Authors: Kelly Mooney
Tags: #Romance, #Football, #actress, #Mystery, #Love, #New Adult, #second chances
Only One
by Kelly Mooney
Copyright 2014 by Kelly Mooney
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 by any information storage and retrieval systems, without prior written permission of the author except where permitted by law. This book is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to any person living, or dead, any place, events, or occurrences is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author’s imagination.
Table of Contents
COLE
I couldn’t remember a time when I didn’t love Annabelle Woods. She was always placed right in front of me, like a giant present waiting for me to cut the ribbon. Annabelle acted like she didn’t think of me in the same light, so I always grew up thinking that.
One look and I knew she was nothing but pure girl. She was absolutely beautiful, but I always thought of her as an angel in disguise with that face. She could shoot better than any guy I knew and fish and hunt better than any of them, too. Hell, I actually saw her put a few of my friends under the table doing shots on several occasions. But to look at her, well, hell, it was like standing outside the pearly gates waiting to be let in by the hottest damn angel you’d ever seen. With all that long, wavy, brown hair, and those big emerald green eyes. She had legs that never stopped in those little cut-off shorts she wore, and I was damn sure she knew they drove me crazy.
She was well known as one of the sweetest girls in town, but also as one of the wildest. I wasn’t wild. Her Daddy put me in charge of her when I was just about thirteen years old. I could still remember him pulling me aside. “Listen here, boy, my baby needs someone like you watching out for her at school. I know you care for her, so I want you to be the one to keep an eye on her and make sure none of those boys hurts her. I love you like a son, and I trust you, Cole. Do me proud, boy. Make sure nothing happens to my baby girl.”
Only problem was sports became a big thing for me around freshman year, and she became a big thing to Tate Weaver about the same time. I couldn’t keep my eye on her as much as I would’ve liked. Tate Weaver was the king of douchebags. And, sadly, Annabelle believed every sordid word that came out of his cheating, lying, dirtball mouth. The dude was an asshole, only she never saw that side of him. Maybe she did, but she just chose not to acknowledge any of it. Sure, I could’ve told her. Hell, I had on numerous occasions, but she never listened.
Trouble was Annabelle had such a rebellious side that she was hard to contain. And since she’d not been coming around me as much, it proved harder to do what he asked of me.
One night in particular was engrained in my head forever. I could still picture her like it was yesterday. She was wearing those little white cut-off shorts that drove me crazy and a thin-ass yellow tank top, allowing her ample cleavage to taunt every guy within twenty feet. It was the dead middle of summer of our junior year, and almost everyone in town had done it already but her. The gang had gathered at Dead-man’s drop.
Normally it was pretty safe, but there was a storm that had been working its way in that night, one that had me on edge. I couldn’t figure out why until the very moment it happened. There was an old pier that jutted out into the ocean. It was old and rickety with one light that shone down below into the rough waters. It was scary as hell looking down before you jumped, but it was all in good fun. That night was nothing of the sort. It was one of the worst nights of my life. Waves and high winds were settling over the water, and Annabelle had a little too much to drink beforehand to get her courage up.
Honestly, I was positive she’d chicken out and all would be fine. I should’ve known better. No one told Annabelle what to do except her daddy, and sometimes his orders didn’t go over so well. When I voiced my concerns for the tenth time she rolled her eyes and smacked my shoulder like I was being ridiculous.
Someone yelled out my name, so I took my eyes off her for a split second. Not a heartbeat later I heard her scream and the distinct sound of the water splashing as she hit it. She hadn’t hesitated to plunge in, nor did I, once I realized she’d actually gone and done it. I couldn’t see her anymore. I scanned all around me with my feet kicking as I treaded the water, yelling out her name into the darkness of the night. It was a simple dive most of the time. We had all done it and escaped without a scratch.
I’d never been so afraid in my whole life. Unable to find her after a few seconds of feeling around me and screaming for her, I didn’t care that people could see me breaking down into tears in the water. The waves crashed against the pier billings. The moon kept going in and out with the dark clouds. Everyone else, including her asshole boyfriend, froze or ran for the beach. But me, no way was I leaving her. I loved her more than anything in this world. I dove under without worrying about what was going to happen to me. I didn’t care if I died. I just needed to find my Belly. It took me another full minute to reach her, but it felt like an eternity had passed. If I couldn’t save her I was prepared to swim down there with the fishes right alongside her.
I’d never in my life performed CPR, but I’d learned how to for the lifeguard job I held here at the beach. It was like God gifted me with the strength of ten men as I pulled her with me, dragging her body to the beach. Every breath, every single lungful of air I had I pumped into her to keep her alive that night.
Thinking she wasn’t coming to and that she couldn’t hear me, I professed my love to her.
When she came to minutes later, she looked up at me and whispered, with a tear in her eye, “Shit, Cole, I told you not to fall in love with me.”
My entire senior year I had wished that I could take those words back, well, until the night before I left South Carolina anyway.
Annabelle
It’d been two years and two hundred and ten days since I left my family behind. Every morning I marked my calendar, and a little part of me died inside as I took the pen to the paper. I missed them so much it physically hurt.
