Fighting to Find Yourself

By Marilu Milligan

Plain Jane, Elizabeth "Libby" Mitchell journeyed out into the cold November rain in search of a good book and a cup of hot chocolate, hoping to lose herself. Instead, she ended up finding Luke.

Lucas Jensen, lead singer in one of the hottest rock bands to come out of Los Angeles in a long time, is known for his affliction for anything blond, thin and beautiful. Until he sees Libby.

From the start, Libby has a hard time believing that Luke could be interested in her. She's none of the things he seems to be attracted to, but that doesn't stop him from pursuing her.

Their relationship is full of ups and downs, one battle after another. Libby is convinced that they could never be together. It's up to Luke to prove her wrong. Neither of them counted on falling in love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Marilu Milligan
• Release date: Jul 17, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476450056

Marilu Milligan

Marilu is a southern girl, born and bred. She makes her home in Georgia with her husband and high school sweetheart, Nathan, and their two children, Madison and Austin. An avid reader, she decided to try her hand at writing the stories she's adored for so long. She's been hooked ever since....

Book preview

Chapter One

It was colder than normal in Los Angeles on that Saturday in November. Add the rain to it and it was almost too miserable to leave the house. That didn't stop Elizabeth Mitchell from venturing out, though.

She found herself needing the fresh air, a change of scenery, even if it was cold and rainy. She was tired of looking at the inside of her house, the bare walls that had yet to be decorated. Even though she'd been there over a year, the place was almost empty. She never had the time to shop because she was working so much.

She spent everyday either cooped up in an office building or sitting in her home office working on the accounts she took home with her at night. She thought if she busted her ass now, she would be rewarded for it later. Her hard work would pay off in the end.

She'd been working longer hours as of late, hoping to secure the promotion she'd been promised. After two years of working in a cubicle it looked as if she may finally get her own office. It's what she'd been working toward since she graduated college. A good job at a prestigious publishing company.

Even though she had a good job that paid a decent wage, she wanted more. She had bills to pay, a mortgage, a car payment. Not to mention the outrageous student loans that she would be paying off forever. She wanted to do it on her own, without any help. Because of that, money was tight.

She lived comfortably. She had everything she needed, but she didn't spend money just to be spending it. A day on the town to her was a trip to the supermarket, picking up dry cleaning, running errands. Everyday was spent in a monotonous routine and she was tired of it.

Today, she was forgoing her normal routine to do something she wanted to do. Something that cost next to nothing. Nothing except the price of a few paperbacks.

She pulled her jacket tight around her and slipped the hood over her head before she stepped from her car. She ran through the rain and hurried into her favorite bookstore that was also her favorite coffeehouse. Shrugging out of her jacket, she hung it on the hook by the door. The familiar smells of coffee and chocolate assailed her.

This place always made her feel better. It was better than going to the library because there were less teenagers and the place served her poison. She could spend the whole day getting lost in there. Bypassing row after row of books, she headed toward the counter in the back.

Hey, Bailey, she greeted the young girl waiting to take her order. I'd like a large hot chocolate for now. Maybe something else later. Was it bad that she was on a first name basis with the girl at the counter? As she watched Bailey splash the hot milk into her cup, she reached into her pocket for her wallet. Coming up empty, she realized that she left it in the car. That was just great. Now she'd have to run back through the rain. Crap, she mumbled to herself, fishing her keys from her jeans pocket. Bailey, I'll be right back. I left my wallet in the car.

When she turned, she collided with the guy standing behind her. He grasped her upper arms in an attempt to hold her steady. His grip was firm, almost bruising. She'd knocked into him hard. He hadn't even budged.  He was a big guy, tall and lean. He made her feel small.

Oh, I'm sorry, she said immediately. I didn't know you were behind me. She took in his appearance. Hooded sweatshirt, blue jeans, scruffy sneakers. He was wearing dark sunglasses, even though it was raining. He looked kind of scruffy, like he was in need of a good shave, his long dark hair was hanging around his face.

It's okay. He looked down at the floor and dropped his hands to his sides. You left your wallet? he asked from behind his glasses.

Yeah, in the car. I just have to go get it. She started to step around him, but he put out his hand to stop her.

It's raining pretty hard out there. Let me take care of it. His voice was low and husky. Almost melodic. You shouldn't go back out in that right now. You'll catch cold.

