Because It's You (Carolina Rebels Book 2) Read online

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  Because It’s You

  A Carolina Rebels Novel

  Copyright © 2016 by Lindsay Paige

  ISBN-13: 978-0998195506

  All rights reserved.

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products, bands, and/or restaurants referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  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 favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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  Title Page

  Prologue

  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

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Coming Soon

  Carolina Rebels Roster

  THIS IS UTTERLY ridiculous. How did I let Sylvia talk me into this? She’s given me space, but I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not. All I’ve done so far is stand at the bar, order drinks, and drink them. Well, I keep pulling my dress down too. It shouldn’t even be called a dress!

  Sylvia’s bright idea was to put me in a piece of green cloth that starts across my breasts and ends two inches from my ass. I feel like either a nipple or cheek is about to pop out and flash everyone at any second. My dress is layered with green leaves and vines. I’m wearing green fishnet stockings, a red pair of stilettos, or hooker heels as I’ve deemed them, and a mask over my eyes that has leaves over it. I’m even wearing a red wig. I’m supposed to be Poison Ivy from one of the Batman movies, but I feel like a pile of leaves with a touch of Christmas with all the red going on. A slutty pile of leaves, that is.

  It’s bad enough she wants me to start dating again, but to insist I come to this Halloween party hosted by one of Scott’s friends is crossing the line! No, the line was crossed when she dressed me in this...this...thing! Sure, my boobs look good, but that’s what happens when you’re wearing a lacy push-up bra, because yes, she even bought my undergarments. My face had to be as red as the wig on my head when I saw that was also included in the bag. On top of everything else, the wig is making me hot. It seems warm in here anyway. The last thing I need is to start sweating.

  My dear sister-in-law is out of her mind. She said she just wants me to look great and have fun, but she’s hoping I get laid.

  Fat chance of that happening!

  She couldn’t pay me to have sex with someone. How many times does she need to hear, “I’m not ready,” before it gets through that thick skull of hers? Apparently, more times than I feel like saying it.

  Needing a break from the noise, I carefully walk to where I think the bathrooms are. I wear heels often enough, but never any this high. I’ve been drinking tonight as well. I need to be extra careful to avoid falling. When I find the hallway, I begin to feel dizzy, so I lean against the wall. If I’m not careful, I’ll move the wrong way and my dress will expose either my top or my bottom. Not thirty seconds pass with my hand on my forehead when a door squeaks.

  “Are you okay?”

  My knees weaken at the sound of a voice which is pure sin even with such few, simple words. I lift my head to see a man wearing a Speedo. It’s the colors of the Canadian flag, which is kind of odd, and in the middle, barely concealing a tempting looking dick, is the maple leaf. There’s a medal hanging around his neck, too. When I manage to lift my gaze even higher, I see the bright blue eyes of a man with a beautiful grin, a slightly crooked nose that’s probably been broken at some point, and short blond hair.

  Damn. He’s as good-looking as his voice portrays.

  “Are you?” he presses.

  “Am I what?”

  His grin widens. “Are you okay?”

  “Oh. I’m fine.”

  His gaze travels down my body, at first causing shivers, but then I wonder if my dress has moved, so I look down at myself. Nope. Dress is still covering me.

  “You look hot.”

  My head snaps up so quickly, it’s a wonder I don’t bump it on the wall behind me.

  “What are you doing hiding in a hallway by the bathrooms?”

  “I needed a break. It’s crazy in there.” My freaking eyes keep dropping to the maple leaf. It’s just there! Standing out since it’s red on white and not to mention, there’s the fact that it’s doing a terrible job of concealing his dick.

  “Not a fan of parties?” There’s a teasing in his voice that his seemingly ever-present grin confirms.

  “Not really.” My eyes drop again. Man, I should get laid. This guy is toned and obviously has a good package. Maybe Sylvia was right. I need to let loose. At least for one night. With the liquid courage coursing through me as my heart pulses so hard I can feel it everywhere from my head to down between my legs, I look into Baby Blue’s eyes. His mouth opens with another question, I assume. That seems to be all he does. Ask questions. That should stop. Before I can think this through, I launch toward him.

  Baby Blue is surprised, but he grabs my hips. My hooker heels are amazing because they help lift me up to his height. When I press my lips to his, he kisses me back. His mouth parts and I slide my tongue inside, tasting alcohol. Suddenly, I’m pressed against the wall with my legs hooked around his hips and the maple leaf is getting acquainted with my lacy red boy shorts. His hands are holding my bottom and his fingertips dig in hard enough to cause an oddly pleasurable pain.

  Fuck me now, he can kiss!

  The pang in my chest at the realization that this is the best kiss of my life can’t be heard over the roar of my heartbeat.

