Second Chance Romance

Copyright © 2012 by Sophie Monroe

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form

or by any means electronic or mechanical, including

photocopying, recording or any information storage and revival systems

Without prior written permission from the author

except where permitted by law
.

The characters, places, and events portrayed in this book are fictitious.

Any similarity to real persons living or dead is coincidental and

not intended by the author.

Contact:

[email protected]

The author acknowledges use of the following brands:
The Body Shop, Dolce & Gabbana, Valentino, Prada, Jacuzzi, Four Seasons, Park 75 restaurant, Tiffany & Co., iPhone, GQ, Duval, Target, Jeep, Duane Reid, Starbucks, Google, Kitchen-Aid, Corona, My Darkest Days, Infiniti, Bluetooth, Victoria’s Secret, Splenda, Jack Daniels, Magnum, Buckcherry,

Second Chance Romance

Sophie Monroe

Writing a book is an adventure. To begin with, it is a toy and an amusement; then it becomes a mistress, and then it becomes a master, and then a tyrant. The last phase is that just as you are about to be reconciled to your servitude, you kill the monster, and fling it out to the public.

HAPPY READING!

“The whole point of being alive is to evolve into the complete person you were intended to be.” ~Oprah Winfrey

Prologue

Not So Sweet Sixteen

Ten years earlier…

I woke to a warm, domineering body pressed up against me. It belonged to my best friend/boyfriend Noah. Noah and I met ten years ago. He was eight and I was six, we’ve been best friends ever since. We started dating a little over a year ago and I don’t know what I would do without him. He was my sanity in an insane world…my rock.

We’ve
been secretly sleeping like this every night for the past five years… ever since the night of my eleventh birthday. Now, when I knew my mom was down for the count I would sneak over here to sleep. I’d always been able sneak back home before she woke up. To say my mom and I didn’t get along would be an understatement.

Throughout
the last couple of years I outgrew being shy and awkward. I grew into my body, curves and all. I stopped growing at a little over five foot seven. My blonde hair was down to middle of my back and had natural highlights from the Georgia sun. Genetics blessed me with my dad’s oval green eyes and porcelain skin. Thankfully, I didn’t look like my mother, except for the blonde hair.

Noah i
s
hot!
He’s a little over six feet tall and muscular, but not buff. He has the most beautiful chiseled features, a square jaw and strong nose. His piercing blue eyes compliment his short dark hair exceptionally nice. His lips are my favorite though; they’re just so kissable!

“Morning
, Jules.” He whispered in his raspy morning voice that I loved more than anything. I looked at his messy case of bedhead and his breathtaking smile and wished we could stay like this forever. I smiled back as he moved me onto his chest so we were face to face. I nuzzled into the crook of his neck, breathing in his cologne and snuggled closer. Thankfully, I didn’t have to worry about sneaking back to my house this morning since my mom had stayed out the night before. Mornings like this were my favorite.

I closed my eyes
until the alarm went off again. I reluctantly dragged myself from his bed and headed across the lawn back to my house to get ready for school. As soon as I opened my window a set of blood red claws dug into my arm yanking me inside.

“Where the fuck have you been
?!” My mom Abigail yelled. She was waiting for me but it wasn’t because she concerned for my safety. “You little whore, I asked you a question!”

“Since when do you care?” I spat
angrily. She slapped my face making my skin sting but I was used to this kind of treatment from her by now. I had been taking care of myself since I was eight years old when my dad took a job in England. That’s when my home life went down the tubes.

“You were with the Sinclair boy
, weren’t you? How many years have you been fucking him now?” I didn’t reply. I found it best to bite my tongue where she was concerned. My mother’s polished appearance was only a facade. She was a mean woman that resented me, as if I would have chosen to be born into this family. She grabbed a picture frame off my end table, the one that Noah had given me for my eleventh birthday. She tossed it to the ground shattering it. She huffed away in exasperation slamming the door behind her, leaving me to do what I did best, pick up the broken pieces. I quickly picked up the pieces that I could and placed them on my dresser. I’d try to glue some of it back together later.

I headed into my
bathroom and showered. I took extra care applying foundation to ensure the slap mark was covered. I dressed in a black leather pleated skirt that showed off my long legs, a ribbed gray tank top, knee high Doc Martens, and a cardigan. I hoped my outfit would distract Noah from noticing my face. Despite my best efforts he noticed.

