Total pages in book: 12
Estimated words: 11097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 55(@200wpm)___ 44(@250wpm)___ 37(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 11097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 55(@200wpm)___ 44(@250wpm)___ 37(@300wpm)
Prologue
Annika Andrews
October 26th, 1987
Today is my sixteenth birthday and it’s the day I fell so completely in love with Kellen Fisher, my neighbor and my best friend, Kerry’s, brother. I loved him before, but now? Now, I’m in love with him. He also happens to be my brother, Clyde’s, best friend. I have known him my whole life and I’d do anything to make sure I know him for the rest of it.
One of my first memories is of him putting a Band-Aid on my knee after I fell in the driveway. I had been dancing to a popular country song and I tripped on a small branch that had fallen from the tree in the front yard. I was three, maybe four years old. He kissed it afterward, and asked me if it was all better. I nodded and hugged him. He was seven years older than me. I’m not ashamed to admit that I pretty much worshipped him. Who am I kidding? I still freaking worship the ground he walks on. He’s a fancy chef in New Orleans but he’s home every weekend despite being a grown man who lives on Bourbon Street with my brother. I don’t even want to know what he gets up to there. I’m sure he’s knee-deep in beautiful women but I don’t ever ask because I know that if I knew for sure it’d break my heart. He’s never brought one home with him and for that I’m glad. I can pretend it’s not happening. I’m delusional, but that’s the thing about delusions… they’re mine.
My Sweet Sixteen party is being held in the parish hall of St. Thérèse of Lisieux Catholic Church. We are members of this tiny church. Every birthday party I’ve ever had has been held in this room. It’s familiar. I never expected Kellen, the man of my dreams, to show up, but he did. I don’t know why I worried about it. He’s been to every birthday party I’ve ever had. I knew he was working tonight, but he came! My stupid little teenage girl heart skips a beat.
“Hey Legs,” he says, kissing me on the cheek. I have stupidly long legs. They used to be so gangly, but I’ve grown into them and my curves. I may not be the idea of beauty, with my curves and chubby belly, but I love myself. I can my face heating up and my blood pressure rising. Gah! Why does he have to be so hot? He’s wearing a white button down, with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of jeans. He’s wearing the cowboy boots I bought him for his birthday last year. I saved up my allowance and babysitting money for two years to buy them, but it was worth it to see the look on his face. He never would have bought something so expensive for himself. “Happy birthday.” Is his hug lingering? Is it too much to hope it is?
“Thank you, Kellen,” I say, somehow managing to make my voice actually work. He pulls away me and I regret it.
“I got this for you,” he says producing a long prettily wrapped package.
“You didn’t have to get me anything, Kels,” I say, playfully swatting his arm.
“I know I didn’t have to, I wanted to. Take the present,” he says.
“Okay,” I say quickly and excitedly. I practically rip it from his hands. I move to put it on the table with my other presents, but he stops me by wrapping his large hand around my bare upper arm. My party dress is a pale pink sleeveless number and I love it.
“Open it with me now,” he says. He’s got this look in eyes. It’s almost predatory. I’ve never seen anything like it before. It sends a shiver through my body. “Are you cold?”
“N-no. I’m good. I’ll open it now.”
“Good girl,” her murmurs and my heart stops. What the heck was that? He releases my arm and I rip open the wrapping paper like a kid on Christmas morning. It’s a velvet jewelry box.
“What did you get me, Kels?” I ask, looking up at him.
“Open the box and see for yourself,” he says, smirking.
I do and see that nestled in navy blue crushed velvet is a delicate but ornate pearl choker with my initials AK, short for Annika Khloe, incrusted in diamonds. I run my fingers over the strands in awe. I love pearls. I’ve several single strand necklaces, bracelets, and earrings. I’d rather drip with pearls than with diamonds.
“Oh my gosh, Kels? Is this really for me?”
“Of course it is. Allow me?”
“Yes. Please,” I say, handing him the box and turning my back to him. He deftly puts the choker on me, clasping the back of it at my neck. I pray he can’t feel my pulse. I know it’s fast and ragged. His long, thick, fingers trail down my skin for a split second. I try so hard to keep a moan in, but I’m don’t think I succeed. Maybe he didn’t hear me.