  “Let’s get out of here,” he whispers against my lips before kissing me again. All I can do is nod because there’s no way I’m voluntarily removing my mouth from his. Baby Blue is walking and the next thing I know, he’s opening the door to a truck and setting me in the backseat. I walk backward on my hands as he crawls in after me. He kisses me hard, stealing my breath away.r />
  I open my mouth to complain when he stops, but then he opens the center console in the front seat to grab a condom. That’s when I panic. I can’t do this! This is wrong. I don’t know anything about him, not even his name. I know nothing! Most importantly, he’s not my husband. This is a bad idea.

  Baby Blue starts kissing me again. A loud moan resounds in the cab as his fingers graze over my panties. Shit. That moan was from me. The urge to leave floats away. I’m too consumed by a man wearing a Canadian Speedo.

  How is this my life right now?

  “What’s your name?” he mumbles between kisses down to my cleavage.

  “Ivy,” I lie.

  He chuckles. “Makes sense.” He lifts his head with that cocky grin. “Mind if I fuck you, Ivy?”

  “Please,” I beg. God, who am I? There’s no time to think about it. Baby Blue has pushed down the Speedo and put on a condom without me noticing. He pushes my panties to the side and enters me. His truck is quickly filled with moans and groans and grunts and pants. For a few blissful minutes, I’m not Elizabeth, or Lizzy, or a widow. I’m not the woman who avoids fun and happiness like it could kill me. I’m not the woman who has to be convinced for two weeks that I should go out and attend a Halloween party.

  Unfortunately, I’m a woman who after a few too many drinks can be easily persuaded to climb into the back of a truck and fuck a stranger. This thought doesn’t hit me until after our orgasms, which were way too good for sex in a vehicle.

  “I need to go.”

  “What? Why?” Baby Blue asks, but I’m already slipping out from underneath him and nearly falling out of the truck as I open the door and try to get away.

  I adjust my dress, kick off my heels, grab them, and run to the other side of the building where I parked as Baby Blue calls out, “Ivy!”

  God, what have I done? I rip off my mask once I get onto the road. I’m so thankful I left my keys in my car and didn’t carry anything inside with me. This is not who I am.

  My sob can’t be helped. I’ve betrayed him. That is definitely not what he would’ve wanted for me.

  “I’m so sorry, Roger. I’m so sorry.”

  “I’M NOT GOING,” I say for the millionth time. Sylvia is really starting to piss me off with her insistence that I go on a date with some guy I don’t even know. She keeps setting me up on dates, each seemingly worse than the prior one. I was able to push her off some after Halloween and that disaster. She knew that was a bad time for me, even if she didn’t know exactly why, as I never told her what happened.

  “Lizzy, at least meet him before you make up your mind,” she tries, going for a new tactic.

  My mind is already made up. I don’t know why she’s wanting me to go out with this guy so bad. She knows I don’t like to date. She knows I have no interest in dating, especially after Halloween. There are too many other things in life I’m choosing to focus on instead.

  “Meet him and if there’s no spark, then we won’t set you up. You can come with me to the game, and we’ll go to the bar with the guys afterward.”

  That’s when it hits me. “He’s a hockey player? Come on! No.” My voice turns cold and hard. “You should know better, Sylvia. It’s not happening.”

  Her gaze fills with pity and I hate it. Everyone always looks at me with pity when the briefest of thoughts enters their minds. Her voice softens. “Don’t say no because of that. He’s a really great guy, and I think he’ll be good for you.”

  Good for me. Not necessarily to me. Sylvia has good intentions, I know. She wants me to jump back on the dating wagon and be happy again. Her intentions are off, though. She wants me to go on a date with this guy for my own sake. He’d be good for me. At least she thinks he will. She thinks he’ll make me smile again. Make me loosen up. Make me have fun and be happy again. I don’t know if that is possible. She thought I was resistant before? I’ve been even more so since Baby Blue. God, just thinking his name makes me feel weak in the knees and sick all at once, and that’s not even his real name!

  It’s been ridiculous how often I’ve thought about him. How often I’ve dreamt about him and woken myself up from the orgasms in my dreams. For a few moments, I smile and feel good. Then the guilt drags me down. I don’t want to date anyone and definitely not a hockey player.

  However, I can’t stand Sylvia looking at me like she is.

  “Fine. But I’m not going to the game.”

  “Please? You’ll be too busy talking to us to even pay attention to it.”

  “Fine.” I’m tired of arguing with her. That’s all we do lately. Besides, I can always leave if the game becomes too much for me. “Is Scott even okay with you trying to hook me up with one of his teammates?”

  When Sylvia glances away to take a sip of her drink, I know Scott doesn’t have a clue.

  “Sylvia! Are you insane?” I definitely can’t do it now. It’s just odd altogether.

  “I’ll tell him. He wants you to be happy too, you know. He won’t argue too much.”

