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142 pages

English

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The story continues for Mia Adams as she starts the second semester of her junior year as a newly minted senior, persisting with her early graduation goals. School seems to be the least of her problems as she navigates the difficult labyrinth that has now become her life. From a strained romantic relationship to prickly situations among those once considered close friends to dealing with personal loss, senior year isn't shaping up to be an exciting time in her life as expected given that situations seem to bring more heartache than happiness, leaving Mia wondering, "What next?"

Sujets

Adulte

Romance érotique

BD Erotique

Erotica

Romance

Fiction

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Publié par	eBookIt.com
Date de parution	27 mai 2017
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781456628574
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0450€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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Senior Year,

‘94

A novel by
Megan B. March

© Copyright 2017 by Megan B. March

First Edition

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 publisher of this book.

Published by Aventine Press
55 East Emerson St.
Chula Vista CA 91911

Published in eBook format by eBookIt.com
http://www.eBookIt.com

ISBN-13: 978-1-4566-2857-4

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Acknowledgements
Writing a book, not to mention a series, is a daunting task. Aside from creativity and time, it seems to take endless hours of reading your work until you’re literally sick of it. Through this process I learned so much, but there are three things that top the list. First, it’s important to take constructive criticism for what it is—feedback that will only help you improve. Second, letting something sit or taking time away isn’t a bad thing, and is sometimes a must for the creative juices to churn once again. Coming from years of working in office environments, this was the hardest thing to adjust to because I felt in order to be productive, I had to work every day. I finally learned that in some creative careers, forcing yourself to work every day or for set times during the day isn’t necessarily the right thing to do to inspire your brain. Third, writing is a labor of love and making something just right takes time as well as obtaining opinions from others. I’ve lived with these characters for almost ten years and I owe it to them to make their story a good one. You better believe I took time and asked for others’ thoughts.
And now for the usual thanks. To my husband, Bryan, for understanding that my choice in career isn’t necessarily going to pay the bills all the time. I appreciate all your support—both emotional and monetary! To my intuitive and intelligent daughter, Nyah, for having that critical eye for detail even when I’ve lost mine from seeing the words on the page too long. Thanks to my editors, Toni and Bobbie, for your patience and feedback—you’ve helped me do right by these characters. Last, but certainly not least, thanks to my friends, fans, and the rest of my family members who continue to support me in this crazy life of writing!

For Will. You are and will always be deeply missed.
Prologue
“What are we doing?” Jensen wanted to know. The piece of ice he was chewing on was instantly swallowed.
“I don’t know. Eating?” I played dumb.
Jensen became exasperated and gave me one of his noted looks. “Seriously.”
Putting my glass down, I folded my arms across my chest and gave him an annoyed look of my own. “I don’t know, Jensen, you tell me. You’re treating me like I’m one of your guy friends instead of your girlfriend.”
“Are you my girlfriend? Lately your body language seems to say hands off.” My boyfriend of three years raised his arms in the air like he was being arrested. “I even feel like I have to ask if I can kiss you. You only touch or get close to me when there are other girls around. What’s the deal with that? It’s like you’re staking a claim on something you don’t really want.”
“Fuck, Jensen, that’s a shitty thing to say.” I glared at him. “You were blatantly flirting with Bree. Are you that pissed off that you’re trying to get back at me? You know I need some space.” I swallowed hard before saying any more, and even though I knew it wasn’t fair, I pulled out the Fallon Card. “You cheated on me with that Fallon girl and I can’t just forget that.” Seeing the way the muscles in his neck twitched, I knew I had hit a nerve. “Let’s just try to have a nice meal before you leave tonight. After that I need some time to think things over.” I could feel tears coming to my eyes and I fought to hold them back. “It doesn’t mean we’re breaking up or that I don’t love you, but you have to understand the last two months have really been hard on me”
“Alright,” Jensen surrendered, self-massaging his right shoulder with his left hand. Appearing deflated, he sat back and looked around before pulling a chain out from under his shirt with a recognizable ring attached. I hadn’t seen it in such a long time that it caught me off guard.
“You’re still wearing your ring ... around your neck?” I was a little surprised.
He stopped playing with the ring and then held it between his fingers.
“Where’s the other one?” I asked, not quite sure if it was still my ring.
“In a safe place,” he answered without looking at me. “It’s at home in my dorm room.”
Jensen let go of the ring, and it silently dropped against his chest. It was the first time I had ever heard him refer to his dorm at college as his home and it stung a little. Whether he intended it to or not, his statement validated that he really didn’t live here in Juneau anymore.
Letting out a sigh, Jensen leaned forward and gently moved a strand of my hair away from my face. “Mia,” he said, “I realize I was pushing you too quickly to get married. We have a long time to decide on the next step. What you’ve been saying has finally sunk in. You’re right. As much as I hate to admit it, you’re right.”
I am? What just happened? Does he not want to be engaged? We’re not engaged anymore?