“Hey, Anna, what are you eating?”
I glanced up from my script, about to take a bite of the peanut butter toast I’d made for breakfast. I hadn’t eaten anything since lunch the day before, so I was starving. “I’m just having one piece, Aaron. It’s fine.”
He shook his head, stalked over to the refrigerator and pulled out one of those pre-made green smoothies. “Here,” he said before grabbing the toast away from my plate. “Drink half now and put it back in for later. That’s all you need. You know the rules, Anna. No more than 800 calories a day or you’ll gain weight and get fired.”
I took a deep breath and smiled. “Of course.” I’d been in California for almost three years, and not once had I made the trek across country to go home. My family surprisingly resigned themselves to the fact that I wasn’t coming back for visits, or possibly ever. When we spoke I heard the disappointment in their voices. Every time they begged to come see me, I told them I didn’t have the time. Hollywood was calling and I had to answer while the iron was hot. The beach and my camera could wait.
I slowly sipped the drink and replaced it back in the fridge.
Aaron, satisfied, walked away briefly. A few moments passed before he came back around. “Here’s your agenda today and some fruit for lunch. You
will
call me if anything changes or you go somewhere else. You know I don’t like you running around town without me. I’ll know if you do, Anna.” He leaned down and kissed my lips. “I love you. I do all this for you. You’ll thank me someday.”
I wasn’t sure why I was with him anymore, and even questioned what I saw in him when we first started dating. He was different back when I first met him, and I was lonely, craving something, someone. He was smart, funny, sexy, loving, and he had all the connections I needed written inside of his little black book. He dangled it in front of me constantly, but I never got to see inside of it. One time I tried to take a peek while he stepped away, but just as I’d opened it, he caught me.
I’ll never make that mistake again.
It was the first time a man ever hit me. Of course, since I was prancing around on a television show half-naked, he couldn’t do that anymore, or he had to be real careful. But he had other ways of making me hurt, if need be.
It started about six months ago. At first it was little things like the clothes I wore, or how much time I put in at the gym. Shortly after he became downright nasty verbally and controlling as the months went by and, quite frankly, I was getting sick and fucking tired of it all. My first clue that I needed to get out was a night I was hanging with a friend, having a drink. She had excused herself to use the bathroom, so I texted her to hurry, that our cab was here. Not a minute later Aaron called me and asked me why the hell I was texting Candace if I was out with her. I knew right then he was somehow getting access to my phone and monitoring everything I had been up to. That was the night I should’ve walked away, but didn’t have the guts to.
He had a way of making me believe I deserved all the mental and physical abuse at first, and whenever he went a tad too far, he always reverted to the man I met when I first came out to sunny California. Beautiful, intelligent, loving Aaron. The only reason I let him get away with his behavior was because he made damn sure that I remembered he had gotten me all the jobs. He had made my dreams come true. The one time I did threaten to go he made me pay for it. I hid in the house for over a week to hide the bruise on my cheek.
He was making me famous, at least that’s what he said. And now I was positive that fame wasn’t worth all the tea in China, at least not by his side. I just needed a little more time to execute my escape plan without his knowing.
For one full year I managed to avoid going home to face everyone. My family came to visit once, and even though it made me ache for home, I stayed behind, still wanting to prove something. Soon after my first year living out west, my agent, Aaron Kane, and I started spending more and more time together, to the point he was either at my place, or I was at his. After six months of dating I moved into his fancy Hollywood Hills loft. And during those months of dating I lost twenty-five pounds that I didn’t have to lose. When I went out West to chase my dream, I was 5 foot 5 and a healthy 125 pounds. I saw myself fading away to nothing to land a role, or to have my face plastered in a magazine. Aaron, who oversaw my life, had brought me to the low point that I had a hard time getting out of.
I’d become a person I couldn’t recognize anymore. Looking in the mirror, it was impossible to find the real Annabelle Woods anymore. The Annabelle Cole loved was long gone, and I was scared as hell I’d never find her again.
I didn’t have much more time before either I had to go home or my family would fly out to find me. We talked all the time, so they knew I was safe and making decent money. They had no idea about my living arrangements or the fact that I was sleeping with my agent. Daddy was getting restless at not seeing me and I couldn’t blame him. It had been too long. I missed everyone so much, but at the same time I was too ashamed of what I’d let myself become. I was downright afraid to go home.
To face them.
To face Cole.
He was the only boy I’d ever loved. I never told him until the night before he was leaving, because I knew if I didn’t, I would never get that chance back. And one thing I hated was living with regret. I would never regret or forget that one night in his arms.
Cole was leaving town to pursue his dream of playing college football and maybe going pro, and I refused to stay wallowing in my hometown, missing him. He was my best friend, and the fear of breaking that bond had kept my true feelings locked away all those years. Truth was, I always knew Cole Lucca would break my heart. That’s probably the reason I never handed it over to him. I knew it was selfish of me to want him and walk away after, seeing how he felt about me, but I couldn’t have stopped myself if I’d tried that evening. No matter how many times my brain reprimanded my heart and body, I somehow still ended up there, the place I always believed I belonged—in his arms.