Sugar Rush

  COPYRIGHT

  In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property.

  If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by the author who can be contacted at bellaemybooks@gmail.com.

  Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2019 Bella Emy

  Cover © Just Write Creations

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  SINGLE ON VALENTINE’S DAY SERIES

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  Also By Bella Emy

  About the Author

  CHAPTER ONE

  Jackson

  January 2016

  “So, this is it, Amalia? Three years of being together, a year of nonstop planning the wedding of your dreams, and you just want to end it?”

  “I... I’m sorry, Jackson. But I just don’t feel the way I used to anymore.”

  We’re sitting in my black Bentley coupe parked in front of the driveway of her house. We were supposed to be going out to dinner, but when I picked her up, I knew something was off. Instead of greeting me with her usual bright-eyed smile–the one that could have landed her with a Miss America pageant title any day–she had come to me wearing red puffy eyes and a look on her face that spoke a million words. I have known her for over ten years, having been the best of friends since we were kids. I know Amalia like the back of my hand.

  She shrugs and places a hand on my knee. When my eyes look up to meet hers, I can see she’s got more to say.

  “Jackson, I am really sorry. I don’t know what else to say. I just wanted to tell you before it got any worse... I didn’t want to end up cheating on you, but I can’t control my heart. I love Paul,” she says, pulling her hand away.

  Paul, her sister’s new boyfriend’s best friend. Amelia–yes, Amalia and Amelia... they’re identical twin sisters, but I can spot their differences immediately, even if others can’t–had begun dating Joseph about a month ago. One night, as I had brought Amalia home from work, I helped her carry some bags inside that she had loaded up in my trunk. When we walked in, Amelia, Joseph, and his best friend, Paul, were all sitting down at the dinner table. Amelia introduced us to Joey and Paul and asked us if we wanted to join them for dinner. Before I could even open my mouth to let them know we already had plans and we were supposed to be on our way back out to grab a bite, Amalia had accepted. I was stunned, and I felt a bit out of place. She had answered for the both of us without even consulting me. She knew we had plans... plans that we had been making for over a week now.

  Anyway, I should have known it that night that Amalia felt a certain way about Paul. As we sat at the table, she’d lean in just the slightest bit closer, placing a hand underneath her chin, hanging on to every word he spoke. And man, did he speak quite a bit.

  That night, her eyes barely even looked my way, fixated on him, sparkling like diamonds as he talked. She was practically eating out of the palm of his hand. I saw him smile at her, telling her how he was joining the police force.

  “Men in uniform are so sexy,” she had said plainly, like her fiancé wasn’t even in the room. But there I was, sitting right beside her. Yet, her body was completely turned away, facing Paul.

  I squinted my eyes at her, but it didn’t matter because, like I said, she wasn’t even looking at me. I was so furious. Why was she flirting like this? She had never disrespected me before. I glanced over at Amelia, and she just shrugged. Her face looked as though she were watching the news, and she had heard the most shocking thing ever. Of course, she hadn’t planned this, and she didn’t know her sister would react this way. As far as I knew, Amelia liked me and never had any issue with me. I treated her sister well. I was always on time... she would have no reason not to like me.

  But never in all my time together with Amalia did she ever make me feel like I didn’t come first, like I wasn’t her world.

  That night, however, she did.

  And now, here we are on the verge of breaking up. Honestly, I should have seen this disaster coming sooner. Our relationship hasn’t been the same since we’d met Paul. She had begun pulling away from me after that night and started acting funny.

  Now I see why.

  I should have paid more attention and realized we were in trouble. I never would have thought shit would have hit the fan like this, though. Fuck, man.

  I don’t know what it is about the dude, or why she’s picking him over me. Yeah, sure he’s not a bad looking guy. I mean, I’m not gay, and I’m comfortable enough with my sexuality to know what kind of looks drive women wild. Paul is just a few inches taller than me. I’m six-foot-two-inches. Unlike my dark brown hair and emerald green eyes, he’s got the opposite. He’s got blond hair with dark brown eyes, and he definitely looks like he’s modeled before. Think Zachary Morris from Saved by the Bell. Paul could be his twin. And what’s ironic is that Mark-Paul Gosselaar played him in the series. Paul and Paul. Catch my drift?

  Anyway, I’m getting way ahead of myself now.

  “Well, then, I guess this is goodbye,” I say, resigning. She’s obviously given this a lot of thought and has made up her mind. She’s in love with Paul now, not me anymore. My eyes are all watery, and I feel like shit. How could the girl I had loved so much for so long just want to walk away from everything we had spent so much time to build? I just don’t get how she can so easily throw it all away for some guy she didn’t even know all that well.

  Amalia leans in closer to me and places the softest kiss on my cheek. Slowly pulling away, she tugs at the three-karat white diamond engagement ring I had proposed to her with two Decembers ago in front of the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center in New York City.