That's very kind of you. But I prefer to pay for my own. She certainly didn't want a guy who wouldn't even look at her pay for her drink. Thanks anyway.

He chuckled softly and glanced up at her from under the hood pulled close around his face. It's just hot chocolate, right? And if you want, you can pay me back as soon as it stops raining.

Maybe it was his voice or the sound of his laugh. Maybe it was his beautiful smile, the flash of his perfect white teeth. Maybe it was because he said she could pay him back. Maybe it was that he did look up at her. She didn't know what prompted her to agree.

She hesitated for a second, then found herself saying, Alright. Only if you let me pay you back.

His smile grew wider as he said, In fact, I insist that you pay me back now. The stranger stepped up to the counter and ordered himself a large hot chocolate. He paid for both his and hers, then turned to place the Styrofoam cup in her hand. He picked up his own and walked away.

Wait, she called out to his retreating back. Don't leave. How will I pay you back if you aren't here?

He stopped and looked over his shoulder at her, his eyes hidden from view. You'll pay me back. Don't worry, I'll find you before I leave. He disappeared down one of the aisles before she could say anything else.

For what seemed like hours, she browsed the shelves. She stopped every few feet to pick up a book and read the back cover. After she selected several to take home with her, she turned and headed toward the cash register in the front. She almost bumped into the same guy again as she rounded the corner.

You're dangerous, he told her, straightening the stack of books in her arms before they fell. You should watch where you're going. I bet you get hurt a lot.

She couldn't tell if he was joking or not. She hoped that he was. I'm sorry, she said, smiling. I promise you're the only guy I've tried to run down lately. Twice in one day is a record for me. It must be you.

He ducked his head again, shielding his face from her. Me? It's not my fault you're clumsy. Unless you're trying to get my attention.

She'd been joking, but he seemed to take offense to it. I don't even know you.

He looked back up at her, but she couldn't read his expression. She wished he'd take those damned glasses off. Who wore glasses inside anyway? Was he hiding out or something?

You don't know me? he asked, skeptically. Like he didn't believe her.

No. Why would I know you. I've never met you before a few hours ago. She was starting to think the guy was on something. Look, let me go get my wallet and I'll pay you for that drink.

He reached up and pulled his sunglasses off to reveal the most beautiful blue eyes she'd ever seen. He smirked at her and asked, You still don't know who I am?

What's with you. I already told you I didn't. She was getting ready to put her books down and leave.

Let me buy you lunch. She stared at him like he was insane, causing him to laugh out loud. Would it help if I introduced myself?

Dude, you're crazy. He wanted her to go to lunch with him and he kept hinting that she should know him when she was sure she'd never met him before.

My name is Lucas. You can call me Luke if you like. That's what my friends call me. He held out his hand to her, grinning from ear to ear.

She took it, somewhat hesitantly. As he gripped her hand tightly in his, she looked closely at his face. She recognized him from somewhere, but she couldn't quite place him. Luke?

That's me. He shrugged. So, lunch? And it would be nice to get a name.

Well, Luke, I'm Elizabeth. My friends call me Libby. And I don't think lunch is such a good idea. She just wanted to give him what she owed and get away from him.

Why not? He slipped his glasses back onto his face. You owe me for the drink. I don't want your money. I'd rather have lunch with you, Libby. His smile grew wider. Say yes, you know you want to. I don't bite.

She pulled her hand free and placed it back on top of the books stacked in her arms. His crooked smile unnerved her. She shuffled from one foot to the other. Look, Luke, I said I don't know you. I've never seen you before in my life. Why would I have lunch with you?

Because I want you to? He took a step closer to her and leaned in. Say yes.

As tempted as she was, she shook her head no and headed for the counter, ignoring him as he called her name, trailing along behind her.

Chapter Two

For a solid week, Libby yelled at herself for turning down his offer. Why hadn't she just said yes? What would it have hurt? Here was this guy interested in her, wanting to take her to lunch and she'd turned him down flat. It wasn't as if she had guys banging down her door to take her out.

He hadn't given up easily, either. He'd tried very hard to convince her to share a meal with him. He hadn't let her pay him back, either. He told her not to worry, she'd get her chance. It seemed very doubtful, though.

