Just MayBe...

By Marilyn Faith

***REVISED AND EDITED***

WARNING: Sexual content and strong language. Recommended for 18+

Girl is from the wrong side of town.
She struggles to move forward from the disappointments in her life.
And she wants the guy who's life is already planned out for him.

Boy is from a prominent family, who has his own struggles.
But he wants the girl who is forbidden to him.

Will girl and boy find their way to each other,
and have their happily ever after?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Marilyn Faith
• Release date: Aug 2, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310431036

Book preview

JUST MAYBE

BY

Marilyn Faith

Copyright © 2014 Marilyn Faith

All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher or author. This constitutes unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. Thank you for your support of authors’ rights. FBI Anti-Piracy Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years’ imprisonment and a fine of $250,000. This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, locales or events, is entirely coincidental.

Edited by: SJ Lynn

Proofreader by: Emma Mack

Cover Designer: MajorLeague S.O.M

(Cover images Dollar Photo Club)

Dedication

To finding hope in the midst of chaos,

To standing tall when expected to fold,

To not giving up and following your dreams.

Table of Contents

Chapter1-Evelyn

Chapter2-Ryan

Chapter3-Evelyn

Chapter4-Evelyn

Chapter5-Ryan

Chapter6-Evelyn

Chapter7-Ryan

Chapter8-Evelyn

Chapter9-Ryan

Chapter10-Evelyn

Chapter11-Evelyn

Chapter12-Ryan

Chapter13-Evelyn

Chapter14-Evelyn

Chapter15-Evelyn

Chapter16-Ryan

Chapter17-Evelyn

Chapter18-Ryan

Chapter19-Evelyn

Chapter20-Ryan

Chapter21-Evelyn

Chapter22-Ryan

Chapter23-Evelyn

Chapter24-Ryan

When?

When is love going to find me?

When am I going to find the one who sends electrical surges throughout my body when he touches me?

When am I going to meet the one who makes my insides melt when he looks at me?

The one who makes my heart pound violently against my rib cage when he kisses me?

The one who takes time to know me and loves me for me?

When am I going to meet the one who makes me nervous when he’s around?

The one who makes me feel whole?

The one who I could give my heart to have and to hold,

knowing he would take care of it?

When am I going to meet the one I can’t live without?

The one who knows when it’s time to hold me?

I know God is writing my love story, but I can’t help growing impatient.

As the days pass by, I feel empty.

When am I going to meet the one who makes me feel whole?

The one who completes me?

Only time will tell.

Leah O.

Chapter One

Evelyn

I open my eyes to the early morning sun peeking out of the blue sky. The birds are singing a happy tune, and it’s at odds with my current mood. I feel like crap. Last night at the country club where I work, we were short-staffed on one of our busiest nights of the week. Every day is different. Some days are better than others. Good days or bad, however, I try to press through—especially on the dim ones. Today just feels like it’s going to be a repeat of last night’s fiasco. I pray I’m wrong.

I’ve worked there for three years now, trying to save up money for college. Why don’t I find something else I like better? His name is Ryan, Ryan Knight. I’ve had a crush on him since the very first day I saw him three years ago, and he was sitting outside on the balcony with his friends. He was the most gorgeous, beautiful, sexy specimen of a man my eyes had ever beheld. He was bare chested, and I could see his perfect athletic build, not overly muscular, with a six-pack I found myself wanting to run my lips over. He also had that just-got-outta-bed sexy, dark hair, perfect straight white teeth, and the sexiest dimples known to man. God, when he smiles. His long lashes adorned the most intense blue eyes, reading all the secrets I had buried deep down inside my soul. I was staring, unable to help myself. His presence oozed confidence, and from the way he looked at me, I got the feeling he knew I was affected by him too. I swear; if I touched my mouth right now, there would be drool running down it. I remember one of the guys who worked at the country club during that time saying, You might wanna close that mouth of yours before you catch a bug. Also, word to the wise, leave that one alone. He’s the prince around here.

