands mentioned in this work.
To Carlos,
Your unwavering support means the world to me. I couldn’t have finished this series without you pushing me, telling me I could do it. I love you more than I can ever say. And thank you for your smartass ways, which helped make Carson’s character that much better.
Kristin
“Why do you still have that hanging on the wall?” Holly asked as she sat on my couch, sipping wine.
Following her glare, I focused on a creepy painting my ex-boyfriend, Adam, had made, and said, “Oh, that. I don’t know. I guess I just forgot to take it down.” The colors were red and black with a bloody, purple man taking up most of the space. Adam was an art major and I had been very supportive, hanging his pieces all over my apartment.
“It’s hideous. You should take it down.”
“I’ll think about it,” I said before taking a sip of wine.
“Think about it? No, you need to take it down. Won’t Carson want it gone before tomorrow?”
“Carson won’t give a shit,” I replied, confused as to why she thought he would. Carson was my friend taking Miranda’s spot as my roommate. Miranda and I had lived together for a little under two years, but then she met Brad. We had never been super close, but Brad was good for her, and I was happy they were moving in together. I actually met Carson through Miranda. He was her distant cousin or something and we got along well. So, when he said he needed a place to live, I figured it was a great option for both of us.
Holly cocked her head to the side, studying me. “What?” I asked, furrowing my brows.
“Why would he want another guy’s art hanging up in his apartment? A guy you used to date?”
“Why would he care? Carson and I are friends.” She raised her brows at me in disbelief. “Honestly, I really don’t have any feelings for him like that. He’s just fun to be around,” I said, and it was the complete truth. He was a great guy and would be a fun roommate, but that was all.
“How do you know he doesn’t have feelings for you other than friendship?” She gave me a
gotcha there
look before throwing back the rest of her wine.
“Have you met Carson? He doesn’t feel like that toward anyone.” Carson slept around. A lot.
Holly shrugged. “I still don’t think he’ll like Adam’s artwork hanging in his living room.” I had no idea why she was making this into such a big deal.
“Probably not,” I agreed. “I’ll take it down later,” I said to appease her, though a small part of me wanted to leave it up. Adam and I were over, but he had been a huge part of my life. And even though the painting was seriously weird, it had grown on me.
She got up and retrieved another bottle of wine from the kitchen before flopping back down on the couch. “Have you talked to Adam lately?”
I looked down, pursing my lips. “He texts me sometimes.” More like all the time.
After filling her glass with more wine and throwing it back, she placed it on the table. “And what do the texts say?”
“Nothing,” I sighed, but her face told me I wasn’t getting off that easily. “He wants to be friends.”
“That bastard. Please tell me you don’t reply.” I got up and went into the kitchen, hoping she’d drop it. “Kristin!”
“What?” I hollered, getting myself a brownie from the pan.
“You know what! That asshole strung you along and broke your heart.”
I shoved a huge piece of the brownie into my mouth and mumbled, “I would say broke my heart is stretching it.”
“Is it?”
I sat back on the couch and chewed. “I’ll admit it hurt,” I said after swallowing, but she already knew that. We’d had this conversation a million times. “I mean, we dated for a long time and everything was great, but as soon as we started college, it all changed. He wanted to do a lot of things separately, but wanted me to be available for sex and snuggling whenever he asked. You remember his texts.”
“Why do you want to be friends with him? When you broke it off, you said you were done.”
I picked up my wine glass from the table and gulped down a huge swallow. “I don’t know. I still care about him. Just because we aren’t together doesn’t mean I don’t still love him.”
Holly was silent for a moment, mulling over her next question. “Do you think he cheated?”
My head fell back on the cushion as I stared at the ceiling. “Honestly, I don’t. I think he wanted to. He wanted that single and free lifestyle, but I don’t think he ever had sex with anyone. Kissed? Probably.”
“That’s cheating! He’s such an asshole. And he’s a sucky artist.” She shook her head and gestured toward the painting on the opposite wall. “I mean, just look at that. If he plans to make a living with his art, he has another thing coming. Nobody would pay for that trash.”
A laugh bubbled up and burst from my lips. Holly could be weird at times, but she could also be hilarious. And honestly, his art did suck ass.
I wiped a tear from my eye. “That was hilarious.”
“True. It was true.” She quieted for a moment. “So, does Carson have someone to help him move in?”
Nodding, I said, “Yeah, his cousin Ryder is going to help him, but the apartment is already furnished. He just refuses to use the bed in there because Miranda had sex with Brad on it.”
She laughed. “He is so…I don’t even know.”
“Yeah.”
She muttered something under her breath, a frown marring her face.
“Hey,” I said, “what just happened? You suddenly look depressed or something.”
