Forever Craving You: A Grudging Hearts Novel Read online

  Forever Craving You

  A Grudging Hearts Novel

  Nia Arthurs

  First published in Belize, C.A. 2019

  Copyright © Nia Arthurs

  Cover Design: Oliviaprodesign

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that which it is published without a similar condition including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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  Contents

  1. Chandra

  2. Ollie

  3. Chandra

  4. Ollie

  5. Chandra

  6. Ollie

  7. Ollie

  8. Chandra

  9. Ollie

  10. Chandra

  11. Ollie

  12. Chandra

  13. Ollie

  14. Chandra

  15. Ollie

  16. Chandra

  17. Ollie

  18. Chandra

  19. Ollie

  20. Chandra

  21. Chandra

  22. Ollie

  23. Chandra

  24. Ollie

  25. Chandra

  26. Chandra

  27. Ollie

  28. Chandra

  29. Ollie

  30. Chandra

  31. Ollie

  32. Epilogue: Chandra

  A Word From The Author

  Also by Nia Arthurs

  Sneak Peek

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  1 Chandra

  Why do people fall in love?

  It’s just a bunch of endorphins and hormones releasing in the brain, yet it takes perfectly sane humans and turns them into animals.

  Exhibit A: My best friend, Cobie, and her boyfriend—Griffin.

  They’re currently locked in a passionate embrace in the ratty couch with the tattered threads sticking out of the back of it.

  I get it.

  It’s an ugly couch that could probably handle a few more stains.

  But it’s ours. I helped Cobie buy that sofa for twenty bucks at a flea market. We sweated like maniacs trying to heft that thing up the stairs.

  But we did it.

  Alone.

  Two independent women spitting in the face of a world that said heavy lifting couldn’t be done without a man.

  And now, she’s here desecrating said couch in front of my very eyes?

  Man, I need my own place.

  I reach for the doorknob. Yank the door open. Slam it closed again.

  The bang rattles over the sounds of their heavy breaths and pleasured sighs. To be honest, when I first entered I thought the television was turned to the Discovery Channel.

  It was not.

  I tighten my fingers on the doorknob.

  Give it another slam.

  They still don’t notice.

  In fact, the groaning gets louder.

  My best friend is so engrossed in her man, I’m afraid I’ll see the exact moment I become an ‘auntie’.

  As much as I love Cobie, I don’t want to be all up in her business like this. I can barely tolerate it when she pulls me aside to relay some juicy detail after the fact.

  “Ehem!”

  They hear me.

  At last.

  Two heads pop up from the couch.

  One is brown-eyed. Slightly tan but clearly Caucasian. Broad shoulders. Strong jaw. Handsome. The kind that people see on billboards but not in real life.

  He blows out a breath. Runs thick fingers through his messy brown hair.

  “Hey, Chandra,” Griffin says.

  His eyes bounce right back to his girlfriend without missing a beat.

  The other head sticking out of the couch wears a smile. She’s beautiful—the kind that’s wholesome and natural and annoys the crap out of me because it’ll probably stay that way until she’s sixty.

  Soft brown eyes light up. “You’re home!”

  Catching them mid-make-out session has happened so often Cobie doesn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed anymore.

  I cross the room. “Sorry to break up your little party.”

  “It’s okay,” Cobie says, her voice breathless. “We were just hanging out.”

  Hanging out, huh?

  Pretty sure what was about to happen was crossing into HBO at midnight territory.

  Damn.

  I can’t remember the last time a man made me gasp like that. Sure, I’ve been around the block. I know the positions and the rhythms and the dirty kinks, but it’s never been out of love.

  And it probably never will be.

  My bed’s been empty since Rick took off.

  No.

  That’s a lie.

  I’ve been spending my nights with Regret.

  And he’s not a cuddler.

  Stupid Rick. I’ve never regretted anything in my life, but he screwed with that perfect record.

  With my face.

  With my body.

  Just the mention of his name makes me want to scream and tear my hair out. The way things went down with my ex… I should have gotten out sooner.

  I know that.

  I’m ashamed and embarrassed when I think about the way he stripped me and pushed me out into the night. After everything, the ‘accidental’ slaps and the punches and the one time he threw a vase at me—tossing me out of his house with nothing but a flimsy curtain was the thing that got me to wake up.

  I’ve always been a practical person.

  Women do stupid crap all the time in the name of love.

  But that wasn’t why I stayed.

  Rick’s bank account meant more to me than anything else.

  Call me shallow all you want.

  Money is powerful. Never lies. Never passes on diseases.

  Never beats you.

  I know that in my head.

  But my heart?

