The Fragile Line: Part One (The Fine Line #2) Read online

  The

  Fragile

  Line

  PART ONE

  A Fine Line Novella

  by

  Alicia Kobishop

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

  Copyright © 2016 by Alicia Kobishop

  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 permission of the author except where permitted by law.

  Published by

  Alicia Kobishop

  PO Box 510183

  New Berlin, WI 53151

  License Notes:

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your online retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Book Cover by: Alicia Kobishop

  Edited by: Angela Barber Farley

  ASIN: B01BA1H474

  The Fragile Line, Part One

  Recommended for ages 18+ due to strong language and sexual content.

  Chloe McCarthy thought she had found the perfect guy. Someone just as detached as she was when it came to love and commitment. Someone who never pressured her for more than just sex. But when she gets a little too comfortable with their arrangement, and he rejects her for someone else, it triggers heartbreaking memories that leave her questioning her resolve for a commitment-free life. In a moment of self-pity, she calls on the one person who she knows will make her smile.

  Matt Langston lives a drama-free life, and he wants to keep it that way. Chloe McCarthy? All drama. Which is why he needs to stay away from her. A mechanic by day and bouncer by night, he tries to focus on work, but the more he tries, the more she creeps into his thoughts and his dreams, until he realizes that he needs to get her out of his system once and for all.

  The Fragile Line is a spin-off to The Fine Line, told in an addicting three-part romance novella series, with each part building on the last. The series may be read alone, however, reading The Fine Line first will provide a further introduction to the characters which may enhance the overall reading experience.

  The Fine Line

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  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Synopsis

  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

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  A Note from the Author

  Acknowledgements

  More Books by Author

  Meet the Author

  CHAPTER ONE

  ~Chloe~

  Do you ever think about ‘forever’? Have you ever been so certain of the ‘forever’ you envisioned…that it became tangible enough to reach out and grab?

  I have.

  I’ve never been one to plan the details of my life. I preferred to ride the wave to wherever life wanted me to go, so in that sense, my future was up in the air. It was open and free. An unexplored adventure, the proverbial blank canvas. But one thing remained consistent. One thing would always be there no matter what.

  Love.

  I had love in my life once. The kind of love that you could be sure of. The kind that gives you support when you least deserve it. The kind that makes you want to reciprocate and pay it forward.

  But I was just a child when I held that belief. The belief that love is real and that it lasts. I know now that as we grow up, we’re exposed to the truth that nothing is forever and that love is conditional. The kind of everlasting love we believe in as children is nothing more than figments of our imaginations…A mere fantasy fed to us by fairytales and the entertainment industry.

  I wish someone would’ve told me sooner. I wish I’d have known so that I could’ve prepared myself. Because I wasn’t equipped to handle the loss when it happened. What I believed as a child was so extraordinary, so absolute, that losing it…losing everything…turned me into someone I never thought I would become.

  CHAPTER TWO

  ~ Chloe ~

  Present Day

  Kissing Gavin was nothing like kissing Logan. It was okay, just missing something. Missing many things, actually. Like heat. Passion. Intensity. But it was better than some of the kisses I’ve encountered within the last few years and definitely good enough to continue.

  Gavin's hand came up behind my neck to pull me closer, in an effort to deepen the kiss, when his phone buzzed. He sighed, and his forehead rested on mine at the sound.

  “Shit, hang on a minute, Chlo.” He pulled away and took his phone from the coffee table.

  I exhaled sharply, feigning annoyance. The truth was, it didn’t matter to me if I was making out with Gavin or not. I had my mind set on someone else’s kisses. And ever since Liv Evans came along, that someone had lost interest in everything else. Including me.

  I admit, my reaction to Logan Tanner’s rejection took me by surprise. My relationship with him had been refreshing, seeing as he was one of the very few guys who I could hook-up with more than once without ending up on the receiving end of the “let's-be-more-than-friends” talk. He knew I dated other guys, and I knew he dated other girls. Neither of us pressured each other for anything more. It was the perfect arrangement.

  But now, he wanted out.

  I looked around the furnished basement as Gavin answered the call. He really was an attractive guy in a young Patrick Swayze kind of way.

  As he spoke into the phone, my eyes focused on the door to the back room, and my mind immediately went back to that night. The night that ruined everything.

  Two Months Ago

  The Night of Gavin’s Party

  My heart dropped when I saw her.

  After months with no contact, I finally had a chance to remind Logan of what we had before Liv Evans walked into his life, and now she was here, crashing our party.

  At least she brought another guy. Maybe now he’d finally see she wasn’t interested in him.