When we touch, I just lose my self-control,
a sad sensation I can’t hide.
To love is easy, it ain’t easy to walk away.
I keep the faith and there’s a reason why …
-Def Leppard
1. Senioritis
It was the first day of school after winter break and I didn’t want to be there. Sure, seeing familiar faces I had not seen for two weeks was going to be nice, and now, after a lot of planning and hard work, I had finally become a senior, but I was not nearly as excited as I should have been. That’s because my ex-fiancé-maybe-boyfriend had just found out he has a kid with the girl who broke his heart over three years ago. Even though she probably hadn’t planned on doing it, Savannah revealed this news to Jensen while we were with his family during Christmas break in Phoenix. Devastated when he told me, I wasted no time in leaving to come back to Alaska where I ran into even more trouble when I made the stupid fucking decision to go to a party with Nate, a close friend of mine. It was there that I proceeded to get completely smashed and do the one thing I swore I’d never do—cheat on Jensen. The thing was, I’d had so much to drink that I had no idea it was Nate I was with instead of Jensen. I even went so far as to have sex with him, but that was something I never intended to do.
“How could I have been so stupid?” I chastised myself aloud, running my hands along the steering wheel. The morning after pushed its way into my brain as I sat in my truck and closed my eyes, trying not to think about how cold it was or that the pain in my lower abdomen was back, stabbing me more than usual. I really need to get that checked out.
Sighing, I sat back and allowed my memory to go back to the point when I woke up and realized that it wasn’t Jensen lying beside me, but Nate.

I still had my bra and panties on, which gave me hope, but that diminished after I poked Nate awake and hastily asked in a whisper if we had slept together. Nate didn’t answer right away and carefully regarded me as if he was thinking it through, then confirmed that we had. With tears in my eyes I told him that I thought he was Jensen. “How could you have taken advantage of me like that?” I wanted to know, and he easily replied that I had asked him to stay. That was true, but only because I was sure it was Jensen whom I was inviting to stay with me. “And what about Aria? What are you going to tell her?” I practically spit the words out.
Nate sat up so quickly that the blanket covering the lower half of him swiftly moved and fell to the side. My eyes impulsively shot to where the blanket had been and I almost felt relief when I saw he was still in his boxers. In no uncertain terms he let me know that I’d better not tell her or he’d deny the whole thing, reminding me that I was so drunk no one would believe anything I said. The two of us exchanged more words that were not so nice, and pointing toward the door I told him to leave. Nate looked me in the eye and in a not-so-polite fashion reminded me that he drove me to the house in my truck, leaving his car at the party. He quickly disappeared into the bathroom and slammed the door.
Getting up off the bed, I pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt I had draped over the side of my laundry basket, a sign to remind me I could wear a set of clothes again before washing them. Just as I pulled the sweatshirt down around my jeans, the bathroom door opened and Nate stepped out without a word. He proceeded to furiously pull his clothes on while I went into the bathroom to try and pull myself together. Looking in the mirror at my pale, ragged face, I gathered my hair back into a simple ponytail and splashed cold water on my eyes. Small streams of water flowed down my cheeks, but I could barely feel them. Next, I brushed my teeth to get the horrible taste out of my mouth and ran a wet washcloth over my face and neck. Leaving the bathroom, I found Nate standing in the living room by the front window, staring out with his arms crossed.
“Where are my keys?” I reluctantly asked him after doing a quick sweep of the living room. “And my wallet?”
“Here,” he said, throwing my keys to me that were in his hand the whole time. I caught them in mid-air, but not without the jagged key poking my hand and cutting it slightly. Looking down, I saw a tiny amount of blood and automatically rose my hand to my mouth and sucked the little bit of blood away before going to the kitchen to get an aspirin. My head was pounding hard and I knew it wouldn’t go away on its own.
“