Longing to Hold: Prelude to Hard to Love Read online

  Longing to Hold

  Prelude to Hard to Love

  W Winters

  Also by W Winters

  Merciless World

  A Kiss to Tell

  Possessive

  Merciless

  Heartless

  Breathless

  Endless

  All He’ll Ever Be

  A Kiss To Keep

  A Single Glance

  A Single Kiss

  A Single Touch

  Hard to Love

  Desperate to Touch

  Tempted to Kiss

  Easy to Fall

  Merciless World Spin Off

  It’s Our Secret

  Standalone Novels:

  Broken

  Forget Me Not

  Sins and Secrets Duets:

  Imperfect (Imperfect Duet book 1)

  Unforgiven (Imperfect Duet book 2)

  Damaged (Damaged Duet book 1)

  Scarred (Damaged Duet book 2)

  Willow Winters

  Standalone Novels:

  Tell Me To Stay

  Second Chance

  Knocking Boots

  Promise Me

  Burned Promises

  Forsaken, cowritten with B. B. Hamel

  Collections

  Don’t Let Go

  Deepen The Kiss

  Valetti Crime Family Series:

  Dirty Dom

  His Hostage

  Rough Touch

  Cuffed Kiss

  Bad Boy

  Highest Bidder Series,

  cowritten with Lauren Landish:

  Bought

  Sold

  Owned

  Given

  Bad Boy Standalones,

  cowritten with Lauren Landish:

  Inked

  Tempted

  Mr. CEO

  Happy reading and best wishes,

  W Winters xx

  Contents

  Introduction

  Longing to Hold, prelude to Hard to Love

  1. Laura

  2. Seth

  3. Laura

  4. Seth

  Sneak Peek at Merciless

  Chapter 1

  Sneak Peek at Forget Me Not

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Also by W Winters

  About W Winters

  Introduction

  Longing to Hold

  W Winters

  There’s a moment when I forget he’s not mine. This small spell of time, when I let my thoughts carry me away.

  He holds me. He kisses me. He makes all of this better.

  That moment when I’m his and everything is all right, is gone in an instant. It’s quick and fleeting, moving so fast that it slips through my grasp. If I could catch it, I’d hold on to it forever.

  I always thought this thing between us would only ever be just that. A passing moment, a pleasant dream that helped lull me to sleep at night.

  If I’d known what was to come, maybe I would have thought twice.

  I couldn’t have prepared for this.

  Longing to Hold is a short prelude to the Hard to Love series.

  Longing to Hold, prelude to Hard to Love

  Laura

  Our eyes met for a fraction of a second. If that. It was in passing.

  Him on one end of the cafeteria, and I at the other.

  The clatter of trays hitting the tables in our high school cafeteria and the even louder chatter and laughter of everyone else faded into the background. The sounds weren’t worthy of white noise. It all disappeared.

  Despite being across the room I felt him then, his hands on me; I knew they’d be rough and possessive. His lips hit mine, hot and full of hunger, as if he’d been deprived of my touch. I could feel the hard cinder blocks scraping my back as he pushed me against the wall. I could hear the soft moans and heavy breathing I’d give to him the second his lips left mine and he stared deeply into my eyes.

  Peering down at my tray, I can only hope my cheeks aren’t as red as they are hot. It’s hard to swallow, but I do. The perfectly red apple with no bruises or nicks holds absolutely no desire for me to eat any longer, but I bite into it again, not tasting a damn thing while I keep my head down.

  I could look up to see if he noticed, but Seth King’s table is full of other students, his crew as I’ve dubbed them, and mine is empty. One look and someone would see me staring at him; there’s no one else here at my table to hide me or my sordid thoughts.

  So I keep my head down and avoid the curious gazes of anyone watching. Just like I’ve been doing for weeks now. Ever since my dad died.

  My throat’s tight. It gets like that whenever I think of my father, and I nearly choke on the small piece of fruit in my mouth. Apple juice goes down the wrong way and I pretend that’s why my eyes sting.

  I’m dealing poorly with the loss and everything that happened just before it. I’m certain that’s why everyone avoids me now.

  It didn’t used to be like this. I was never one of the popular girls, but I wasn’t a pariah either. That must be it. I’ve become an emotional wreck, so now everyone keeps their distance. It seems fitting enough.

  It’s been weeks and only Cami talks to me since the car crash. Everyone else lets me be. I don’t blame them. The simplest of questions or even a friendly wave—it’s all met with a delayed response because my mind was elsewhere, or worse. I’ve cried out of nowhere more times than I can count. So now they leave me alone. I’m grateful, because it’s embarrassing and I hate it. I hate how weak mourning has made me.

  Everyone lets me be… everyone except for Seth King.

  That has to be why I’m thinking of him like I am. Of all the thoughts of what he’d do to me.