  “No, keep it,” I say, pushing her hand away. I don’t want the ring back. Nor do I want to take it back to the jeweler’s and look like a damn fool. She can keep it.

  “It wouldn’t feel right,” she breathes, tears now visible in her eyes. I guess even though she’s breaking up with me and leaving me for a new man, she must still somewhat care about me. She grabs my hand and places the ring Amelia had helped me pick out for her in my palm. “Goodbye, Jackson. Take care of yourself, OK? You’re a great guy. Please don’t beat yourself up over this,” she says, wiping a lonely tear that had fallen from her eye.

  As she opens the door and steps out of my car for the last time ever, my own tears begin to fall. I can’t believe this is over, and she’s walking out of my life.

  “Goodbye, Amalia. You’ll always have a special place in my heart.”

  Obviously, she doesn’t hear me as she is already halfway down the walkway to her house, but I needed to say those words. I needed some type, any kind, of solace.

  I sit there, parked in front of her house, for what seems like forever. I wait until I see her smiling face from the window waving at me, mouthing the words that she’ll be right down in a minute.
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  But she never does.

  Of course, that never happened. I’m just hoping for it as my mind loves to play cruel tricks on me. This is my new life, real and true, without Amalia in it. The woman I had loved so much for so long has now left me all alone.

  WHEN I FINALLY MAKE it home after sitting in front of Amalia’s house for nearly an hour after she had left, I throw my keys onto the kitchen table and plop my ass down onto the couch. I honestly don’t even remember the drive home; my mind was a million miles away, wondering where the hell I had gone wrong. How could I have fixed things with Amalia? Could I even have? Or was this something that was eventually going to happen?

  Something inside of me tells me that no matter what I would have done, nothing could have prevented this. Maybe if it wasn’t Paul that she had run to, it would have been some other guy or the next guy that would come along. Who knows?

  I pick up the remote from the seat next to me on the couch and turn on the TV. I go through the channels aimlessly, trying to find something, anything, that will catch my attention. What a crappy way to spend a Friday night. Usually, I’d be spending it with Amalia, but I guess that’s no longer going to be happening. I guess this is my new life. Shit, man. I’m so miserable and depressed, maybe I should just get drunk and forget what happened. Maybe I should give Tristan a holler and see if he wants to hit the bar.

  I place the remote back down from where I had first picked it up and pull my cell phone out from my pocket. As I’m about to unlock it and go to the text messaging app, I notice there is a notification from thirty minutes ago on my screen waiting for me. It’s from my co-worker, Paige.

  Paige Allen is the thirty-two-year-old lawyer my firm hired about two years ago. We’re both lawyers and are fairly close when it comes to work stuff. We always talk, and occasionally hang out at the restaurant at the edge of the pier after work. It’s never really been often, though. My outside life had always been about Amalia, my family, and Tristan, my best friend from high school. Paige and I would spend time during work events for our company or any other events Fierce and Branston held. My uncle, Jeffrey Fierce, is partner of the firm, which was partly why it was so easy for me to get hired when I was just twenty-one. I’m a lawyer now and a damn good one, but before I was actually qualified, Uncle Jeff brought me on board to get familiarized and prepared for all that came with the profession. So yeah, fourteen years of experience has really helped me get to where I am now. There’s word that after Anthony Branston retires in four years, Uncle Jeff will be making me partner, changing the company name to Fierce and Fierce. The Fierce last name suits the company well. We have some of the best lawyers working for us, we’re truly fierce.

  Anyway, I guess I had been so out of it that I didn’t even realize my phone had gone off. Fuck, man, I need to get my shit together. I know Amalia and I have just broken up, but what if it were some kind of emergency?

  Shaking my head, I open the notification, bringing me to Paige’s message.

  Paige Allen: Hey, Jax, saw this and thought of you ;) Have a great night. See you Monday.

  A meme of my favorite band, The Flood, pops up. A small smile graces my face. She just made me smile after the horrible evening I’ve been having. I’m so thankful for our friendship. Lord knows I need some cheering up right now. I begin typing back a reply.

  Me: That’s great, I love it. Hope you’re having a better night than me.

  I don’t go into it, because honestly, I’m not so sure she’d really give a fuck to hear all about my problems. But I don’t want to lie to her. We’re at a point in our friendship that she knows a lot about me, and I know just as much about her.

  Paige Allen: Oh no! What’s the matter?

  Do I dare tell her and bore her with my personal issues? Fuck it. It’s either tell her, who actually texted me first, or reach out to Tristan. I know for sure he’ll tell me to fuck Amalia and “go find another piece of ass.” Those would definitely be the exact insensitive words coming from my best friend.

  Me: I don’t wanna bore you with this shit, but Amalia and I are no longer together. Engagement is off.

  Not even two seconds later, a reply comes through from her. At least she appears to care about my worthless existence right now.

  Paige Allen: Jax! I’m so fuckin sorry! Are you ok? I’m here if you want to talk, vent, or whatever.