“It’s nothing.” She perked up and laughed to herself. She’s a little weird sometimes, which is why Miranda would never hang out with me when my friends were around. “I think we should go tear something of his up. His car, or…one of his worthless paintings!”
“What? No.” I shook my head. “Why would we do that?”
“It’ll be fun.”
“We aren’t sixteen anymore and we didn’t break up today, it’s been months.” I got up and walked to the windows where a few of my plants were located. I loved flowers and plants. They reminded me of summers with my grandma. I had even declared my major as botany, but changed it a month or so ago. Flowers were my stress reliever and I didn’t want anything to change that—like coursework. So now, I was undecided.
I inhaled the lavender and rotated it around so the other side could see the sun. “Enough about me, let’s talk about you.”
She blew out a breath and stretched her legs out on the cushions. “I don’t have anything going on. I’m boring.”
“Oh, whatever,” I said, walking into the kitchen to grab a pitcher of water. “What about that guy you went on a date with a couple weeks ago? What was his name—Al, Abe?”
“Allen.”
“Yeah, what about him?” I filled the pitcher and returned to my plants.
Holly made a huffing noise and I glanced in her direction. “He was a complete idiot.”
“What happened?” I checked the soil of my jasmine plant and began pouring water into the pot.
“He smelled like salami.”
Cracking a laugh, I tipped my head back and snorted. “Salami?”
“Yes. It was disgusting.” She scrunched her nose, as if she could still smell him.
“Shit,” I muttered, noticing I spilled a lot of water on the floor. I stumbled into the kitchen, still giggling, and placed the pitcher on the counter. Only Holly would go on a date with a guy who smelled like salami.
I grabbed a towel, wiped up the water, and plopped back down on the couch. Looking over at Holly, I busted out laughing again. “Stop it! It’s not funny,” she yelled, but started giggling, too. “Okay, maybe a little. But now you see why I would rather talk about your life. No one in your life stinks, except you.”
“Except me?” I asked, pointing to myself.
“Yeah. You always smell like flowers. If I didn’t love you so much, I wouldn’t come over here because of the smell.”
“First off, the apartment smells, not me. Second, it doesn’t stink! It smells wonderful in here.”
She nodded. “At least it will drown out the nasty skank smell of all the girls Carson will be bringing home.”
“Gross,” I said, but it was the truth. The smell of cheap perfume and sex were most likely in my future. My phone dinged with a text and I grabbed it from the table.
Carson: Hey, flower girl. Hope you are ready for tomorrow. I’ll be the hot guy moving my shit into your apartment.
I rolled my eyes but laughed.
“Who is that? It better not be Adam.”
“It’s Carson,” I said as I typed out a text to him.
Me: Hot guy? More like a dumbass.
Carson: Right to the heart. You’ll change your mind when you see me naked and wet, stepping out of the shower.
Me: You have your own bathroom. I can promise I won’t see that awful image.
Carson: I’m sorry you won’t get to. You would have loved it.
Me: Go find a skank and leave me alone.
I didn’t wait for his reply before I placed my phone back on the coffee table. “Let’s do something. I’m sick of just sitting here.”
“I just got a text about a party.”
“Let’s go!”
***
Music pumped out of the speakers located somewhere in the living room of the small house. The party was in full swing, packed wall to wall. Since walking in an hour ago, my butt had been planted on the couch next to Holly and a couple guys we just met.
“I can’t believe you’ve never been to a haunted house,” Holly remarked.
I lifted a shoulder and took another swig of my beer. “I know, right? We should totally find a haunted house and go tonight.” I may have drunk much more in that hour than I thought; my happy drunk persona was coming out.
“Our friend Todd isn’t drinking tonight. He can drive us to one.”
“I know the perfect place!” Holly shouted. “It’s only like an hour away.”
“How is it haunted?” I asked as I wiped some beer from my mouth and made eye contact with the guy offering his friend as DD. Originally, I thought he was okay looking, but now that I was really looking at him, he was actually kind of cute. Blond hair, blue eyes—he reminded me of Adam.
I wonder if he’s an asshole, too?
“Someone was murdered there.” She tilted her head and looked at the ceiling, as if thinking. “Yeah, I’m pretty positive.” Holly was completely drunk, but something told me just to go with this idea.
“Okay,” I agreed, a huge smile spreading across my face. This could be fun.
Blond guy turned to his man-bun friend. “Let’s go find Todd.” He glanced at Holly and me. “We’ll be right back.”
“I really like that guy’s man-bun,” Holly practically shouted as they got up.
“Thanks,” Man-bun said, smiling. “I’m Justin, by the way.”
“I’m Holly, and this is Kristin.” A smile stretched across Holly’s face and her glazed eyes filled with lust.
The guys walked away and I arched a brow at Holly. “You like that guy?”