Impossibly Forever: Two Books in One (Impossibly Duology)

IMPOSSIBLY

FOREVER

The Complete Duology

SHANE
MORGAN

Copyright © 2014
Shane Morgan

TSW Books

All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in
any format. Please do not partake in or encourage piracy of copyrighted
materials. Purchase authorized editions only.

ISBN:
9780615977997 (paperback)

Cover
Image
©
RGBstock

Formatting
by S. Morgan

This is a work of fiction
and is a product of the author’s imagination. Anything mentioned that relates
to actual names, events, places, or institutions are used fictitiously.

IMPOSSIBLY FOREVER:

Impossibly Love

Impossibly True

PART ONE

IMPOSSIBLY

LOVE

CHAPTER ONE

Moya

  
“Open this door right now!”
The urgency in my best friend’s voice was
nothing compared to the thunderous roar coming from outside as she pounded on
my door.

  
Apparently, calling me at 5am wasn’t enough for Vanessa. She had to let
everyone else in the dorm hear about my recent failure to show up on a date she
arranged the night before. Her timing couldn’t have been worse, because it was
almost 8am and I had to get to my Business Law class.

  
Opening the door halfway, I pouted at her playfully. “Nessa, give it a rest. I
told you I didn’t want to go. So don’t come yelling at me now ‘cause the guy
told you off.”

  
“Not him,” she shushed, hands placed on her hips as she rocked from side to
side. “Tobias took it better than I thought, being the sweet gentleman that he
is. Calvin was the one that got all snappy with me because it’s his friend.
Then he called you a bitch. First of all, he had no right to say that about you
’cause you’re my best friend, so of course I went off on him. But that’s beside
the point, Moya.”

  
She pushed me aside and entered the room, plopping down on my bed. “Tobias is a
nice guy. He’s been asking about you since Calvin’s birthday bash back in
June.” She softened her expression and a flirty look appeared. “Plus, he’s
really cute. I can’t believe you’re turning this one down as well.” Vanessa
shook her head, making the tsk-tsk sound.

  
I ignored her dramatics, grabbing my book bag off the arm of the chair. “Nessa,
I don’t have time for this again. I’ve already tried dating when we started
college last year. It didn’t work then, and right now, I’m trying to focus on
my studies.”

  
Vanessa sprang from the bed. “I’m so tired of hearing that!” She waved her
hands in the air hysterically. Her braids all but flew out of the band keeping
them in a ponytail. “No one, absolutely no one, is meant to be alone, and you can’t
go through life like that. Everybody needs love, Moya. Sooner or later
someone’s gonna pop-up and open those pretty little brown eyes glaring at me
right now and make you see the light.”

  
I rolled my eyes and grabbed my keys off the desk. As I turned to open the
door, Vanessa moved swiftly past me and blocked me in, with her plumped,
strawberry-colored glossy lips pursed and a know-it-all expression on her cute
face.

  
I leaned my head and sighed, irresistibly admiring how the subtle, powder
foundation she was wearing gave her cheeks a soft finish. It complimented the
natural glow of her flawless, dark brown skin.

  
Vanessa was quite the beauty. No matter how early in the morning it was. All I
did was showered, combed out my curls, and got dressed casually in jeans and a
sweater for class.

  
Glancing at my watch to check the time, I asked eagerly, “You mind? I gotta get
to class.” Then I pointed a finger at her and reminded, “So do you.”

  
She smacked her gum and opened the door, stepping out into the hallway. 

  
Vanessa didn’t spare a second to switch subjects. The moment I locked up, stuck
my keys in my bag and fell in stride with her, she filled me in excitedly about
the latest campus party. “Anyway, here’s your chance to redeem yourself. You
know Darla’s a member of the hottest sorority here, right?”

  
I nodded.

  
She went on, “So, my girl got us invites to a party this Friday at their
residence hall apartment. We’re talking free food, cool music, and hot guys.”

  
Vanessa threw her arm around my back and jerked me a bit. “Moya, say you’ll
come and not leave early for the weekend to write papers or read chapters way
ahead of your classes?”

  
I sucked my teeth and moved the loose curl that fell over in my face. “No way,
you know I don’t like parties, everyone just gets wasted. Nessa, you know I
don’t drink.”

  
Bringing me to a halt on the last step of the stairs, Vanessa jiggled excitedly
as she implored, “Come on! We’re sophomores now for crying out loud! Let’s take
advantage of this freedom. No parents. No curfews!”

  
I let out a titter. Ever since we were kids, my best friend had a way of making
me relax with her enthusiasm.

  
“You know what,” I flicked her forehead gently with my middle finger, “you’re
like a little devil on my shoulder, telling me all the bad yet “fun” stuff I
should do.” I waved off Vanessa’s pouty lips as we approached the main doors of
the dorm.     

  
Getting outside, she tugged on the sleeve of my knitted sweater before I could
take off down the path to the school of Business. “Girl, please, we came to
Easton U together. I really want to have a little bit of fun with my best
friend before we graduate. You’ve already ruined our first year with this blah
attitude. It’s time for us to party a little.” She pleaded with puppy dog eyes.

  
“Okay,” I exhaled. “I’ll think about it and let you know later. Right now, I
gotta get to class.”

  
“All right,” Vanessa gave me a slight nudge then took off towards the school of
Medicine where she majored in Occupational Therapy. I headed in the opposite
direction to the school of Business.

  
Finance was not my first choice. However, after testing it out in my freshman
year, I decided to stick with it since the major hadn’t placed a bitter taste
in my mouth.

  
I’d been deliberating on what exactly to major in at Easton U until Momma
convinced me money should be my area of study. To her, I was a genius at
budgeting, in other words cheap—so, why not earn a degree and get paid for my
calculative thinking.