One week to the day, she found herself heading back to the bookstore with the hope that maybe, just maybe, he'd show. She kept telling herself that she just wanted to pay him back. How was she going to do that if she didn't know how to reach him?

She parked her car at the curb and checked to make sure she had her wallet in her pocket before she got out. She dropped her keys into her other pocket and stood aside as some of the customers exited the store. Stepping inside, her eyes traveled around the room. She was disappointed when he wasn't there.

Of course he wasn't there. She chided herself on being foolish for thinking he would be. Obviously she'd blown her chance.

Sighing loudly, she made her way to the back counter. She was here now, she may as well get her drink and look around. Even if she'd bought more books than she'd intended to last week.

A hot chocolate sounded good anyway. She got to the end of the line and pulled her phone out to check her emails. With four people in front of her, it would be a minute.

As the line moved up, she absently stepped forward. She knew that people were lining up behind her, but she didn't pay much attention. She quickly typed a reply to her boss' email, then stepped up to the counter.

Good morning, Bailey. The usual, please. She propped her arms on the counter, still holding her phone in her hand.

Double that order. She lowered her head and smiled to herself when she heard that voice in her ear. The feel of his hand on her shoulder and his chest pressed against her back gave her pause. She automatically tensed.

When she glanced over her shoulder, she found herself nose to nose with the reason she came. She could see her eyes reflected in his glasses. Excuse me. Personal space, please?

He grinned widely from under his baseball cap, flashing those perfect teeth at her. Am I making you uncomfortable, Libby? He put some space between their bodies. He didn't move his hand.

I don't know you, Luke. Smiling back at him, she said, It usually takes a few dates before I get that close. She didn't mean for it to sound like she was flirting, but that's exactly how he took it.

If you hadn't turned down my offer last time, this would be our second date. He leaned closer and whispered in her ear. You know it's inevitable. You should just accept it.

Bailey placed their order on the counter preventing her from responding. Luke picked up both cups and took off across the room to a table in the far corner. She had no choice but to pay for them both. She grabbed her change and followed him across the room.

He stood until she got to him and pulled her chair out for her. She sat and waited until he took his seat. Are you saying this is a date? Because I don't remember you asking me to meet you here.

I didn't get your number or else I would have. He took his glasses off and sat them on the table. He pulled out his cell phone and looked at her expectantly.

You want my number? She was starting to feel like she'd stepped into an alternate universe or something. Are you kidding me?

Why would I kid about that? He raised his brow and continued to wait.

Because. Under normal circumstances, guys never asked for her number. She was supposed to believe that this cute guy would want her number? It's strange, that's all.

I don't understand. How is it strange? He laid his phone on the table and laced his fingers together in front of him. I'm not supposed to be interested in you?

Before she could answer him, she heard, Lucas Jensen?

Turning her head sharply to look at the girl standing next to their table, Libby's eyes widened as she took in the name. Her gaze traveled back to his, catching his amused smirk. She slowly shook her head as she realized who he was. It all made sense now.

As Luke, aka Lucas Jensen, lead singer of one of the hottest rock bands on the scene these days, signed an autograph for the girl who had interrupted them, she chuckled. No wonder he kept asking her if she knew who he was. Of course she knew who he was. Just about anyone with a pulse knew who he was. She just hadn't recognized him in all his scruffiness.

After the girl wandered off with a smile, he turned back to her. Tell me why it's strange that I'm interested in you.

She shook her head in confusion. Are you? Interested in me?

Is it that hard to believe? Picking up his cup, he took a sip. When I see something I want, I go after it.

Wow. She picked up her own cup and moved it to her lips. This was unbelievable. Did he just say he wanted her?

She couldn't deny that she'd put a little more effort in her appearance today than last week. Gone were the jeans and sweatshirt. In their place were slacks and a sweater. Instead of her sneakers, she was wearing boots. Her hair was down and her makeup was on. She wanted to look nice if she did run into him.

You can stop, Luke. I already paid you back, she said, motioning toward his cup.

Ah. I get it now. You don't think someone like me would be interested in you. He leaned back in his seat and sipped his drink again. I'll prove you wrong. You just have to give me the chance.

Could he be sincere? He seemed to be. What do you mean by that?

