Inside of You (Jessa & Paxton #2) (28 page)

“I will live and die devoted to you. And your happiness. And our life
together,” I tell her, knowing that I never really understood what that statement meant until Jessa became mine. I’ve thrown those four words out more times than I can count. It was our family motto – we would live and die devoted to each other and this city that was part of us. I understood it, what it meant to Gabriel and Emilio. But it was more about pride. More about staying true to an attitude and a location and a way of life and a name. But with Jessa it’s so much more literal. I will live each day devoted to her happiness. Everything I do will be for her – to make sure she is happy and she has everything she needs in this life. And I will do this until the day I die. I will live and die completely devoted to something for the first time in my life. To her. To us.

“That’s okay Pax, ‘
cause I’m gonna do the same thing for you.”

The End

Thank you so much for reading
Inside of You
(I’m going to assume you read
Part of Me
also, so double thank you!). If you are curious about Jessa and Paxton’s past in River Bluff, I have included the first three chapters of Danny and Emily’s first book,
Love Is Relative
.

N
o matter what my game plan is when I begin to write a book, my stories always seem to become two books. The first one is generally centered on the characters’ physical desire for one another, which is natural – in most relationship, especially when you are in your early twenties, that’s how relationships start – you want the other person. You want to be touched and kissed by them. I just always hope and pray that my readers will stay with me through the second book because it’s always where the relationship becomes more emotional and meaningful. So thank you for sticking with me through the second book. I truly hope it was worth it for you. I know it was for me. I honestly fell in love with these two and it was really depressing for me when I typed the words
The End
on this book.

If you’ve read the
acknowledgements or dedications in any of my previous books you will know that the thing I am most grateful for is each and every one of my readers. As an independent author I don’t have a team of editors, proofreaders, publishers, publicists, book designers or cheerleaders surrounding me. But I have discovered that there is this world of book lovers out there who are willing to rally around independent authors and I think that is especially true in the New Adult romance genre. Strangers will email you and politely point out your typos (yes, I really had someone do this for me when I published my first book. She took the time to type all of my typos and email them to me), bloggers will feature your book and tweet about it and write beautiful reviews without you asking them to, strangers will connect with you and tell you how your story affected them, people on goodreads will converse with each other about your book and encourage their friends to read it, and people will take time out of there day to go on Amazon and write a review (yes, this is still the best support you can give an author!).

Somehow I got lucky enough to find all of these amazing
qualities all rolled into one in the form of my beta readers. When I published my first novel in October, I couldn’t have told you what the terms “beta reader” or “ARC” meant, but now these terms are very meaningful to me. Thank you to Joyce, Krista, Krystal, Heather, Cassie, Jillian, Diana, Elaine, Linda and Natalie. I appreciate your opinions, your editing skills and your encouragement more than I could ever tell you.

I’m
always grateful to my children and my husband because they are my greatest support. More than ever, with
Part of Me
and
Inside of You
, their lives have been affected by my wiring. Note to self: make sure whatever book you’re working on is finished and published before school is out! Every day I hear the words, “Mom, why are you always on your computer?” and, “Leave mommy alone, she has to concentrate on her book.” Needless to say, the house is not as clean as I would like it to be and meals are not as well thought out as I would prefer, but things would be completely out of hand if it wasn’t for the fact that my husband is willing to pick up the slack because he’s just an awesome person. But, yeah, sometimes we just ship the kids off to grandma and grandpa’s for the night (thanks mom and dad!). And can I just say that it’s immensely rewarding to read the amazing stories my nine year old daughter writes because she wants to be a writer, like her mom, when she grows up. She seems to be heading in the sci-fi direction, which is totally cool with me. I mean, I love that she wants to write like her mom, but I don’t really want to
write like her mom
.