  It’s been aching more and more. Especially being around Cobie and Griffin who act like the Couple of the Year all the time. I’ve seen the way Griffin cares for my best friend and I…

  I’m jealous.

  Okay?

  The girl who swore she’d never entertain love is jealous.

  I swallow past the lump in my throat.

  “Don’t mind me.” I whisk my hand. “I’ll just be in my room. Keep going.”

  Cobie paws at her boyfriend’s chest and rises from the couch. Her dress tumbles around her thighs as she strolls toward me. Slender hands tangle in her hair, foolishly trying to bring some order to the crazy mass of curls that Griffin has successfully knotted into a comb’s worst nightmare.

  “Long day?” she asks.

  “There was a leak in the pipe at the bakery. I just called the plumber. It’ll cost an arm and a leg to fix.”

  Cobie gasps. “No way.”

  I shrug, trying to look like I don’t care, but I know Cobie can sense the worry i
n my eyes. She wraps slender arms around her waist. Digs her teeth into her bottom lip. Glances at Griffin.

  As if activated by her gaze, he springs from the couch. “Maybe it’s not that bad.”

  Cobie nods. “Try for a second opinion. You could be getting suckered.”

  Griffin pulls out his phone. “I’ll call Ollie.”

  “He owns a gym.” I snort. “What does he know about plumbing?”

  “He renovated that place all by himself and did some of the pipe work too. I’m sure he’s got a basic grasp.”

  I hesitate.

  Cobie smiles. “It can’t hurt.”

  I glance away, feeling that familiar discomfort that always assaults me whenever I think about the man with dark blonde hair and blue eyes.

  Ollie and I… don’t get along. He’s never said it outright, but I can sense when I’m being judged.

  Tightened lips.

  Fake smiles.

  Shuttered gazes.

  It’s clear he thinks I’m less-than because of the guys I choose to date. We’ve been playing the part, pretending to get along so our crazy-in-love friends don’t catch on, but we tend to keep our distance.

  And I like it that way.

  The towering hunk with tats and a permanent scowl is way too distracting for my tastes.

  Before I can figure out a way to derail this train, Griffin’s got Ollie on the phone. “Hey, man. I need a favor…”

  His conversation sinks into the background when Cobie touches my arm and asks, “Are you sure that’s all?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Rick hasn’t tried to contact you, has he?”

  “He’s not that stupid.” I jut my chin toward Griffin. “I told him about the beefed up guys waiting to tear him limb from limb. He got the message.” It was my favorite part of our last conversation.

  Watching Rick tremble, fear for his life—the way I did all those times before—damn right it was satisfying.

  “Good.” She smiles.

  Griffin walks back to us. “Ollie says he’ll swing by tomorrow.”

  “You shouldn’t have bothered him.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” Cobie rubs my back. “You just managed to get the bakery on its feet. If you can avoid springing all that money on a leak, it’s a good thing.”

  “I should go. I’ve got a meeting early tomorrow,” Griffin says.

  “Bye, hun.”

  They share a quick smooch.

  Cobie walks him to the door.

  “Later, Griffin.” I nod.

  Griffin nods back. “Put your worries to rest, Chan. Ollie’s gonna fix you up.”

  “You’ve got a lot of confidence in a man who’s not a plumber,” I say.

  “I’ve got confidence in his stubborn streak. Once he sets his mind to something, there’s no stopping him. Trust me. He’ll handle you right.”

  “Um… okay.”

  Why do I get the feeling Griffin’s talking about more than the bakery’s leaking pipe?

  “Enough, hun.” Cobie shoves her boyfriend and closes the door.

  I blink warily. “What was that about?”

  “Nothing.” She glances away. Glances back. “Griff is… trying to set you up with Ollie.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “He’s a nice guy. And he said you were pretty.”

  My heart speeds up despite my effort to remain unaffected. “Ollie said that?”

  “Yeah.” Cobie smirks. “I believe the exact phrase was ‘she’s a freaking goddess’.”

  I thump my chest for misbehaving. “Whatever.”

  “Have you really never thought about him?”

  I lift my chin. Slip my invisible mask on. Answer coldly. “He’s not my type.”

  “Are you kidding?” Cobie counts off on her fingers. “He’s handsome. Kind. Smart. Plus he owns his own business.”

  “A small one.”

  “So what? Your bakery isn’t that huge either.”

  “Which is how I know he’s not making enough.”

  “Are you seriously counting him out because of money?”

  I turn. Walk toward the guest room. Pretend to yawn. “I’m tired.”

