Drew + Fable Forever: A One Week Girlfriend Novella (16 page)

But a push present? That’s reaching.

“No.” She laughs, the sound filling me, making my heart light. “I was just kidding, Drew.”

I’m relieved, because how the hell am I supposed to know about this stuff? I’ve never heard of a push present before.

Grabbing the folded piece of paper from my top drawer, I walk back to the bed and hold it out to her. “For you.”

She sits up, bringing Autumn with her, and takes the piece of paper from me. “What is it?”

“Read it and see,” I say.

Her fingers shaking, she releases a shuddery breath and then glances down, slowly unfolding the piece of paper and reading silently.

I hope she doesn’t think it’s dumb. I’m a little rusty with this sort of thing now. I plan on getting a tattoo of Autumn’s name on my arm or maybe my chest. If I were a real poet, I’d turn something into Autumn’s name but damn, it’s long and has crazy letters.

I’ll save that attempt for next time.

“Oh, Drew.” Her voice cracks and there are tears streaming down her cheeks. I swear I’ve seen her cry more these last nine months than in all the years we’ve been together. “I love it.”

“You don’t think it’s lame? I haven’t written one of those in a long time.”

“That you still want to write them, I …” She shakes her head, seemingly overwhelmed. “I love them. I’ve saved them all. Thank you. It’s beautiful.”

I go to her and settle on the bed beside her, then reach over and take Autumn into my arms. She tries to lift her head to look at me, doing a little bob and weave that I always find amusing, and I start to laugh, rubbing my thumb against my baby’s cheek. “I’ll attempt a poem with her name next.”

“That ought to be tough. There’s a U in her name. Two of them,” Fable points out.

“I think I’m up to the challenge.” Leaning in, I drop a tender kiss on my wife’s lips. “You ready for more?”

“More sex?” Fable asks hopefully, making me laugh. “But Autumn just woke up.”

“I wasn’t meaning more sex, though that’s definitely on the agenda.” I look at her, schooling my expression into serious mode. “I meant more babies.”

Her jaw drops open. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

I cover Autumn’s ears, scowling at my foul-mouthed wife. “Your pretty princess just heard you drop the F-bomb.”

“Drew.” She slaps my arm. “Here I am still recovering and you want to knock me up again. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I like babies. I want lots of them. Don’t you?” I drop my hands from Autumn’s ears and smooth one over her head, her dark hair so like mine. “You need a brother or sister, right, sweetheart?” I say to her.

“Yeah. She does,” Fable finally says, her voice soft, her eyes glowing. “I do want more babies. Just not right now.”

“That’s what I thought.” I kiss her again. “You need to apologize to your daughter for saying such a naughty word.”

“She’ll get over it,” Fable says, leaning her head on my shoulder. She settles her hand on my thigh and her touch burns through the thick cotton of my sweats. “I love you so much, Drew.”

“I love you too, Fable.”

She looks up at me. “Forever?”

I smile and drop a kiss on the tip of her nose. “And ever.”

Dear Readers,

I’m so thrilled to share with you more of Drew + Fable’s story. I feel like we’ve come full circle. A little over a year ago (January 10th, 2013 to be exact) I self published
One Week Girlfriend.
I had zero expectations for the book beyond hoping a few someones would read it. I had no idea so many readers would fall in love with Drew + Fable. I can’t believe how much has happened this last year but know this—I am extremely grateful.

When I wrote
One Week Girlfriend
and followed up with
Second Chance Boyfriend,
I had no intentions of continuing their story. I was done and felt like I ended it at the right place. As I played around with ideas for
Three Broken Promises
and
Four Years Later,
I knew Drew + Fable would appear in both books, especially Owen’s book because come on, they’re family.

But I had so many readers emailing me, messaging me on Facebook, tweeting me on Twitter, etc. that they wanted more. I started to feel greedy and thought
yeah, I want more, too.
So I approached my agent, who approached my editor, and thankfully, they liked the idea. That’s how this novella,
Drew + Fable Forever,
came about—because of you.

I wrote this thinking of you the entire time. So I hope you enjoy this glimpse into Drew + Fable’s lives. I hope it makes you smile and maybe even brings a tear to your eye. I hope you still feel the love and emotion that swirls between these two because man, are they in love with each other. They are so lucky to have found each other. I still feel like they’re real people, which sounds crazy but I can’t help it. These two are special to me. This entire series is special to me.

And with that, I want to remind you that you can see even more Drew + Fable in
Four Years Later
, which is available February 2014. I just can’t quit those two.

Thank you all for your love and support. I couldn’t do this without you.

xoxo

Monica

The Maguire family never takes the easy road when it comes to love, and Fable’s younger brother, Owen, is no exception.

Monica Murphy continues her bestselling New Adult One Week Girlfriend series with

The sexy story of two college kids with nothing in common but a bunch of baggage and a burning attraction.

Read on for a sneak peek.

Coming soon from Headline Eternal.

I wait outside in the hallway, slumped in a chair with my head bent down, staring at my grungy black Chucks. The closed door to my immediate left is composed mostly of glass; it’s hazy and distortional but I know who’s inside. I can hear the low murmur of their voices but I don’t really hear the words.

That’s okay. I know what they’re saying about me.

My counselor. My coach. My sister. My brother-in-law. They’re all inside, talking about my future. Or lack thereof.

Tilting my head back, I stare at the ceiling, wondering yet again how the hell I got here. A few years ago, life was good. Hell, last summer life was
really
good. I was on the team. Running on that field like my feet were on fire and I couldn’t ever be stopped. Coach approved, a big grin on his face when he’d tell me,
You’re just like Drew.