Usually by the time I publish a book I’m already pretty deep into my next
story but at the moment that’s not the case. I could blame summer, or the fact that I still feel attached to Paxton or Jessa or the other fact that there are three books that have been sitting on my computer since well before I ever published
Love Is Relative
that deserve to see the light of day and I really think I should be working on them but the idea of editing anything right now makes me want to throw up. The only thing I know is that you should expect to see a lot more from me. You can follow my progress through my blog
www.mynewadultromance.blogspot.com
, twitter @
haven_francis or through my goodreads author page. I LOVE hearing from my readers- you can email me at
[email protected]
.

a novel

Haven Francis

Prologue
-
The First Kiss

I hold onto Emily as if my life depends on it. I can’t seem to shake this feeling of urgency that’s been taking over my mind and body the past couple of days. She doesn’t seem to mind the way I cling to her. The way I won’t let her out of my sight. It makes me wonder if it’s okay to feel the way I do about her. It makes me wonder if she feels the same way. These things, these questions that have been on my mind the past few months, are suddenly all I care about.

Can Emily be more than my friend? Does she love me the same way that I love her?

I look down at her face that is so familiar yet looks so different to me now. She is the same girl that has been my neighbor, my best friend, for my entire life and yet I never seemed to realize how beautiful this face is. I brush my fingers across the smooth skin on her cheek and her eyes flutter open. She gives me a lazy smile as if she had forgotten she was lying in my arms. “I think I fell asleep for a minute,” she whispers.

“Sleep if you need too; there’s nothing we have to do,” I tell her as my hand moves down her neck and into her hair.

“I was dreaming of you.” Her eyelids are heavy, her hand moves to my bare chest.

“What was I doing?”

“We were here, at the river.” She pauses as if that’s all she has to say.

“Let me guess, you finally out-backstroked me to the Willow tree?” 

“No,” she says, looking into my eyes, making me nervous. “You kissed me.”

“Yeah?” I ask, surprised… hopeful.

“Yeah. It was nice.”

My hand moves back up her neck, my thumb brushes over her full lips that I have dreamt about kissing every damn night since April. I stare at her mouth, her parted lips, before lowering myself to her. I let my lips feel hers… rest on them. Her breath seeps into my mouth and I think about how incredible that feels, before I take her lips in mine.

I kiss her slowly, taking in every unbelievable sensation that I feel. She kisses back with her warm, soft, fat lips. I savor the feel of her lips completely before letting my tongue taste them. As soon as that happens I can’t move slowly anymore. She tastes good and she likes my tongue on her lips, in her mouth; her fingers pull at my skin, her tongue enters my mouth and I feel like I’m about to fall apart. It all feels so much better than my half-assed imagination lead me to believe it would.

I want to kiss her, I want to keep kissing her forever, but I have to tell her something. I pull out of her mouth and she grasps me tighter. I’m breathing too heavily and having trouble forming my words as I look at her desperate eyes. “I love you, Emily.” I need her to know this more than I need to touch her right now. I need her to know that I’m in love with her.

Her expression shifts into confusion… possibly amusement, I’m not sure. “I know that, Danny. I love you too.” She leans into me, ready to end this conversation, but I need to make sure she understands.

“Not like a friend, Em. Not like I always have. I love you as in I need you, I want you. I need you to be mine.”

“Like your girlfriend?” She lets out a laugh.

“Yes. Like that.”

“Okay,” she tells me.

“Does that freak you out? I mean, do you think we’ll be okay, if we’re not just friends?”

“Who would we love, if not each other? Isn’t this where we were always headed? Can you stop talking now and kiss me?”

I smile at her, this perfect girl that I’ve always loved. She’s right; it’s always been us.  Who would we be if not each other’s? I do what she says and kiss her again. Emily. My girlfriend. The girl that I love. The girl that loves me back. 

Chapter 1 - Emily

“Are you coming to class?” Willow asks as she peeks into my dormitory room.

“Not today,” I tell her, trying to sound cordial.

“You realize you’re going to end up on kitchen duty for a month if you keep this up,” she informs me.

“Does it really matter what menial task I’m performing?” I sound depressed, which I am. I am completely and utterly depressed.

“Kitchen duty is the worst of them.”

