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Forever an Ex: A Novel - Softcover

Murray, Victoria Christopher

 
9781476748856: Forever an Ex: A Novel
Softcover
ISBN 10: 1476748853 ISBN 13: 9781476748856
Verlag: Gallery Books, 2014

Inhaltsangabe

From the author of The Personal Librarian, three Los Angeles women who’ve helped each other overcome heartbreak are reunited eight years later when their troublesome exes come back into the picture in this follow up to Victoria Christopher Murray’s bestselling novel The Ex Files.

Sheridan, Kendall, and Asia first bonded when they met seven years ago at a church prayer support group and now, their friendship has blossomed into a strong sisterhood. They've helped each other through the tragedies of their breakups and together, they've celebrated their triumphs. But now, their exes are back, wreaking havoc on lives they've work so hard to rebuild.

Sheridan has found love again after her ex-husband left her for a man. But old wounds are reopened when her ex-husband appears with his fiancée—a woman! And all of Sheridan's insecurities and doubts come rushing back. Kendall's former husband is now married to Kendall's sister, Sabrina. And though Kendall has refused to interact with either one in the last seven years, she's forced to reunite with Sabrina when their father is diagnosed with cancer. Asia has done her best to move away from her married boyfriend, a former star with the LA Lakers. But when they share a kiss, old desires are rekindled and Asia decides that it's time for her and Bobby Johnson to get back together again.

With her trademark writing that “has the kind of momentum that prompts you to elbow disbelief aside and flip the pages in horrified enjoyment” (The Washington Post), Forever an Ex is Murray's best novel yet.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Victoria Christopher Murray is the New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of more than thirty novels, including Stand Your Ground, a Library Journal Best Book of the Year and NAACP Image Award Winner. Her novel, The Personal Librarian, which she cowrote with Marie Benedict was a Good Morning America Book Club pick.  Visit her website at VictoriaChristopherMurray.com.

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Forever An Ex

Chapter

One

Whoever said that a kiss was just a kiss had never kissed Bobby Johnson.

He had kissed me again. Seven days ago. On Christmas. And, I’m telling you, I saw stars.

Now, maybe it wasn’t that Bobby was all that great a kisser. Maybe it had more to do with him being the love of my life, at least until 2007 when he’d made the stupid mistake of breaking up with me and going back to his wife.

That Christmas kiss had stayed in my heart and on my mind. When I was awake, I thought about it and every time I closed my eyes, I dreamed about it.

Just like now.

My body was trying to wake up, but I was floating in unconsciousness. You know, that place where your eyes are wide shut—you’re half awake, half asleep. I was holding on to the sleep part because I wanted to keep dreaming about that kiss.

My lips were right up against Bobby’s and it was so deliciously good. So good that I started hearing bells—no, not bells, my ears were ringing.

But then . . . the ringing kept on and on and on, messing up my dream flow.

Dang! That was nothin’ but my cell phone, and I was pissed. Who would call somebody so early on New Year’s Day? Not that I knew the exact time, but if I hadn’t already eaten breakfast, then it was too early for somebody to be hitting me up.

My first thought was to let my cell ring. But my eleven-year-old daughter, Angel, had spent the night with Monet, her best friend, so I had to answer . . . just in case.

So right before the call went to my voice mail, I grabbed my cell from the nightstand. Without even opening my eyes, I mumbled, “This had better be good.”

“What’s up, Asia?”

My eyes popped right open.

“Happy New Year!”

I pushed myself up, tugging the sheet along to cover my nakedness. “Uh . . . good morning. Happy New Year to you, too, Bobby,” I said to my ex, my daughter’s daddy, the Adonis of my dreams.

“I guess I woke you up.”

“No.” I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to look decent, though I didn’t know why. It wasn’t like we were Face-­Timing or anything. “I’m glad you called.”

“Yeah, I remembered that little superstition you had about a man calling your house first on New Year’s.”

He remembered that?

“So, I hope that I was the first.”

“You are. And now I’ll be blessed for the whole year.”

He chuckled. “That’s what I wish for you.”