  I could definitely do without the way Logan watched her play pool, infatuated with every move she made. The old Logan—my Logan—would be embarrassed with himself. Hooking my arm in his, I pulled him down to me, close enough for my lips to tickle his ear as I spoke.

  “You’re way too good for her, you know,” I whispered.

  The corners of his mouth turned upward, but his beautiful hazel eyes didn’t follow suit. They remained cold. Resentful.

  “You’ve got that backwards. I’m no good for anybody.” He ran his fingers through his thick
, dark hair. “And it doesn’t matter. She’s a friend.”

  “Well, I think she’s not good enough for you.” I mumbled softly enough that he didn’t hear me.

  Logan and I met almost two years ago, shortly after his dad passed away. Rumor had it, he was nowhere near the ladies’ man before his dad’s death that he became afterwards. Hearing that made me feel closer to him because I knew first-hand how certain events in your life can change you in an instant.

  In a moment of weakness one night, I tried to ask him about it, about why he changed, but we didn’t have the kind of relationship where you shared your sad stories—and honestly, I liked it better that way. It meant never having to open my own old wounds. In fact, I’d be ecstatic if I never thought about old wounds again, and Logan happened to be the best damn distraction mechanism that I had ever found.

  Before Liv came along, I’d see him here and there at Gavin’s place, at a race, on the strip, or wherever else we and our mutual friends happened to be at any given time. After a while, we started to get to know each other on a more personal level.

  “Friends can be fun,” I said. “I mean, that’s what we are, right?”

  Logan chuckled. “Yeah, we’ve had some fun, haven’t we, Chlo?”

  Finally, I’ve got him thinking about what’s important—me and him. “Hell yeah, we’ve had damn good times.”

  A night like tonight, where loud music and alcohol were involved, would normally lead to us hooking up. But it’s been months since we’d been together on that level. And now that she was here, the chance of me satiating my need for him was slim to none.

  Prior to her, I had faith that he’d eventually come to see how perfect our arrangement was. Now, however, I was beginning to have doubts of him ever coming to that conclusion. Not only was he not fucking me, but I was pretty sure he wasn’t fucking anybody, including the person he had been spending all his time with.

  “Good try, babe,” that new boy said to Liv from across the room. What was his name? Devan?

  Logan’s smile disappeared, and his head turned to the direction of the new guy’s voice. His palm, which had been flat on the bar became a tightly-gripped fist.

  Liv played it up, walking toward her new boy-toy, all pouty, her wavy blond hair cascading down her back. The girl’s got game, I’ll give her that.

  “Aww, how cute. He called her babe,” I said, recognizing how that boy’s term of endearment could work in my favor. “He must be her new boyfriend.”

  Logan’s jaw clenched. I needed to do something to ease the increasing tension. My gaze wandered to the empty shot glasses that covered the bar. As a thought came to me, my hand lightly touched arm, “How ‘bout another shot?”

  He continued to stare ahead as he shook his head no.

  “Fine, suit yourself,” I said, the disappointment in my voice crystal clear despite my attempt to appear unaffected. I sighed as I poured one up for myself. Rumchata this time. No way was I doing another whiskey.

  As I twisted the cap back onto the bottle, I snuck a peek at Logan whose full attention was still on her. Cheers came from the pool table. The game had ended, and it appeared Liv’s new boyfriend won it. I brought the shot glass up to my mouth but froze when I saw that boy—Evan, that’s his name—wrap his arms around Liv’s waist and dip her backward like she was some sort of freaking princess.

  As the shot glass verged on touching my bottom lip, the delicious caramel smell making my mouth water, I watched and waited in anticipation of what I knew would happen next. A smile crept on my face as Evan planted a big, fat, juicy kiss on Liv’s lips.

  That kiss had just brought me back into the game. I pressed the shot glass to my lips and tilted my head back, allowing the milky, cinnamon taste of the Rumchata to slide down my throat.

  I placed the empty shot glass back on the bar just as I caught Liv and Logan staring at each other. Shit. But then he dropped his head, and to my absolute shock and delight, he laughed, shaking his head as if he had snapped himself out of his recent absurd behavior. Then he turned to me with a smile and one eyebrow cocked up.

  His signature flirt move.

  He brought his mouth so close to my ear that I could feel the heat of his breath. “What do you say we relive some old times.”

  My eyes widened as a surge rushed through my body from the feel of his cheek against mine. God, I’ve missed him. An eager smile slipped onto my lips as I nodded a yes to him.

  He took my hand and began to pull me toward the back laundry room. We’ve shared some good memories in that room, and I couldn’t wait to create a new one.

  “Logan,” Matt shouted from the couch. I almost bumped into Logan from his instant halt. “Just think, man. Think about it.”