He leaned forward, closing the space between them over the tiny table. Look, I'll be honest with you. That's one thing you can always count on from me. I don't do relationships, I don't have the time. You intrigue me and I want to get to know you better. Eventually, you'll have sex with me. So give me your number.

She leaned toward him, their faces almost touching. Just like that? You think I'm going to sleep with you? You're mighty sure of yourself.

Libby, I have no interest in sleeping with you. In fact, that is the farthest thing from my mind. He reached up and trailed his finger across her cheek. I don't think you're ready to hear what I want to do with you. I can tell that you're a nice girl. I don't want to scare you off.

He couldn't have said it any plainer than that. If he was trying to shock her, he'd succeeded. She sat back, moving away from him and held up her phone. Give me your number and I'll call you.

He smirked, You'll call me? How will I know it's you. I want your number.

Before she could regret it, she called it out to him. Now yours.

He reached across and took her phone, punching his number in and saving it. I'll wait for you to call me, Libby. Don't wait too long, though. I'm not very patient. He handed it back to her and smiled.

She bit her lip and studied his face. He seemed pleased with himself. She knew then that she would be powerless against his charm. She'd probably do anything he asked her to.

They sat staring at each other across that little table for a few moments. Long enough for her to start fidgeting nervously in her seat. She tucked her hair behind her ear and dropped her gaze to the cup in her hand. With her head down, she missed the way he was studying her.

This is weird, she mumbled. Of all the people that she could have ran into, it had to be him.

Not really, he replied, chuckling. When her eyes moved back up to his, he smiled. Call it fate.

Before she could reply, his phone rang, drawing his attention. He let it ring as he got up from the table. I've got to go, he told her, moving closer.

You just got here, she said, in disbelief.

No, you just got here. I've been waiting on you for over an hour. He bent to kiss her cheek. Straightening, he said, I'll be waiting, Libby. See ya', soon. Then he was gone.

Chapter Three

A week went by, then two and Libby still refused to believe that the events in the bookstore had even taken place. She had to have been dreaming. There was no way someone as attractive, as talented, as famous as he could be interested in plain, slightly overweight, nerdy Elizabeth Mitchell. It just didn't happen.

She'd left out of there that day shell-shocked. Not only had he called their not so chance meeting a date, he'd basically told her he wanted to have sex with her, then preceded to key his number into her phone. Things like that just didn't happen to people like her.

If there was even one thing he was lacking, it wasn't self-confidence. He was so damned sure of himself. He could probably get any girl he wanted. Why had he chosen her? It didn't make sense. 

She'd pulled his number up several times and just stared at the display. In the middle of the day, she found herself taking it out of her purse and looking at it. That alone was the proof that it had happened. She found herself wanting to call him all the time. Just to see if the number was really his was what she kept telling herself. It probably wasn't his. She was sure it was bogus.

Why would someone like him want to be with someone like her? What was the attraction? She just couldn't see it.

She knew that he had been with lots of girls. She'd seen it all over the internet. And not just any girls. Actresses, models, singers, reality stars. She'd seen the pictures, read the stories. She didn't compare to any of them.

She was chubby, untalented and shy. Her hair was brown, forever straight, hanging lifelessly down her back. Her eyes were brown, her lips were too thin, her nose too big. She wasn't one to ever stand out. She was just plain Libby.

She'd been so shy and withdrawn growing up. She had preferred to stay to herself, unlike her older sibling, who'd been pretty and popular. Where her sister, Rachel, went out and partied, dating a different guy every few months, Libby had stayed home and studied. She'd never had a real boyfriend or even dated until college.

The only guy she'd ever even slept with had been her boyfriend for almost six months before it happened. That relationship lasted until she graduated college. He'd broken up with her when he decided to move back home to New Jersey. She'd never been in love with him and the sex really wasn't that great, so she let him go without a fight.

Given her lack of sexual experience, she couldn't believe what she was thinking. She was actually considering calling Mr. Jensen just to see if he was serious. And if he was, what would she do then? Would she sleep with him?

She flopped down on her sofa and propped her sock-clad feet onto the coffee table. She laughed as she thought about how pathetic she seemed. It was Saturday night. She was dressed in yoga pants and a t shirt, no bra, sitting in her living room debating on whether or not the phone number this well-known rock star had given her was real. And, to make matters worse, she was contemplating whether or not to call him and ask if he wanted to come over.