I learned rather quickly that Ryan, the Prince of Highland Park, was rich and spoiled by all accounts. Of course, he’s not really a prince, but he holds a certain sway around here. Money, good looks, and charm has its advantages. Then there’s me, the pauperess from the other side of town. The nagging, rational parts of my brain told me to ‘Keep it moving’.

I don’t get to see Ryan as often during the year when he’s away at Yale, but I see him plenty during the summer months when he’s home. During those all too brief months, I cram in as many hours as I can get from the club, just so I can see him.

I was his secret shadow. I’d watch him as he sat by the pool, went for a swim, or walked to the shower. Depending on my schedule, I’d watch him having breakfast, lunch, or dinner. I’d even watch him with his girlfriends. Yes, I know. I was stalking him a bit, but I couldn’t help myself.

A pang of envy always strikes when it dawns on me that watching him from afar is all I’ll ever get. Sometimes I would entertain the idea of him choosing me for once. I still do.

Ryan and I don’t talk much, except for a few Hi and Bye exchanges, but I have caught him watching me a couple of times while I worked. I’d like to think it’s because he was finally noticing me, but more than likely, it was due to wondering why this crazy girl was always watching him.

Kevin, my brother, used to say I couldn’t keep a secret to save my life because my face would always give me away. I can only imagine what secrets my facial expressions convey to others when they catch me staring at Ryan. I’m sure it’s something like, ‘I love you, Ryan,’ or ‘Take me, Ryan, take me now.’ One girl at work did comment once, He’s gorgeous and rich honey. Don’t even bother. He’ll never be into the likes of you. I just nodded in agreement, convinced what she said was true. If they had any idea how much I thought about him, they’d slap me upside my head. Maybe it’s crazy to fantasize about him the way I do, but no harm comes from dreaming, right?

I’m at work now and so far, my workday hasn’t turned out to be too taxing as I watch Ryan exiting the pool, all wet, water glistening off that perfectly chiseled body of his. He’s with one of his many groupies, yet I still can’t look away. His arms are wrapped around her waist as he whispers into her ear. I suspect he’s saying something carnal, for the reason she’s rubbing up against him in that seductive manner. She giggles, snapping me out of my stupor, only to realize he’s looking at me. Sam, the girl that’s all over him, continues to laugh and peer over at me making me wonder if he’s saying something about me, and if it’s something crass for her enjoyment. Her eyes catch mine as she turns into Ryan’s arms and plants a lingering kiss on his lips. I ground myself in fear that I’ll go over there and snatch her lips off her face. Ryan, to my surprise, drops his arms from around her and pulls away as he heads in my direction.

Oh shit.

His tall body towers over mine as he approaches. I have to remind myself to breathe. I’m throwing a party tonight at my place and I’ll like it if you’d like to come.

I shoot a fleeting look over my shoulder to make sure he is indeed talking to me and not someone else. After all, this is the first time he’s ever spoken to me using so many words. I look back at him as he waits patiently for my answer.

I—um.

I know you work a lot, and so you may not be able to stay late, but a few hours shouldn’t hurt. What do you say?

Did he have to pull out the sexy smile? I mean, it’s making me a complete mess right now. He has to know what his looks and those dimples do to women. And, God, have I waited for this moment since that very first day I met him. The moment when he acknowledges me with more than one word while passing. We don’t hang in the same circles, so for him to invite me to his party puts me on edge. Why now, why after all these years? What is he up to? I hate to admit it, at the risk of sounding paranoid, but maybe his hussy posse finally convinced him to pull a prank on me to see how far my admiration for him goes.

Oh, I don’t know . . .

Oh, c’mon. You’ll have a good time. I promise.

I can’t help it. He doesn’t have to do much to get me to fall in a puddle at his feet. Smiling, I say, Sure, why not.

