Jealousy

By S. L. Scott

PART 2 of the From the Inside Out serial by New York Times Bestselling Author, S. L. Scott. Scorned is Book 1 in the serial.

We shared a love that regulated every heartbeat and every breath we took. It was all encompassing. I thought our love could withstand time and anything thrown our way.

I was wrong. So wrong.

I used to be happy. I used to be Juliette Weston when Dylan Somers filled my life with promises of love and a happy ever after. But when he took my heart and broke it into a million pieces, I became someone else entirely. In one afternoon, I lost my soul mate. I lost everything I knew myself to be.

Three years later, the man who destroyed me is back.

To assuage his guilt? To finish the job? It doesn't matter... I won't let him this time. I'm stronger. I've moved on. He won't affect me.

This is a story of love and betrayal. Pain and loss. Happiness and fate. It's about finding your true destiny.

This is a continuation of our story.

And it's not for the faint of heart.

• Language: English
• Publisher: S. L. Scott
• Release date: Sep 8, 2014
• ISBN: 9781940071206

S. L. Scott

New York Times and USA Bestselling Author, S. L. Scott, was always interested in the arts. She grew up painting, writing poetry and short stories, and wiling her days away lost in a good book and the movies. With a degree in Journalism, she continued her love of the written word by reading American authors like Salinger and Fitzgerald. She was intrigued by their flawed characters living in picture perfect worlds, but could still debate that the worlds those characters lived in were actually the flawed ones. This dynamic of leaving the reader invested in the words, inspired Scott to start writing with emotion while interjecting an underlying passion into her own stories. Living in the capital of Texas with her family, Scott loves traveling and avocados, beaches, and cooking with her kids. She's obsessed with epic romances and loves a good plot twist. She dreams of seeing one of her own books made into a movie one day as well as returning to Europe. Her favorite color is blue, but she likens it more toward the sky than the emotion. Her home is filled with the welcoming symbol of the pineapple and finds surfing a challenge though she likes to think she's a pro.

Book preview

From the Inside Out—Jealousy

First Edition

Copyright © S. L. Scott 2014

The right of S.L. Scott to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her under the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000

This work is copyright. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced, copied, scanned, stored in a retrieval system, recorded or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

ISBN: 978-1-940071-20-6

Cover design: Melissa Ringuette

Cover Image: Coka

Interior Design: Angela McLaurin, Fictional Formats

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Dedicated to my amazing readers.

MY PHONE FLASHES with a missed call as soon as I turn it back on. I had turned it off while visiting with Jean-Luc, wanting to check on his progress for his upcoming show in two months.

You look different, beautiful Jules. Jean-Luc is very intuitive. I’ve always liked that about him. He noticed the change in me as soon as I walked into his loft.

How so? I ask whimsically, a small smile forming on my lips as I walk around the large space.

Your aura has shifted. You seem happy.

I laugh, then scoff at the notion. These windows need to be cleaned. You need to let some sunshine in.

His body warms my backside, his chest to my back. The smell of oil-based paint mixed with a hint of cleaner and his sweat, fills the air around us, stronger than my perfume. The rough skin of his hand runs down my arm. His lips are at my ear as he presses his bare chest against my shoulders, only a tiny dress strap between us. I like you better sullen and hard to get. Aloof is sexy when you do it.

I never purposely act aloof. Sullen maybe, mainly miserable. That’s what I was going for. I guess I failed. I’m reevaluating my whole emo image as we speak, I deadpan. It’s easier to play along with his dramatics. He’s an amazing painter when he’s riled up.

Emo, he repeats, chuckling, his breath hitting my neck. Yes, emo and sunshine don’t go well together.

Changing.

Don’t, he whispers. Don’t let someone change you, who you are. You’re perfect, always, delicate and perfect to me.

I turn slowly around, our chests now touching, no professional space remaining between us. I lean forward toward his ear, cheek to cheek, and whisper, We’re perfect as we are. Let’s not change this, the distance we keep works better than the reality ever could. I kiss him lightly on the cheek, then take a step back. Thank you for accepting me how I am.

Backing away from me with a smirk on his face and a paintbrush in hand, he points it accusingly in my direction. You’ve met someone. Tell me, Jules, does he let you have your quiet moments? Does he let you thrive in your sadness and love you regardless?

I roll my eyes. You’re such an artist. Not everything has to be so extreme. Sometimes things happen that mess with the flow and then you come to realize that everything flows better than it did before the change.

So I’m right. Just tell me he’s opposite of me. Lie to me if you have to. You’re good at lying. Convince me that my hope being dashed is purely because he offered you something I couldn’t.

He’s nothing like you. I tell him the truth, though it would be easy to fall for Jean-Luc if I let myself. He’s very sexy in his own way. He has great eyes, or maybe it’s just the way he looks at me that I find so appealing. He won’t destroy me or drag me to the dark places to wallow, the places you like to frequent.

He’s painting, his back to me, solid black on the canvas. He glances at me over his shoulder as if he’s studying me for the lies, or the truth, to see if he can figure me out. He’s always seen me clearer than most. We’re similar, or were. I’m not sure today. Stay true to your heart, beautiful Jules.

I nod, but he doesn’t see.

I listen to my voicemail in the back of the taxi while returning to the city from the borough where Jean-Luc lives. Hearing Austin’s voice makes me smile. I’m in Paris. Six hours separates us by plane. Five hours on the clock. I don’t like it, Austin says with a laugh. I want to be on the same continent. I don’t know. He sounds embarrassed for admitting his feelings. I just want to be near you again. Feel free to put out a restraining order on me for this fucked up stalker sounding voicemail. I laugh to myself as I continue listening to him. I miss you. Is it too early in our relationship to say that? You know, I’m just gonna hang up now. It’ll be safer for the both of us if I do. We’ll talk soon. Call me or I can call you again or email, text, pigeon carrier. This is why I need to hang up now. I suck at this. Goodbye, Jules.

I disconnect, smiling and hold the phone to my chest. He’s so sweet and funny. He warms me on the inside, not from embarrassment or lust, but from happiness, pure unadulterated happiness.

When I return to the gallery, I find a bouquet of gerbera daisies in all different colors arranged in a vase that I recognize instantly as a Boda. The purple and orange colors of the vase are beautiful and highlight the flowers. The glass appears to flow boundless, which always intrigued me about the artist. Austin sure knows how to woo a woman.

Smiling, I anxiously pull the card and read: I missed you. I still miss you.

I call him, not caring about the cost of the call or the late hour in France. I just want to talk to him. He always makes me smile and it grows when he answers, Bonjour, Mademoiselle Weston. This is a pleasant surprise.

Bonjour, Monsieur.

Tres bien, Jules.

"Austin, I miss you too.