He knew what he wanted, and he wanted me.
The One I Want, an all-new emotional, angst-filled new adult stand-alone romance from USA Today & Wall Street Journal bestselling author Siobhan Davis is available now!!!
We thought we were forever, but fate had other plans…
I never intended to fall in love.
This girl had goals and guys were an unwelcome distraction.
Until I met Garrick, my sophomore year of college, and he blasted through the walls I kept around my heart, tearing them down.
He knew what he wanted, and he wanted me.
Falling hard and fast, I experienced the rollercoaster highs and lows of first love.
Until life threw us a curveball, and everything flipped overnight.
Stuck in a limbo state, I was falling apart while trying to be strong for my boyfriend.
Then he entered my life. The hot, slightly older guy who looked like a cross between a tatted biker and a billionaire businessman.
Beck understood me, and our situation, in a way no one else could.
As a friend, he held me together and helped to piece back the shredded fragments of my heart.
I didn’t mean to fall in love with him—it just happened.
No one understands, least of all me.
Now my heart is split in two, and I don’t know what to do.
Is my first love my one true love? Or do I belong with the man who brought me to life?
Start reading today!
“Can I get you anything else?” I ask, my eyes darting to the door. It’s crazy busy and I need to get back. I also wouldn’t mind putting some distance between the two of us. His presence is magnetic, and it concerns me that I’ve noticed.
Little beads of sweat cling to his brow before he swipes them away with the back of his hand. His disarming smile is firmly in place as he stalks toward me. “Just your company.” He moves in closer, and his breath tickles my face when he speaks. “What’s your name, and do you go to school here too?” Curiosity lights up his handsome face as his inquisitive gaze probes mine.
“Why do you want to know?” I step sideways to create some distance between us.
“I’m just making conversation.”
There’s a weird tension in the air. A crackling charge ripping across the space separating our bodies, and I don’t like feeling some freaky connection between us. “Well, I’m working, and they need me outside, so I should go.”
“It’s too quiet in here, and I don’t like hanging around by myself.” His earnest eyes are shielding nothing, and I know it isn’t a lie or a ruse to trap me into spending time with him. “Not when I’m pumped full of adrenaline. Normally, my friends would be here, but they all had shit to do tonight.” His eyes soften. “You’d be doing me a big favor if you kept me company.” He flops down on the couch, still maintaining eye contact with me. He pats the space beside him. “I only have a short break, and I promise I won’t bite.”He flashes me another ovary-clenching smile. “I’m betting you haven’t taken a break all night. Rest your feet and take a breather.”
A break does sound nice, and he’s right. I wasn’t able to take my usual ten minutes earlier because it was too busy. Suddenly, my feet feel heavy, and my legs ache like they might go out from under me.
Garrick hops up and grabs two chilled bottles of water from the mini refrigerator as I lower my tired butt onto the couch. Fridays are always nightmarish because I have classes until lunch, then I work my shift at Butterfly Flowers, and run back to the apartment I share off-campus with my friend Ellen to grab something to eat and a quick shower before showing up for my shift at the bar. I usually sleep in late on Saturday morning, too exhausted to get up early.
“You look like you need this as much as me,” he says, handing me a water.
“Thanks, and I do. It’s hot out there tonight.”
“It’s a veritable sauna, ”he agrees. “If it’s like this every Friday night, I might start showing up in nothing but shorts.”
“That would be one way of keeping your fans loyal,” I tease as I uncap the bottle.
“I’m here for the music, not the girls.” He flashes me a flirty look, that seems to contradict his statement, before gulping back his drink.
“Said no rock star ever,” I deadpan, fighting a grin. “I’m not a rock star nor do I have any desire to be.”
“How come? You must know you’re good, and isn’t it what most musicians dream of?”
He shrugs before draining his second bottle of water and tossing the empty in the trash can. “Not me. Music is a hobby. It’s a release. A way to indulge my creative side. It will never be anything more.”
“It seems a shame to waste such natural talent, but I admire you for knowing what you want and sticking to your resolve.”
“I still don’t know your name.” He twists around on the couch. His knee brushes against my jean-clad leg as he leans in closer, giving me his undivided attention.
It’s unnerving, but I still can’t force myself to get up and leave.
“And you didn’t tell me if you go to UO too,” he adds, looking at me like I’m the most fascinating person in the world.
“I’m Stevie, and yes, I go to school here. I’m studying floral management and just about to finish my sophomore year.”
My eyes pop wide. I’m pretty sure there are no guys in any of my classes. Floral management is not really a guy thing.
He chuckles. “I meant I’m a sophomore. I’m majoring in family enterprise.”
“Oh, cool. Does your family have a business?”
He nods as his tongue darts out wetting his lips. “My dad is CEO of Allen Lumber and Allen Wineries. I’ll be joining the business when I graduate.”
His tone is very matter-of-fact, and it doesn’t seem like he’s bragging. Wouldn’t matter if he was. I’m hard to impress, and I can’t think of any guy who has ever managed to do it. “I know Allen Wineries. The country club I used to work at back home buys their wine. So, you’re from Seattle too?”
“Born and bred.”
“Dad lives in North Bend, and Mom lives in Medina. I used to split my time between both homes.” Air trickles out of his mouth as he drags one hand through his messy dark hair.
Something akin to desire pools low in my belly, but I ignore it.
“What about you? Where do you call home?” he asks.
“Ravenna. I live with my mom, and my nana is close by too.”
“I never knew him.” I’m not about to get into it with a guy who is a virtual stranger even if he seems like an okay guy and the conversation is flowing easily.
“This feels a little like fate.” His eyes sparkle with excitement.
“Us meeting like this.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “It’s coincidence. Not fate. And it’s not like there aren’t a ton of people attending Oregon from Seattle.”
“True, but I’m sticking to my convictions. You call it coincidence. I’m calling it fate.” He attempts to dazzle me with that flirty smile again, and it almost works. Angling his body closer, he stares at my mouth like he wants to kiss me.
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