  I shot Matt an evil glance. If that asshole ruined this for me, I’d fucking mace him.

  Logan flipped him the finger and wrapped his arm around my neck, leading me into the other room.

  Thank God.

  I stumbled when Logan tripped through the doorway, but we caught each other. I don’t know if it was the shots, the thrill of being here with him, or the look on his face when he almost fell, but something about our klutziness caused me to start laughing hard. Leaning up against the washing machine, I tried to catch my breath. Finally the door shut, and the lock clicked, calming my laughter. The click meant privacy. No interruptions. Just me. And him.

  He looked me up and down as he slowly walked toward me, but he avoided my eyes. His face was serious. Determined. Remembering how much posture can affect the way my body looked, I straightened myself up as he approached. He stopped directly in front of me, no more than a few inches away.

  His strong hand reached behind my lower back and forced my body against his. I inhaled sharply from the rush that instantly consumed me. Even with the whiskey on his breath, he smelled incredible. His hand travelled up my back and behind my neck, his fingers slipping through my hair gently just before he fisted a handful of it. Bringing his mouth so close to mine that I could feel the heat from his lips without actually touching them, he stayed still, like he was contemplating something.

  Kiss me, dammit!

  What the hell was he hesitating for? He needed to stop thinking, and I couldn’t wait another second. Frustrated, I took his head in my hands and pushed my mouth onto his. A hum escaped his throat when my tongue slid across his lips. Finally, he loosened up and pressed his mouth onto mine.

  “Damn, girl. It’s been too long,” he whispered.

  He missed me.

  I smiled against the kiss, elated that he wanted me just as badly as I wanted him, yet frustrated that it took him so long to realize it. My words came out in part-moan and part-whisper, “Don’t ever make me wait this long again.”

  He reacted immediately, lifting me onto the washer and pressing his body against mine as I wrapped my legs around him. I kissed his neck and pulled up his shirt up slightly, giving my palms access to his flawless abdomen.

  His hand found its way under my shirt, grazing and exploring as we continued to kiss. My fingers slowly traced down his stomach and under the elastic of his boxer briefs. He let out a moan as my hand trailed downward, and with whiskey-lined breath, he moaned, “Mmm, Liv.”

  Wait. What. The. Fuck?

  Her name swirled around in the air for a moment and instantly sobered me up as I breathed it in deep. It stung. Hard. We froze, neither one of us able to deny the frigid bite of the truth I had tried so hard to deny.

  I removed my hand from his stomach, then unwrapped my legs, and pulled myself away from him, until my ass hit the back of the washing machine.

  “What did you say?” I squinted.

  He looked me in the eyes now. For the first time tonight, come to think of it. “Fuck. Sorry, Chlo, that slipped.”

  “It slipped?” Panic began to set it. Had I already lost him? “Who the hell were you just kissing, Logan?”

  He took a step back and looked at the floor, shaking his head. “Shit.”

  “Answer
me!”

  He looked up at me, slightly puzzled by my outburst. He seemed to have regained some small piece of composure, although still drunk off his ass. “Chloe, I’ve never lied to you, and I’m not about to start. I’m sorry that just happened.”

  “You were thinking about her!”

  He leaned with his hand against the wall and squeezed the bridge of his nose with his fingers, squinting his eyes. “I wish I could stop thinking about her. I can’t fucking stop.”

  Even with my jaw open, I couldn’t breathe. The stabbing pain in my chest immobilized me. I swore flames must have manifested from somewhere because my entire body burned, and moisture savaged my eyes as if they were getting smoked out.

  Why was I having this reaction? I didn’t love him. I just loved the compatibility we shared. Loved the simplicity of our arrangement. Loved the comfort he gave me. Right?

  When he lifted his head and noticed my reaction, the drunken, dazed, and distracted look on his face transformed to flat-out confusion. He had no clue how much I needed him. And clearly, that feeling was nowhere near reciprocated. He cocked his head and stared at me that way for a moment. Then the light bulb went on in his head.

  He took a step toward me, reaching for me. “Shit, Chlo, I didn’t…I didn’t know.”

  I slid off the washer and took a step back, avoiding his grasp. “Didn’t know what? That I might actually like you?!”

  Frustrated, his brows pulled together, but his eyes were still compassionate. And filled with pity, making me even more nauseous. “Well…yeah. I’ve always been upfront with you about my intentions, Chloe. Can you really blame me? I mean, we’ve never even gotten to know each other. It’s always been about…”

  “Getting laid?” I offered, bitterly.

  He sighed, “I know I sound like an asshole here, but I honestly thought we were on the same page. If I had known you wanted more, I never would’ve let any of it happen.”