His eyes widen. He’s obviously surprised I accepted his invite. Catching Ryan off guard makes me smile even more. This is going to be interesting, the Pauperess getting an invitation to the ball from the prince himself. As a girl from the wrong side of town, I know my place around here, and that doesn’t include partying with the posh crowd.

He breaks my wayward thoughts by saying, Give me your number, and I’ll text you my address.

I fumble nervously in my pocket for my cell and hand it over to him. Our fingers brush at the tips, and biting my lip; it’s all I can do to keep myself from gasping at the contact. His fingers work at the buttons on the phone before he hands it back over to me.

There. I sent myself a text. Now I have your number. I’ll be sure to text you my address later.

I’m ever aware of the fact that he could have just put his address in my phone right now, but he didn’t. The thought makes me smile even more.

Wanting to get away before I make a complete fool of myself, I say bye, and head back inside the country club, disappearing to the lady’s restroom where I can gather my wits. Also, I want to celebrate. It’s a small victory, and more than likely will lead nowhere, but I’m happy to take the ride.

My small victory cuts short when I remember my thoughts from earlier—he’s from money, and I’m from nothing. What the hell am I thinking? Ryan invites me to a party and here my over active mind is analyzing it beyond that?

Anyhow, he’s with Samantha Huxley, the type of girl that was born and bred for him. Her family is from old money, just like his. She’s the type of girl his parents will want to see him marry. Before Sam, he was with Chloe for a while who also had more money than she knew what to do with. Unfortunately for her they split up over a year ago before he took up with Sam and the rest of the prestige floozies.

In my mind, I can already imagine what Ryan and Sam’s lives will be like: They’ll be married with two kids, a perfect boy, and girl. Then they’ll own a fancy mansion while pretending to be undyingly happy like every other Stepford family I come across every day.

Some of these people pretend their lives are happy and fulfilling, simulating to be living the way they’ve always dreamed their lives would be. Then I’d see or hear some of the wives crying in the bathroom while their husband’s prance around here, secretly fondling the female staff in places they have no business fondling. And why not? When the cat’s distracted, the mice will play, right? The girls, who work here, the ones who smile and allow themselves to be touched by these married men, are no different than the sleazy men they let touch them. I’ve heard whispers that the girls were afraid of losing their jobs if they complained or stopped the members wandering hands, and so they feel inclined to let these men have their way so that they can keep on working and collecting their big tips. Me, I’m not for sale. No big tips or promise of employment is justifiable enough for me to endure unwanted touches from anyone.

I glance up at the clock and see it’s time for my shift to end. I go to the back, grab my things, and head out before anyone can stop me. Reaching the parking lot, and unlocking my car, I slide into Betsey, my beat-up Honda Accord, and drive off, blasting my music as I jump on the highway and head home.

My phone chimes and I reach into my pocket to retrieve it. Peering at the screen, I see a text message from an unknown number. I swipe my finger across the screen.

The party should start around seven; this is my number, save it. Looking forward to seeing you.

I read the message again and again almost swerving off the road several times. I can’t believe I’m getting excited over a text message! I’m definitely reading too much into it. Him saying he’s looking forward to seeing me is getting me ruffled. It shouldn’t, but it is. I’m sure he only said it to be polite, something he says when he invites someone over to his house.

I check the time. It’s 5 pm. Good. I have a little time to relax before I need to start getting ready. I’m about to text my girls, Kyla, Madison, Julie, and Melissa, to find out if they’d like to go with me to the party. First, though, I need to find out if it’s OK with Ryan before I show up with a bunch of uninvited guests.

Hey, is it OK if I bring a friend or four along?

He replies instantly. What would a party be without friends? Of course it’s cool.

I text my girls next, then wait for them to respond. As soon as I pull up to my house, I hear my phone chiming away on the passenger seat where I throw it after texting Ryan. Jules, one of my best friends, is the only one who’s free tonight, but that’s cool; I love hanging out with her. I text her to meet me at my house; a little before seven so we can ride over together.

I walk into the kitchen and grab a bottle of water out of the fridge. The nervousness floating