Yeah. That made me proud as shit. I idolize my brother-in-law. He makes me feel safe. He understands me when Fable never, ever could. Not that she doesn’t try as best as she can, but she’s a girl. She doesn’t get it.

Thinking of girls makes my heart feel like it’s made out of lead. Solid and thick and impenetrable. I haven’t been with a girl since … I don’t know. A few weeks? I miss ’em. Their smiles and their laughter and the way they gasp when I dive in all smooth-like and kiss them. Their soft skin and how easy it all was. Clothes falling off and legs and arms tangled up.

Being on the football team meant I could get all the tail that I could ever want. But if I don’t have the grades, I can’t be on the team. If I can’t stop smoking weed, then I’m kicked off the team. If I get caught one more time drinking at one of the bars while I’m underage, I’m
definitely off the fucking team forever. Zero tolerance, baby.

None of us practice what the team rules preach.

The glass door swings open and my college counselor peeks her head out, her expression grim, her gaze distant when she stares at me. “You can come in now, Owen.”

Without a word I stand and shuffle inside the room, unable to look at anyone for fear I’ll see all that disappointment flashing in their eyes. The only one I chance a glance at is Drew, and his expression is full of so much sympathy I almost want to grab him in a tackle hug and beg him to make it all better.

But I can’t do that. I’m a grown-ass man—or so Mom tells me.

Fuck.
There’s my biggest secret. I can hardly stand to think of her, let alone when Fable is sitting right next to me. She would flip. Out. If she knew the truth.

She doesn’t know. No one knows Mom is back in town and begging me to help her. She asks me to get her weed and I do. She gives me beer as payment and I drink it. Handing over all the spare money that I make.

I’m working at The District; I’m a waiter there when I’m not in class or at practice or supposed to be studying or whatever the hell. I’m making decent money, I’m on a football scholarship, and Drew plays for the NFL for the love of God so they’ve got no problems. Fable and Drew live in the Bay Area, he plays for the 49ers, and he’s one loaded motherfucker.

I refuse to take a handout from them beyond their helping me pay for school expenses and my apartment, which I share, thank you very much, to ease the burden. Mom blew back into town last spring, when my freshman year was winding down. Knowing I have a soft spot for her, that I’m easily manipulated by her words.

Your sister’s rich,
she tells me.
That little bitch won’t give me a dime but I know you will, sweetie. You’re my precious baby boy, remember? The one who always watched out for me. You want to protect me, right? I need you, Owen. Please.

She says “please” and like a sucker, I hand over all the available cash I have to her.

“We’ve been discussing your future here at length, Owen,” my counselor says. Her voice is raspy, like she’s smoked about fifty thousand packs of smokes too many, and I focus all my attention on her, not wanting to see the disappointment written all over Fable’s face. “There are some things we’re willing to look past. You’re young. You’ve made some mistakes. There are many on your team who’ve made the same mistakes.”

Hell yeah, there are. Those guys are my friends. We made those mistakes together.

“Your grades are suffering. Your sister is afraid you work too much and she called your boss.”
Holy. Shit.
I can’t believe she did that. But hell, the owner of the restaurant is her friend and former boss, Colin. He’ll rat me out fast, I guess, even though he doesn’t really work there any longer. He and Jen moved on right after I graduated high school. They’re in Southern California now, opening one restaurant after another, all over the place.

“What did my boss say?” I bite out, furious. My job is mine and no one else’s. It’s the only thing that gives me freedom, a little bit of pocket money that I earned all on my own. Not a handout from Drew. Not an allowance to keep a roof over my head and my cell phone bill paid.

It’s money that’s mine because I earned it.

“That you’re working in excess of thirty hours a week.” Dolores—that’s my counselor’s name. She sounds like a man and she’s ancient. She’s probably worked at this college as long as it’s been around and considering it was founded around the turn of the twentieth century, this bitch is old as dirt. “That’s too much, Owen. When do you have time to study?”

Never,
I want to say, but I keep my mouth shut.

“All your grades have slipped tremendously but you’re failing English Comp. That’s the class we need you to focus on at the moment,” Dolores the man-lady says.

“Which I can’t believe,” Fable says, causing me to look at her. Ah hell, she’s pissed. Her green eyes—which look just like mine—are full of angry fire and her mouth is screwed up so tight, I’m afraid she’s going to spit nails. “You’ve always done so well in English. Once upon a time, you actually liked to write.”

Once upon a time, I had all the hours in the world to write. Well, not really, but I could carve in enough time to get the words down. It was therapeutic. I copied Drew at first with it. The guy used to always scribble a bunch of nonsense that made my sister look like she wanted to faint, and I wanted to do the same. Not faint or make my sister faint, but touch people with words.

So I became a carbon copy of Drew Callahan. I played football, I wrote, I studied, I tried my best to do the right thing. I’m a little more outgoing than Drew, though. Girls are my thing. So are my friends. And beer. Oh, and weed.

All of that equals not doing the right thing, despite my intentions.

I tried to kick the drug habit, as they call it. And I did. But then Mom came back around,
and now I have a smoking buddy.

That is all sorts of fucked up.

“I don’t have any time,” I say with a shrug.

“Right. Working a job you don’t even need, you little shit.” Fable hisses the last word at me, and it stings as if she’s lashed at my skin with a whip. Drew settles his hand on her arm, sending her a look that says
chill the hell out.