  
Honestly, I was partly doing it for my momma. College was her dream for me. She
worked hard as a single mother so we could afford to live in an upscale
neighborhood like Berlin Heights, Baltimore, and that I’d have unlimited
opportunities. Not that I didn’t aspire to get to Easton University as well; I
was doing it for both of us, which was why my main focus was on my
education—not on dating and partying.

  
Sinking into my seat up front, I took a breather before getting my laptop ready
for Business Law. It was my second week as a sophomore and already I had a bad
rep in class for questioning Professor Durant’s concepts. Aside from filling me
in on his many accolades and what qualified him as an instructor, he also
reminded me I had the option of voluntarily dropping out of his class should I
find him unsuitable to teach me. Of course, I stayed, because it was a
requirement for my major.

  
The good professor wasn’t the only one who made me feel uneasy the first week.
There was a guy—not too bad looking if I might add—that sat by the window on
the far left side of the room. It seemed he strategically selected that seat to
have his attractive outlines highlighted in the sunlight, looking like a model
from one of those sizzling cologne Ads.

  
Several moments during the last class, he’d smooth his hand through his ash
blond hair and served me a flash of his brow. His bluish-green eyes appeared
inviting each time I glanced over from feeling his gaze on me. 

  
His hotness wasn’t the problem though, or the fact that I’d even noticed. He
just wouldn’t stop staring at me. Evidently, he hadn’t picked up on my
uninterested face as yet—tight-lipped, blasé attitude, and annoyed eyes—because
he appeared delighted in sharing his opinion whenever I had something to say
last week.

  
Maybe he got a kick out of doing that, but I certainly wasn’t a fan of guys who
tried to sound intelligent just so they could impress me out of my clothes. No
matter how enticing he appeared.

  
What was his name again? Branden, that’s right. Branden McCarthy. What did it
matter? Durant was about to pose a question for class discussion and it was
imperative I listen.

  
“Meet Caroline. She had been working as an assistant Creative Designer for a
big name fashion company for about three years. On the day Caroline was hired,
she signed a contract that required her to share any ideas about improving the
company’s clothing line with the Senior Creative Designer. She was never to
withhold designs for herself or share them with competitors. Now, what happened
was, Caroline decided to start her own clothing line and sell on the side. Her
boss became aware of this venture and decided to fire Caroline on the grounds
that she breached her contract and will maintain that belief should she decide
to file a suit against the company. What are your thoughts on this?”

  
Professor Durant rolled up the sleeves of his plaid blue shirt and stuck his
hands in his pockets, peering around the room as several eager students raised
their hands high in the air, desperate to be called on.

  
His forehead furrowed as he directed his attention on me, curious as to why my
hand remained beside my laptop on top of the desk. Durant’s next move reminded
me why I disliked Wednesdays already.

  
“Ms. Douglas, nothing to share?” he asked in a condescending tone, sitting on
the round edge of his steel designed instructor’s desk with the admirable
cherry laminated top. Apparently, I had an eye for interior design as well.

  
I closed my laptop and stretched my hands out on top of it, replying politely,
“My hand wasn’t raised.”

  
He nodded as he replied, “Yes, which has me somewhat concerned, since you had
plenty to share last week. Surely you must have something to help Caroline’s
case?”

  
I was being pulled out so I delivered sharply, “Not really. Caroline should
have brought up her intentions to start her own clothing line before going
ahead with it. The fact that she was hiding, and designing discreetly doesn’t
make her look good.”

  
“I don’t remember Professor Durant ever mentioning that Caroline was hiding and
designing discreetly.” He spoke, no surprise, in opposition with what I said.

  
Branden McCarthy better be prepared. I was going after him now.

  
“Professor?” he looked to Durant for confirmation.

  
Professor Durant stood; a smug look appeared on his face as he glanced from me
to Branden. “No, Mr. McCarthy. I did not. Thanks for pointing that out.”
Turning to me briefly, he said, “I’d rather you use details I’ve provided, Ms.
Douglas. Give me your views without speculating. So, am I to assume Branden,
you’re for Caroline?”

  
Branden leveled in his seat as he answered, “Yes, Professor. In Caroline’s
defense, the contract stated she should give her ideas when it regarded the
company’s line. Besides that, young designers in big name fashion companies do
their own thing all the time. So, I think she’ll win if she brought up a law
suit—”

  
“Law suit?” I repeated mockingly, turning in my seat to give Branden unwavering
contact even though he was sitting four rows over. “Are you serious?”

  
Professor Durant cleared his throat. “Ms. Douglas, take it easy. It’s only a
class discussion.”

  
I nodded and continued, “Sounds to me like Caroline’s true intentions were to
get inside a fashion company and gain exposure for three years in order to get
her own stuff off the ground. What’s to stop the company from saying she copied
their designs to make hers? Sounds reasonable—”

  
Branden cut me off, “Then, that would be speculation again, Moya, and very
unethical of them.” The soft way in which he said my name placed a weird
feeling in my stomach. I relaxed a bit.

  
For a moment, I sat staring at him, not hearing the rest of his statement. I
regarded Branden’s polite manner, how confident he seemed. When he finished speaking,
the corner of his mouth turned up and smirked at me. It was in such a
delectable way I actually considered jumping over the desks and toss him to the
floor. 

  
I shook off the crazy fantasy—what was I thinking?—remembering instead how
Branden interrupted me earlier. I began shooting invisible lasers as I glared
at him and said, “Sadly, Branden, we live in a world where companies aren’t
always ethical. Caroline would be lucky if she got any buyers at all if she
challenges a top fashion company with a flimsy lawsuit. Besides, she was
probably let go because they believed she’d be holding back good designs for
herself. I think this is a good opportunity for her to now focus on her own
clothing line. Why waste time going after the company only to be in the right?”