  Either way, that won’t be my problem. Hell, maybe Scott will end up being on my side. Sylvia talks about how good this will be and I eventually tell my beloved sister-in-law that I have to go. My hands start trembling as soon as I walk out the door. Am I really going to a hockey game tonight? I’ve avoided all sports on ice for five—almost six—years now.

  While I’ve come a long way, I still struggle in some aspects. I’m not sure the void will ever be filled, but I do the best I can. Despite Sylvia’s good intentions, this date will probably end up like the rest she’s made me go on this year. For some reason, she’s decided that this is the year I become happy again. I’m not unhappy, but I’m not happy either. I’m in this odd place in between where I can’t go back, but I can’t move forward either. I’m stuck where I am.

  And out of all the crazy men Sylvia has set me up with, she thinks a hockey player is going to be the one for me? Maybe I should talk to Scott because she’s losing her damn mind. Just thinking about the game and his job makes me want to throw up and I don’t even know which of Scott’s teammates it is. Not that I would really know. I’ve stayed away from that part of his life.

  Time flies by and too soon, Sylvia is here to pick me up. That’s one way to make sure I show up. She frowns at my outfit choice, but doesn’t try to convince me to change. I’m in simple jeans and T-shirt. I’m not here to impress anyone.

  “You could’ve at least worn team colors,” she mumbles as she pulls out onto the highway.

  My bright yellow shirt definitely isn’t the navy, black, or silver colors the team wears. “What’s the guy’s name?”

  “Marc.” She begins telling me all about him. “He’s best friends with Noah Ramsey. He’s a fun guy with a great personality. He may seem a bit full of himself, but it’s all in good humor.” I start tuning out after that.

  The closer we get to the arena, the tenser I get. Sylvia knows this is seriously pushing my limits and I fear I’ll break. My mouth stops functioning, turning me mute as we park and head into the arena. I don’t want to be here, especially not for a man. I don’t pay attention as she leads me up stairs and eventually to a door. On the other side is a group of ladies and a few kids. I don’t belong here with the wives and girlfriends.

  A soft gasp escapes me when I see the ice. To everyone else, it probably looks normal with the red and blue lines and the Rebels logo in the middle. It’s shiny as it reflects all the overhead lights and looks slick from where a Zamboni probably went over it not too long ago.

  But all I see is red.

  Blood.

  Lots and lots of blood.

  A black tunnel narrows my vision. I’m overwhelmed with a sense of lightheadedness. My body feels light and heavy all at once. My chest starts heaving as I struggle for control.

  “Lizzy? You okay?”

  It gets worse as I hear the players with the slicing of their skates on the ice. Unwanted memories surge forward and consume me. I shake my head and back out of the room. I ha
ve to get out of here. Now. Outside the room and in the hallway, I fall onto my butt, rest my forearms on my knees and my head on my arms, and try to take deep breaths. This proves that it was idiotic to think that I could do this. Sylvia comes to check on me, but I’m too lost in my own head to answer. Air seems to evaporate and I struggle to breathe properly. All I see is red, and all I feel is panic and horror. I stare down at my stomach, repeatedly reminding myself that there is only a yellow shirt and not pools of blood instead.

  Eventually, I calm myself down, lifting my head to see Sylvia sitting next to me.

  “Better?”

  I nod.

  “You should probably see someone,” she says gently.

  No, what I should do is avoid what causes me to react like this. “I’m just going to sit out here. I can’t...” I wince as if I can still hear the skates on the ice. “I can’t deal with the sounds. You don’t have to sit with me.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.”

  She heads back inside the room. To distract myself, I pull out my phone and play a game. Should I stick around to meet Marc? I can’t even listen to him play. What’s the point of seeing if there’s a spark? It’ll never work. I can’t be supportive when I can’t stand the sport anymore. I should get up and find another way home, but I’m not sure if I’m capable of standing right now. Back and forth, I struggle with what to do. Apparently, I don’t decide in time. Sylvia comes out with a smile, lets me know the team won, and then we’re heading to the bar.

  I order an amaretto sour to calm my nerves. Who knew I’d be nervous about this, especially with all the false bravado I was able to muster at the party? Two women approach our table and Sylvia introduces me to Theresa, Nathan O’Donnell’s wife, and then to Meredith Quick, Noah Ramsey’s fiancée, who kind of looks familiar for some reason. I’m too anxious to think about why she might be familiar, though. A few more women arrive, but I stay quiet, choosing to listen to their conversations. I finish two drinks before the guys arrive.

  “Ladies,” I hear as an arm lands on my shoulder, causing me to tense. “Your favorite Rebel is here.” The voice is sexy and manly. It’s the kind of voice where if you ever had phone sex, you’d want this voice on the other end. I wince a little because if I tried, it could sound just like Baby Blue. Gulping, I find courage to turn to look at him.