H
e rubbed it lightly and I swore it didn’t hurt, but it did. He suggested we run away since he just turned eighteen. I couldn’t do that to him because in seven months he would be graduating. Besides, my mom would find me. She would hunt me down like a bloodhound so she could insure her alimony and child support.

I told
him that I would think about it but we both knew damn well I couldn’t really go through it. Things at home had been getting worse and worse since my parents finally divorced two years ago and my dad couldn’t reel her in any longer. His visits were always sporadic but after the divorce they stopped altogether leaving me to fend for myself.

Abigail
Kline was selfish, self-centered, and egotistical. If it didn’t work for her she wasn’t happy. She was rarely ever happy. I often wondered if she always acted like this or if it was just after I came into the picture. I was an accident and she never let me forget it. She recently started dating a much older man, Clark Donahue. He was from New York and traveled here a lot on business. I liked when he’d fly her there to visit because it made my life easier, but it wasn’t often enough.

Noah pulled into the parking lot of school and I was thankful that we
had a couple classes together. Just spending time with him made my day better. We both took AP classes and were working really hard to keep our grades up so we could get into good colleges. He wanted to be a lawyer and I wanted to be a journalist since I could work from pretty much anywhere. I was willing to go wherever he was.

We had plans for the future.

In the beginning of our dating relationship we decided we were going to wait to have sex until we were married. If we had our choice, it would be as soon as I was eighteen. Something happened that day that changed everything…

We walked in my front door after insuring that my mom’s car wasn’t there. We were laughing
because trying to tickle me. He left our book bags by the front door and we headed to the kitchen. I would always make us a snack before we started on our homework. There was a note from my mother on the kitchen counter. I assumed it was just her telling me that she would be gone again, but it wasn’t. It said she found my behavior unacceptable and out of control. It went on to say we were moving to New York to live with Clark. A plane ticket dated for a week from today sat next to the letter. Starting tomorrow movers would be here to take our things to storage. She said not to dare run away because she
would
find me and make my life hell. The saddest part was that she would, even though I was a burden to her.

I sunk to the floor
and put my head between my knees.

Noah took the letter out of my hands
and read it quickly.

“We can still run away
if you want to.” His blue eyes pierced into mine. I wanted nothing more, but I knew there was no escaping her wrath.
Two more years.
I kept repeating in my head. Then I wouldn’t have to see her ever again if I didn’t want to, the chances were pretty good.
“We can’t. She’ll find me and then we’ll both be in trouble. She’s not going to let this go.” I cried as tears poured down my face. He sat next to me on the floor and pulled me close. The thought of leaving him behind was making me literally sick. I couldn’t imagine a life without Noah.                                              

I quickly
changed course. Knowing that my departure was evident we planned to consummate our relationship. He was apprehensive and didn’t want it to be a spur of the moment decision. I didn’t want to wait anymore… I wanted him to be my first, and only. Frankly, I’m surprised we made it this long. He wanted to make it special and in typical Noah fashion he planned a hotel room at the Four Seasons in Atlanta. We would spend our last night together there before he would take me to the airport. We would be separated for longer than a week, for the first time ever.

That week we spent as much time together as possible and I stayed there every night like normal.
Five days later we were in that very room. He went to put our bags in the bedroom and I went into the bathroom to get ready for dinner. We had a reservation for the Park 75 restaurant at eight. I dressed in a sleeveless leather and lace sheath dress that Noah had picked out for me. I paired it with some black wedges and all black lace lingerie that I had picked out at a local boutique. I pulled my hair in a half bouffant, curling some of the pieces for a rocker chic look. I applied some light make-up and finished the look with red lipstick. I felt beautiful. I picked up my clutch bag and headed for the door. I glanced at Noah who was dressed in a charcoal gray suit with a white shirt and black tie.
He looked breath taking.
He was beaming at me and told me I looked gorgeous (he would say that if I was dressed in a potato sack.) We walked hand and hand to the restaurant. I ordered lemon-thyme chicken with grilled asparagus and mashed potatoes and Noah ordered the beef tenderloin with béarnaise sauce and hand cut fries. Neither of addressed the fact that I was leaving. We knew it was going to happen but didn’t want it to spoil our special night. After dinner we shared a peanut butter lava cake. When we were done eating he pulled his chair closer to mine and produced a ring from inside his suit pocket. It was a sterling silver ring inscribed with
Faith Love My Jujube,
his nickname for me.