  He doesn’t talk to me, not really. He doesn’t do anything but walk me home. I didn’t ask him to and at first I didn’t want him there. I don’t need an audience for my grieving and no one owes me anything, whether he knew my father or not. I told him just that, but it didn’t deter him and to be honest, a piece of me was grateful that someone was there with me.

  When the school bell rings and all my textbooks are swept up and safely zippered into my backpack, I know he’ll be there. Waiting for me as if he’s supposed to be there. He doesn’t even know me; not like that.

  He doesn’t tell me he’ll be there, but I know when I walk out the double doors at the back of the gym, feeling the cool autumn air sweep my hair behind my neck, Seth will be standing at the edge of the parked cars. Which is directly in my path to walk home.

  Seth’s friends have been there as well lately, surrounding him when I get out.

  I know the crowd of his friends, although I had no idea they even knew my name until recently. Everyone knows about them. They have a certain reputation.

  They’re the boys who are trouble. I know Derrick and all the things people say he does. Seth is their ringleader. That’s a good way to put it.

  Before I’ve even taken a step out of the building, I can hear Seth’s voice. Most times, he glances through the people around him and sees me before anyone else does.

  They usually disperse before I get there, but sometimes they’re still talking. Especially Derrick; he doesn’t seem to get the hint like the others do.

  I’m not the kind of girl to allow a man to tell me to do anything. Certainly not Seth. I listened though. Not a piece of me wanted to be alone on the way home. All the evidence of how low my life had gotten was waiting for me. So I let him. He stands right at the entrance to the field, where anyone heading for the north side of town can walk right through a gap in the fence . Students like me.

  I go to him; he walks me ho
me. It’s as simple as that.

  But last week, his crew was talking and I didn’t want to be a part of it. I didn’t need Seth to walk me home and I definitely didn’t need to wait around for him. I thought, I’m strong enough and I’ve had enough of Seth acting like my babysitter or whatever he thinks this is. I’m not one of them and I don’t need to be a burden.

  I walked around Derrick and Seth, not wanting to interrupt their conversation and not wanting to anticipate that he was waiting for me. Even though he’d been doing it every day I wanted to make it clear that I didn’t assume it was going to last forever and, more importantly, that I didn’t need him to. I didn’t need his sympathy or whatever it was that convinced him he should be watching over me like he did.

  After all, I barely know him. I know of him. It’s different. His crew is older and they’re all seniors. I’m only a sophomore.

  Their fathers run the gang—if that’s what it’s called?—that my father was a part of.

  I’m just the lonely girl Seth has to babysit, I think. Maybe his father told him to do it as a favor to my now dead father; I don’t know. I don’t care either.

  So last week when I saw that their conversation wasn’t coming to an end, I decided that if he’s busy, I’ll go about my business, refusing to be the inconvenience I knew I was.

  Seth didn’t like it, though. He didn’t like me walking around them. He didn’t like that I didn’t wait.

  I know that he didn’t because of the way he yelled out my name. His voice was deep and full of irritation. The little hairs at the back of my neck stood up and it wasn’t because of the chill that accompanies the end of October.

  I couldn’t even look over my shoulder at him. Instead I stood there for only a moment, frozen, watching the tall grass between the posts of the white fence waving in the breeze. And then my right foot moved, followed by my left. I kept my head down and continued forward.

  He wasn’t the boss of me and he still hadn’t given me a reason as to why he was doing all of this. I still don’t know for certain.

  So I kept walking. None of them owe me anything. Regardless if they were close to my father or not. If they want to help because my dad worked with them, they can send money or something, I’m sure my grandma could use the help with the bills.

  At least that’s what I was thinking when I ignored him yelling after me.

  Until his strong arm came from behind, wrapping around my lower belly. His forearm was solid against my hip and my back hit his chest.

  “Wait for me, Babygirl,” he whispered although his tone was rough and demanding. Babygirl. The name is probably inconsequential to him. I bet he calls a lot of girls that three-syllable nickname. It hit me hard though, like it meant more. It’s like a memory you can’t place. When it feels so familiar and comforting, but you don’t know why. That’s what his harshly spoken whisper, almost a reprimand, did to me. The girl I used to be wouldn’t have tolerated it before. But that girl is long gone, and she took my will with her.

  Seth’s breath was warm on my neck. It traveled lower even through the cold. His hand slipped under my cardigan and lingered on my hip as his thumb brushed the exposed skin there. The layering tank top I had on beneath my sweater had ridden up when he moved to hold me.

  It was maybe a third of minute, all of twenty achingly long seconds of him standing next to me, his heat enveloping me. I swear he runs hotter than everyone else.

  I nodded, not trusting myself to speak and it’s then that I noticed the other guys, most certainly Derrick, must be right behind me. I felt their presence. They followed too and they were close enough for me to hear although they whispered. The few students who walked around us stared. Great, I thought, now I’ve made a scene.