  Me: Yeah, I’ll be alright. I appreciate it. Just kinda lying low right now.

  Paige Allen: :( I understand.

  Should I go more into this with her over text right now? Maybe I should just stop texting back and talk to her face-to-face on Monday when I see her.

  I think about it momentarily before deciding to just give her a call.

  “Jax?” she answers on the second ring. Obviously, she didn’t expect to be hearing from me right now. Typically, if I ever did call her, it was during work hours to check on something for me at the office when I was out lawyering.

  “Hey. I figured it was just easier to call and talk instead of texting. Hope that’s OK,” I respond.

  “Aww, yeah. Of course, it is. Whatever you want. But what happened? I can’t believe it.” Her sweet voice is so comforting right now. Her concern is truly genuine, and I didn’t realize how much I needed that right now ‘til I called her.

  “She’s in love with someone else. I couldn’t hold her back and marry her if her heart’s not in it anymore.” I let out a deep sigh. This is hard to admit, but it’s the truth.

  “Paul?” she asks.

  Fuck, that’s right. I had told her all about that night when we had met him. Damn, I guess I don’t really realize how much I actually tell her when we’re in the office together.

  “Good ol’ Paul,” I chuckle, but I really just want to cry. Nothing about this is funny to me.

  “Shit, Jackson. I’m so sorry. I knew from the moment you told me about how she carried herself around him that night that it wasn’t a good thing. But I never would have imagined she’d want to call off the wedding and end it with you. Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

  “Yeah, I should have known, too. I brushed it off after that night, but honestly, we haven’t been the same since. She started pulling away from me. It all makes sense now.” I look toward my left to the window. It has started raining. Great. It matches my gloomy mood.

  I clear my throat and then continue. “Anyway, I just wanted to let you know what’s up if I don’t seem like myself for a while and all. I’m going to try to grab a drink and drown these thoughts. Plus, I don’t want to put a damper on your night.”

  “No, no, it’s fine. I’m just sitting here in my living room with Margot. If you need me, I’m just a phone call or a text away, OK?”

  I smile. She’s too sweet. “OK.”

  “Hey, Jax?”

  “Yeah?” I answer.

  “You are too good for her. I know the right girl is out there for you,” she says, almost too quietly.

  “Thanks, Paige,” I respond.

  “See you Monday, Jax. Take care of yourself.”

  We hang up, and I have to admit, I’m feeling slightly better. Just knowing that someone actually gives a shit about me is comforting. I’m glad I’ve got Paige as a friend.

  I go through my phone and pull up Tristan’s number. I’m about to call and ask him if he wants to grab a drink at the local bar, but I suddenly realize I don’t even feel like I need to anymore. Talking to Paige has helped bring me out of my foul mood a little. I smile and put the phone down beside me. I pick the remote back up, skim through the channels, and find the Will Smith movie, Hitch, to watch for the rest of the night.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Paige

  Ever look at a man and think, “Damn, he’s got some sexy hands... I’d love to find out what he can do with those?” Well, that’s exactly how I feel about Jackson Fierce. That was the exact thought I had when I first met him, and since then, my feelings for him have only intensified. But that was always where that ended.

  I take a
deep breath as my best friend watches me hang up the phone.

  “Did I hear this correctly? Jackson and Amalia are no longer together?” Margot’s enthusiastic expression beams off her face, causing me to giggle.

  Of course, I’m not happy about his misfortune... well, maybe just a little. But not because I wish him the worst in life. I actually just want the best for him. I do. I just happen to wish that the best for him is me.

  Yeah, I’ve had the most intense crush on Jackson since I first laid eyes on him. He’s a little older than me, but not enough that would raise eyebrows. And even if he were ten or fifteen years older than me, age ain’t nothing but a number, as they say. He could be fifty years old, and I still wouldn’t care. He’s fucking gorgeous. He’s got this amazing set of shimmering green eyes, dark hair, and a smile that can kill. Wow. He’s so damn beautiful. He’s tall, too, and those hands? I’ve stared at them so many times before since my office at work is not far from his–I get a great front seat view of him from where I sit–wondering what they can do. Totally inappropriate, I know, because he’s got, or had, a woman, but I couldn’t control my thoughts. He did things to me that I didn’t even know were capable of being done.

  How could his fiancé, or rather, ex-fiancé now, let him go for someone else? I just don’t get it. It makes no sense to me whatsoever. I know he’s sweet, and she meant the world to him. I would hear all about the things he’d do for her and sometimes, as he’d walk by, I would hear part of their conversation.

  Margot, or Margie, as I sometimes call her, is my roommate and best friend. She seems to think that I’m in love with him. OK, well maybe I am. But for as long as I’ve known him, he’s always been with Amalia.

  Until now...

  Now, he’s single for the first time ever, and even though I hate that he’s hurting, I can’t deny the fact that I’m a little excited, too. Maybe he’ll notice me now. Yeah, right. I doubt it. I know he only sees me as a co-worker and friend.