Four Years Later: A Novel (One Week Girlfriend Quartet, Band 4) - Softcover

Buch 4 von 4: One Week Girlfriend Quartet

Murphy, Monica

 
9780804176828: Four Years Later: A Novel (One Week Girlfriend Quartet, Band 4)
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0804176825 ISBN 13: 9780804176828
Verlag: Random House Publishing Group, 2014

Inhaltsangabe

Bestselling author Monica Murphy winds up her sensational series with this sexy story of two college kids with nothing in common but a bunch of baggage and a burning attraction.
 
Over. That about sums up everything in my life. Suspended from my college football team and forced to cut back my hours at The District bar because of my crappy grades, I can’t keep turning to my sister, Fable, and her pro-football playing husband, Drew, to bail me out. I just can’t seem to find my own way. Weed and sex are irresistible temptations—and it’s messed up that I secretly hand over money to our junkie mom. A tutor is the last thing I want right now—until I get a look at her.
 
Chelsea is not my type at all. She’s smart and totally shy. I’m pretty sure she’s even a virgin. But when she gives me the once over with those piercing blue eyes, I’m really over. But in a different way. I won’t deny her ass is killer, but it’s her brain and the way she seems to crave love—like no one’s ever given her any—that make me want her more than any girl I’ve ever met. But what would someone as seemingly together as her ever see in a screwed up guy like me?

Praise for Four Years Later
 
“Another great entry into the series and a perfect way to close out what started with One Week Girlfriend. As always, Monica Murphy gives us such great characters, giving them such depth and emotions that it’s hard not to love them from the minute you meet them on the page.”—Cocktails and Books
 
“An engaging, heavily character-driven new adult [novel] that brings us the story of a much beloved character. Seamless writing flows effortlessly as Murphy sets up the plot elements and begins her story of love, loss, redemption, and forgiveness. . . . Four Years Later was a delight to read.”—Smexy Books
 
“Monica Murphy has created an unforgettable series. Her writing is honest, gritty, romantic and entertaining. Her characters are very real people that readers can relate to. We embrace them in our hearts. Their lives and stories will stay with [us] long after the book is finished. It is no wonder that this series is an all-time favorite. . . . The One Week Girlfriend series has been an amazing reading journey that has touched my heart.”—Hesperia Loves Books
 
“Emotional and gratifying . . . This romance was full of tension and longing! . . . Monica Murphy has another win with Four Years Later. Owen and Chelsea’s story was touching and passionate, and is sure to make you sigh in contentment by the end.”—Waves of Fiction
 
“What a fantastic ending to an amazing series! . . . It took my emotions on a roller coaster ride but hey, all the good books do! . . . Four books and I still want more! I’m not quite sure I could ever get enough of these characters. They’re all complex, and beautifully broken in their own ways. Combine that with Monica Murphy’s fantastic writing skills and you always have a winner.”—Down the Rabbit Hole
 
“It’s official! When it comes to NA romances and inner monologues, Monica Murphy is a queen! . . . I highly recommend Four Years Later! If you read the earlier books then you just have to get this one too. It was wonderful to see how the earlier couples are faring . . . but Monica Murphy had truly made this Owen’s book. I love it!”—In My Room Reading

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Monica Murphy is the New York Times bestselling author of One Week Girlfriend, Second Chance Boyfriend, Three Broken Promises, Four Years Later, and the eBook novella Drew + Fable Forever. A native Californian, she lives in the foothills of Yosemite with her husband and three children.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

Chapter 1

It doesn’t matter what people think about you. It’s what you think about yourself that counts.

—­Unknown

Owen

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, hazy and distorting, 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 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 the best 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 stay 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, where I’m a waiter 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 Fable and Drew have no problems. They live in the Bay Area, he plays for the 49ers, and he’s one loaded motherfucker.

But I refuse to take a handout from them beyond their helping me pay for school expenses and my house, 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 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 his girlfriend, 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 out 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 my 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...

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Verlag
Random House Publishing Group
Erscheinungsdatum
2014
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0804176825
ISBN 13 
9780804176828
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
320
Kontakt zum Hersteller
Nicht verfügbar
Verantwortliche Person
preigu
mail@preigu.de

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