  “Chandra—”

  “Not today, Babe.” I clutch my forehead. Close my eyes. Inhale a shuddering breath. “Please.”

  I’m facing the hallway so I can’t see Cobie’s face, but I know exactly what expression she’s wearing right now.

  Eyes narrowed.

  Lips pinched.

  Nostrils flared.

  She’s angry.

  Glaring.

  It’s what she does best.

  I spin back to face her. Calm. Cool. Collected.

  Indifferent.

  That’s my thing.

  “Just say it. I know it’ll burn you up if you don’t.”

  Fisted hands slam against her hips. “After everything that happened, are you still that shallow? You saw the kind of person Rick was. Having money isn’t a personality. It doesn’t give a man character.”

  “You’re right. Thanks, Babe. I’ve seen the light. I’ll date Ollie. Kiss him. Maybe even let him screw me. Then we’ll get married and live in perfect middle-class heaven for a while until we get divorced because we argue too much about my over-spending and his obsessive need to save. Happy?”

  She storms toward me. Brows slanted. Lightning crackling from her eyes. “I don’t care if you get with Ollie or the damn mailman. Just please, for the love of Jon Snow, pick someone who’ll treat you the way you deserve instead of these jerks with deep pockets and giant egos. If your only requirement is money, then it’s no wonder Rick—” She stops. Eyes widen.

  “What? It’s no wonder Rick beat me?”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  I scoff.

  Whirl around.

  Head down the hallway.

  “Chandra, wait.”

  I slam the door closed. Lean my head against it.

  My heart thunders in my chest.

  Regret is there, beside me. Breathing down my neck. I push it away, but it crawls right back.

  My fingers shake. From anger. Embarrassment.

  Does Cobie think I want to be this way?

  I don’t.

  I hate the judgmental stares from people who see me dating older, wealthier guys. I hate the whispers. The gossip.

  I hate the men who only want me for my big tits and nice legs. Hate the faking. The games. The tangled web of lies I have to weave to stroke their egos when no, they’re not very good in bed and not that hung either.

  But it’s what I do.

  It’s who I am.

  It’s what I’ve chosen.

  You’re nothing, girl. My mother’s voice echoes in my head. All you’re good for is that hole between your thighs.

  I push off the door and get ready for bed, shuffling Regret aside so I can get comfortable on the mattress.

  You’re worth nothing, Chandra.

  Mom’s been wrong about a lot of things.

  But in that case, she was right.

  2 Ollie

  I roll my shoulders back. Work out the kinks and knotted muscles that are stiff from crouching below the industrial sink for two hours.

  Heels click against tiles.

  A soft, flowery fragrance wafts around me.

  For a moment, my body stiffens, taunt with nervous energy. I know who’s coming. Know it like a movie I’ve seen a thousand times before. One that never gets boring.

  My eyes lift.

  Fall on her.

  The goddess in fire-hydrant-red heels.

  “Here.” Chandra shoves a glass of water at me. “You must be thirsty.”

  I am now.

  But I keep that thought to myself.

  Wiping the sweat on my forehead with the back of my hand, I accept the offering. “Thanks.”

  “I’m the one who should be saying that. You saved me a fortune.”

  “Problem wasn’t that complicated. It just takes patience.”

&n
bsp; “Of which I have none.” She plays with a lock of her long, black hair. The watch on her dark wrist glistens in the fat beams of sunlight tunneling through the windows. It looks dainty and expensive.

  I set the glass on the counter.

  Inch away from her.

  “You’re all set.” I tug my keys from my back pocket.

  She eyes them. “I have some leftover cupcakes from yesterday.” Her gaze slides up to mine. “You probably won’t accept money as payment—“

  I shake my head so she knows I won’t.

  “So have something sweet before you go.” Chandra points to the front of the bakery that’s cast into shadows.

  I look out to the chairs that are upended around the tall tables. It’s Sunday, but on a regular day, this place would be filled to the brim with customers.

  Hell, if not for the awkwardness between Chandra and I, I’d be one of them. Zania, the baker here, is a prodigy and I’m half-convinced she laces the frosting with cocaine to make it so addicting.

  If it were any other day, with any other woman, I’d crack a hell yeah and stuff my face until I fell into a sugar coma.

  But that tension between Chandra and me…

  Damn it.

  I’d rather not play with fire and this woman is powerful enough to inflict a third-degree burn.

  I turn to her. “Thanks, but I’m busy.”

  “With what?”

  “Stuff.”

  The disbelieving half-smile dawning on her face draws my eyes to her lips. Luscious. Dark pink. Glossy.

  Perfect for kissing.

  And… other things.

  It’s an extremely sexy mouth.