And this is true. Cleaning dirty dishes in a humid, stinky kitchen when the weather in this God forsaken place is never anything but a sunny ninety-degrees is the most vomit-inducing job around, but truly they all suck. And anyway, I’m not planning on being around for dinner. When I don’t respond Willow gives up. “Okay, well I’m going to class.” When I remain silent she walks away.

Here, at the beautiful Arcadia compound, Willow is the closest thing I have to a friend, which isn’t saying much. She likes me about as much as anyone can. I’ve been here for almost three years and I’m still as angry and bitter as I was the first day Mom brought me through the rusty gates. People here must think I’m a complete asshole. Which I’m not. At least, I didn’t used to be. Not when I was me, at home with Grandma and Grandpa… and with Danny.

I try not to bitch or complain but considering the circumstances that brought me to this place, I can’t find a reason to be happy. Even though I’ve had plenty of time to accept my cruel fate, the truth is that I remember everything about Danny as if I still spent every day with him. I’m having trouble getting over it, to say the least.

This place doesn’t help any. Even if I had showed up here at my best, I would have still turned out the way I am today.

I live in a
commune
. I have a hard time even thinking the word. It sounds the same as
prison,
which it pretty much is. Except the propaganda that Luna, our “brother”, fills us with is supposed to trick us into believing we are in some kind of utopia. I never understood it and I still don’t but my mom, Charlie, thinks it’s some form of freedom. She goes by the name Celeste now. It’s one of the first things you do when you get here; sit in a sweat lodge until the spirits give you your name. I refused to do it but everyone still refers to me as Star; the glorious name my mother bestowed upon me after her own near-death sweat lodge experience.

I don’t fit in here. You would have to be crazy in order to do that and at the moment I feel about one slippery step away from crazy. So I’m getting out of here before I start believing that Star is an acceptable name.

I've stuck around for almost three years because I worry about my mother. I have some stupid need to be here for her, but clearly she doesn’t feel the same way.  She ran off with the newest member of the commune ten days ago and hasn't returned. And here I am going to class (meditation, general worshiping of Luna and harvesting the archers of vegetables that we live off of), being forced to eat nothing but said vegetables (while my mother is surely at McDonalds this very moment), working my ass off (scrubbing floors, picking weeds, teaching little kids about the absurd ways of this absurd life) and living in a ten-foot by ten-foot room with a communal bathroom (while my mother, although she is not here, lives in one of the larger houses with other single ladies who are at Luna’s disposal).

This is not the first time she’s abandoned me here, coming home weeks later without the new love of her life and without any explanation or apology. I have no idea how my homespun, down-to-earth, loving grandparents raised such a flake, but if I stay here there’s a good chance I’ll end up just as bad as she is. And clearly she
 doesn't need me or even want me. I don’t know why it’s taken me so long to figure this out.

I guess
 I've known all along but I was afraid of my other option for a life which would mean going back home. Going home to the grandparents who love me and raised me. Going home to the farm where I can be free to do what I want.  Going home to the fresh air that doesn't reek of patchouli. Going home to the river and my room and my grandma’s meatloaf and my grandpa’s smiling face.

But also going home to the absolute disaster that my mother left behind. The disaster that is literally me.

I watch the clock on the wall until it says two-fifteen. By now almost everyone will be in
 
class 
and it’s my best chance to escape. And that’s not an exaggeration, I will literally have to escape this hell-hole. I have a plan though and, realistically, it shouldn’t be a huge effort because every adult here seems to be high on some substance. I have the keys to one of the many cars and vans that the commune has, for what reason? I don’t know… since no one ever seems to leave this place, except for my mother. I snatched the key during lunch, searching for the most inconspicuous tag I could find. After lunch I took a stroll through the lot and found the car. Now all I have to do is get to it, and then through the gate, which will be my only obstacle. The gate is generally left unattended but also locked. I found the code when I was cleaning the office but I haven’t had a chance to try it out. If it doesn't work I’m just gonna scale the fence and run for my life.