  I heard Derrick’s voice. That’s what made me turn around to face all of them, something about having a good night, but he said my name with it. Have a good night, Laura. That’s all it was. Derrick’s first words to me were casual and seemingly innocuous.

  I was going to say, you too like a normal person, even if it was weird that he’d speak to me. He never had before. But when I turned, Seth was there, too close, and with a look in his eyes I didn’t care for. Concern, disappointment, maybe something else as well when his gaze met mine.

  It’s been thirty-four days since the first time he walked me home. I count because I’m waiting for it to end.

  Only twenty-two of those thirty-four days he actually walked me home. Twenty-two days of him by my side every step of the way after school. The weekends I’ve been alone to obsess over the change in events.

  And seven days since that day I can’t shake, when I disappointed him. When he called me Babygirl. It was last Thursday. And here I am, still wondering about it, replaying it and debating on where I should stand today if they’re talking again. I won’t walk off, because I don’t want him to look at me like that again.

  It’s a foolish reason, but I know it to be true.

  So all of this, this sexual tension between us, I know I’ve made it up in my mind. It’s embarrassing and I hate it. If there was anything at all between us, he would have made that clear. He doesn’t even speak to me apart from occasional niceties when we walk the fifteen minutes to my grandma’s townhouse. Nothing. And if I know anything at all about Seth, it’s that if he wanted me in any way, he would have been damn clear about that.

  I’m just a girl who lost her father, and Seth is a boy who feels the need to make sure I’m okay because he knew my father. I’m sure that’s all this is. But my mind wants it to be more.

  Setting my apple down on the full tray of food I probably won’t be able to stomach, I make a mistake and I look over at them. At the table of boys who are trouble at best, and dangerous at worst.

  I just miss making eye contact with Seth’s right-hand man, literally sitting to his right. Derrick’s good looking; I get a glimpse of him first before cowardly averting my eyes and looking back down at my tray. He has the same dark brown hair as Seth but his is longer, swept to the side. He actually styles his hair. Seth’s is shorter, but still long at the top. Long enough to barely grip maybe, but not much longer than that. Short enough not to have to style.

  I’ve been doing that recently, I think with a touch of humor as I tap the plastic fork on the tray. I’ve been comparing every man I see to Seth. I always come to the same conclusion: they can’t hold a candle to Seth.

  It’s his eyes though and his dominating aura around him that draw me to Seth. The piercing blue gaze, the broad shoulders and that strong jawline. Everything about him radiates power and sex appeal.

  One more glance, just one, and I drink him in. Even though Seth’s not overly muscular, he’s toned and has enough of a defined outline of muscle that anyone who sees him knows he works out, or rather, that he could hurt them easily enough. It’s what keeps his jaw sharp, I think. It’s a clean line, severe like his gaze can be.

  Apart from that, he’s charming and classically handsome. When he smiles, God when he smiles, his pale blue eyes brighten, shining with humor, and his cheeks soften in a way that makes him more than approachable.

  He doesn’t smile much, though. Not recently.

  I peek up, trying to disguise my curiosity as just coincidence that I’m looking his way again to see if he’s smiling now.

  My breath is stolen when our eyes lock and my heart does a weird thud; maybe it’s pretending to be dead, just like I am. To no longer exist since he caught me in the act of daring to look his way.

  Fuck, I’m shit at this. I’ve never been a good liar and I don’t hide a damn thing well. I can’t look away though, not when he’s still staring back at me. I’m caught, literally and figuratively, stuck right where I am, feeling my skin tingle and my cheeks burn.

  My heart’s caught too.

  It only beats again when he nods to the right, his head tilted, almost imperceptibly, motioning with it to come to him.

  I can see myself doing it, walking over to him. I’d have to leave my tray
behind though, because there isn’t a place for me. There isn’t room at his table. What would I do? Stand there like an imbecile waiting for his next demand? I’m foolish enough as it is.

  What if when I got there, he hadn’t called me over? What if all of it is all in my head?

  I wonder if he knows what I’m thinking just by looking at me. I think he does because the corners of his mouth slip down as my lips part. As if I’d spoken the excuse. As if he could hear it from all the way over there.

  “Hey,” I hear a familiar voice say and the word comes with the clank of a tray hitting the cheap table. It jostles as Cami sits, her blond hair bouncing with tight curls as she tells me, “Sorry I’m late, fucking algebra.” Picking up her apple she asks me, “You doing all right? You look a little flushed.”

  Emotions swarm up my chest and my cheeks heat even more. “Fine,” I answer her without looking in her eyes and refusing to look Seth’s way again. “I’m fine.”

  I hate lying, but I’d rather do that than admit how irrefutably not fine I really am.

  Seth

  Derrick shuts the door to his locker and it bangs louder than it should. I don’t care; I keep the back of my head resting on the cool metal of the steel lockers and stare down the hall at room 4W with my hands in my pockets. I’ve never had a class in that room, but Laura has two of them every day in 4W.