Yeah, right, Libby. He was only fucking with you, she said aloud to herself. Why would he even give you a second thought?

Deciding that she really was leading a sad existence, she got up from the sofa and dropped her phone onto the coffee table. She was tired of holding it in her hand. She padded softly into the kitchen and pulled a bag of microwave popcorn from the pantry. She started it, washed her hands, then grabbed herself a soda.

Maybe she'd watch TV. There had to be something on TV that would take her mind off of him. Since she couldn't make herself call him, she would just have to put him from her mind. It was probably for the best anyway. She grabbed her snack and headed back to the sofa.

She'd just gotten into one of those true crime shows where they find out who the killer was when her phone vibrated on the table. She placed her bowl at her feet and reached to pick it up. One look at the display had her snapping to attention. She swung her legs to the floor, knocking popcorn everywhere. She grabbed the remote and paused the TV.

She read the text message. I'm tired of waiting. Call me. ~L.

Holy shit, she said, clutching the phone in her hand. She couldn't call him. She wasn't ready to call him.

What would she even say? Come on over, I'll sleep with you? Because she had no doubt that's what would happen. If she did see him again, she'd end up in bed with him.

She reread it just to make sure she wasn't imagining it. As she sat there looking at him on the screen, the phone vibrated in her hands again. Libby?

She didn't know what to do. She couldn't see him tonight. She was a mess. She'd have to shower, change, fix her hair, do her makeup.

After a few more minutes staring at the TV screen, she got up and started fishing popcorn out of the cushions. She was on her hands and knees in front of the coffee table when her phone started ringing. She hit the ignore button and continued to hunt for the little white kernels she'd strewn everywhere.

It immediately started ringing again. She got to her knees and took a deep breath before she moved the phone to her ear. Hello?

I knew you were ignoring me, were the first words out of his mouth. Are you home?

That set off a string of one word sentences from both of them. Yes. Alone? Yes. Why? Because. Because? Libby. Luke.

Give me your address. No, no, no. This wasn't happening.

You can't come over here, she exclaimed, drawing a chuckle from the phone.

Why not? You said you were alone. She was, but that was beside the point.

Because you can't. She listened to the silence on the other end, thinking he may have hung up. What the hell was wrong with her? If she didn't see him, then she'd never know if it was real or not. Was she willing to give up that chance? Luke?

Yeah, Libby? So he hadn't hung up.

After a brief hesitation, she rattled off her address and ended the call before she could change her mind. She hurriedly swept the rest of the popcorn into her hand and dumped it into the bowl. She didn't know how long she had before he showed up, but she was certain he would.

She'd broken the land speed record getting to her bedroom and into her bathroom. She really was a mess. She forced herself to calm down. She took a few deep, steadying breaths, then she looked at herself in the mirror and groaned. This was ridiculous. She doubted she'd have the time to shower before he got there and she didn't want him to think she was primping for him or anything, so she brushed her hair out before pulling it into a decent looking ponytail. It would have to do.

She glanced down at her shirt and realized that, not only was it stained and ratty, but she wasn't wearing a bra underneath and you could definitely see the dark outline of her nipples through it. He couldn't see her like this. She'd have to change. Oh my god, she thought, as she snatched her old t shirt over her head and reached for the bra laying on the counter in front of her.

She hurried back into her bedroom and over to her closest, rummaging through the t shirts until she found one that was neither stained nor had holes in it. She quickly pulled it over her head. She was pulling her pants over her hips when the doorbell rang.

Shit! she muttered to herself, pulling her pants back up. There was no way he was already there. It hadn't even been fifteen minutes.

She glanced in the mirror one last time before heading back down the stairs to her front door. Here goes nothing, she thought, as she pulled the door open. Hi, she said, to the hooded figure standing on her front doorsteps. She was surprised to see that he wasn't wearing sunglasses.

Hey, he said, brushing against her as he stepped inside.

She'd have to talk to him about this personal space thing. He always seemed to be invading hers and it made her uncomfortable. He could have at least waited until she had moved aside.

Oh, well, come right on in, she said rather sarcastically.

It's cold out there, he tossed over his shoulder as he started down the hallway toward her living room, not waiting for her to follow.