Then, a moment of silence. I needed something profound to say that would keep Bobby talking. But before I could come up with anything . . . a moan. And not just a regular moan . . . a loud, long, masculine moan that stretched through time and my bedroom . . . and went right through my cell phone, too.

Dang! I thought, looking down at the body next to me.

“Oh,” Bobby said. “You have company. I should’ve known. Last night being New Year’s Eve . . .”

“No, I don’t,” I said as I kicked through the tangled sheets until I was free and away from Rocco. I had on not a stitch of clothing, but I didn’t care. I jumped out of my bed and jogged straight into the hallway. “That was . . . just the TV,” I said. “Yeah, it was the TV. I had it on last night and must’ve fallen asleep.”

“I’d thought you would’ve been out partying the New Year in.”

“Well, uh . . .” I didn’t want to keep all of this attention on my lie, so I said, “I’m really happy you called.” Now, that was the truth. Like I said, I hadn’t stopped thinking about my ex since I’d spent Christmas Day at his house with his wife, and our daughter.

“Well, I don’t want to keep you. Just wanted you to know how much I care for you and how I wish you nothing but God’s best.”

I sighed and smiled and tingled all over.

He finished with, “And, I wanted to wish you . . .”

“Happy New Year,” we said together, then chuckled together, too.

“Thanks again for being my first, I mean, the first . . .”

“I know what you mean.” Then, after a pause, he added, “Asia, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and in a few days I’d like to come over . . . and talk.”

I inhaled.

He said, “After what happened on Christmas . . . we really need to talk.”

“Okay.” My smile was so wide that my cheeks hurt. I’d been wondering how he felt about that, and now I knew. He was in the same place I was. That kiss had brought back all kinds of feelings, all kinds of memories, all kinds of wonder about why we’d ever broken up.

“I’ll call you, okay?”

“Yeah.” What I really wanted to say was, Come over now, but I’d let him lead this dance.

He clicked off and I did the same. That three-minute call was like a shot of caffeine straight into my veins. What a way to begin 2014.

“Baby, what’re you doing out here?”

Before I could even face him, Rocco was on top of me, kissing my neck with his morning breath. I used the heels of my hands to push him off.

“What’s up?” he said, backing away. “I want to start off the New Year right.”

“We did that last night.” As I marched back into my bedroom, I was mad that I’d run out without any clothes on. Because now Rocco was walking right behind my au naturel glory.

Most of the time I liked using my body to turn men on. In fact, if I had to tell the truth, that’s how I made my living. My job was to maintain my size-four figure, be beautiful, and I got paid for keeping rich men company. I mean, not outright paid. It wasn’t like we went out and they gave me money. But after a couple of dates, the gifts started flowing: diamonds, pearls, furs, shopping sprees at Neiman’s, and vacations anywhere there was a beach and a Ritz-Carlton.

As far as Rocco was concerned, my job was done. I hoped Rocco wasn’t turned on because I was so turned off. After hearing Bobby’s voice, I didn’t want Rocco anywhere near me. So when he wrapped his arms around my waist and pushed his full-blown nature against my butt, I wiggled away.

“What’s up?” He held out his arms, beckoning me to come back. “Why you keep doing that?”

“You have to go,” I said, cutting straight to the chase.

He frowned like he no longer understood English. “Go where?”

Did he really want me to answer that? I mean, it wasn’t like Rocco and I had anything going on. It was just that sometime around Labor Day, I realized I didn’t have a guy for the holidays.

Not that there was any kind of shortage of men in my life. I was still on the circuit and still in circulation. Plenty of athletes had my number locked in their phones. It was just that the calls were fewer. After all, no matter how much I maintained, I was thirty-five, which was ancient in the pro basketball/football/baseball/track groupie arena.

Now, don’t get it twisted—I wasn’t a groupie. I was more of a trophy girlfriend, who was working on becoming the trophy wife. No matter what you called it, though, it was my only ticket out of my ratchet life in Compton all...

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Verlag
Gallery Books
Erscheinungsdatum
2014
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
1476748853
ISBN 13 
9781476748856
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
400
Kontakt zum Hersteller
Nicht verfügbar
Verantwortliche Person
Indigo Musikproduktion + Vertrieb GmbH
https://www.indigo.de

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