As he walked away, she took note of his appearance. She was glad she hadn't went to any effort for him because obviously he wasn't dressed to impress. He was wearing track pants, the legs unzipped, the same black hoodie he'd had on the day they met, and sneakers. She padded after him slowly, shaking her head.

He acted like he'd been to her place a hundred times before. He dropped his keys and his phone onto the coffee table. He unzipped his hoodie, then shrugged out of it, tossing it onto the back of the sofa.

The first thing she noticed was his hair pulled into a messy bun at the nape of his neck. His beard was even thicker than the last time she'd seen him. His t shirt was in worse shape than any of the ones she'd bypassed in her closet. He looked very scruffy. It wasn't a bad look on him.

As she studied him, he stared right back at her. When her eyes returned to his face, she saw his smile. Movie night? he smirked, motioning toward the TV with his head.

She glanced at the picture paused on the screen. No, I was just watching CSI whatever-town-they're-in, she said.

Mind if I watch with you? he asked, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

We can watch something if you like. This one is going off. She stepped around him and picked up the bowl of lint covered popcorn. Would you like something to drink? I'm gonna make some more popcorn.

A water would be nice, he said, following her to the kitchen. Why are you making more popcorn? He sat down at her breakfast bar, propping his elbows on the counter and linking his hands together as he watched her work.

Because I spilled this all over the floor. She didn't plan to elaborate further.

She reached into the refrigerator, grabbing him a bottle of water. She handed it to him before she pulled a clean bowl from the cabinet as she waited for the microwave to finish.

This felt so weird to her. She didn't really even know him and here he was making himself at home in her house. Sure, she knew who he was. She knew quite a lot about him, actually, considering that he was the lead singer in one of the most popular bands out of LA, but she didn't know him personally.

Add that to the fact that she'd never, ever, had a guy over at her place before. She very rarely dated and when she did, she came home alone at the end of the night. She didn't and hadn't ever slept around. There was no point in inviting someone home with her.

She caught him staring at her when she looked up. What? she asked, when his lips curled into a smile.

Nothing. I was just checking you out. All scrubbed clean and comfortable. Cute. He propped his chin onto his fist and continued to watch her.

Well, it wasn't like I was planning to go out and I sure wasn't expecting company. She ignored the cute part. She definitely wasn't cute. She moved toward the microwave when it beeped.

You look great, he said, Perfect to cuddle up on the couch with.

Shut up. She turned away from him as her face heated. Pouring the popcorn into the bowl, she said, We aren't going to cuddle up on the couch.

We'll see, he taunted, openly smirking at her. The night's young. You never know what might happen.

She rolled her eyes and chuckled as she passed him on the way back to the living room. He got up to follow. When she sat down in the corner of the sofa, he sat on the cushion right beside her. He made her six foot long sofa suddenly seem small.

She sat the popcorn down on the table in front of her and turned to face him. Luke, none of this seems strange to you?

What? he asked, not having a clue what she meant.

All this. You just met me a few weeks ago. You don't even know anything about me and here you are sitting on my sofa acting like you've known me for ages. She crossed her arms over her chest and continued. Yeah, I know who you are. But you don't know me. I could be a crazy serial killer or something.

He grinned at her and shrugged. I may have asked a few questions about you. When her eyes widened, his grin grew larger. As if sharing a secret with her, he leaned close and whispered loudly, Your friend Bailey likes to talk. You probably shouldn't tell her so much about yourself.

What could Bailey possibly have told him? What's that supposed to mean?

He pulled an innocent face, pursing his lips, Has it really been over a year since you had sex?

You asked her about my sex life? What the hell is wrong with you, Jensen? Seriously? Is that something you ask a total stranger about another total stranger? He had issues.

He dropped his head back against the cushion and snorted. Relax. I didn't ask her about your sex life, or lack there of in this case. I asked if you were seeing anyone and she said she didn't think so. She said that she knew your last serious relationship was over a year ago. She told me that you weren't the type to sleep around.

He leaned forward and picked up the remote control, hitting the play button. As the detective named the murderer, he snagged the popcorn and sat it in his lap. She watched him with her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide. He was definitely making himself at home. He started tossing popcorn in his mouth as he stared at the screen.

Are you gonna sit there staring at me, he pointed to the TV, or are you gonna finish watching your show?

This is nuts. I can't believe this is really happening. She faced forward