Finding My Sun

By Halo Roberts

Breakups suck. They suck even more after you drunkenly tell your A-list rock star boyfriend that you love him...then find your now ex best friend in his bed. Welcome to Laurel's world.

So, what's a girl with a mangled heart to do? Escape to the Caribbe

• Language: English
• Publisher: Halo Roberts
• Release date: Nov 9, 2020
• ISBN: 9781953204004

Halo Roberts

Halo Roberts is a writer of steamy rom-coms, lover of coffee and dark beer, and spoiler of two fat cats affectionately known as the Bitchy Betas. She's living happily ever after in Iowa with her very own hunky farm boy, and a small herd of stubborn mules that look a lot like children.

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Halo Roberts

Finding My Sun

A Bit of a Love Rhombus...Is That a Thing?

Copyright © 2020 by Halo Roberts

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

Halo Roberts has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of URLs for external or third-party Internet Websites referred to in this publication and does not guarantee that any content on such Websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.

First edition

ISBN: 978-1-953204-00-4

Cover art by Teshia Saunders

Editing by Taming The Ink

This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy

Find out more at reedsy.com

This one’s for FoxyK, who first insisted that Laurel had a story to tell.

You were right, Lady, and I thank you.

On an island in the sun

We’ll be playing and having fun

And it makes me feel so fine

I can’t control my brain

-Weezer

Contents

I. PART ONE: A WINK AND A SMILE

I’m Not Drunk, You’re Drunk

Coffee As Art

The Age of Laurel

I Need a Hug

On With Life

I Spy With My Little Eye

The Redhead on the Rock

Twenty-Six Minutes to Heaven

Dinner at Margo’s

Meet Me at the Beach

A Jump and a Kiss

The Hammock

The Secret Ingredient

Was That an Earthquake?

Tequila and a Keeper

A Bonfire Before Bed

If the Boat’s Rocking…

Let’s Go Sailing

Wow, She’s Brave

See? Rhombus.

Hammock Two, Laurel Zero

It’s Complicated

That Was…Surprising

I Think You Broke My Brain

I Guess That’s…That

Dissecting the Rhombus

What Kind of Coffee Is This?

Livin’ the Dream

A Question in the Sand

II. PART TWO: A BEACH WEDDING

The Invitation

Coffee Fix Found

What a Week

Rainy Date

Cozy is Good

Taste Tester and Storyteller

The Levels of Awkward

Black and White Things

Love is Love is Love

Thanks for reading! If you want more, here’s a little teaser.

Time to Poke the Bear

About the Author

Also by Halo Roberts

I

Part One: A Wink and a Smile

I’m Not Drunk, You’re Drunk

Chapter Separator

Laurel

Macie Moo, I lovvvve you, I hear my own voice over the pounding music and cringe, realizing the whiskey has taken over. Declaring how I feel for this man that is currently holding me up seems like the plan. Leaning back, it’s clear that I would tip over if his arm wasn’t around me, and I look into his eyes. Instant regret.

You’re smashed, Laurel, Mace’s beautiful accent rolls over my skin. It’s honestly probably the thing about him that I do love. His expression is wary. I don’t know why I just told him I love him, actually. Seems like a thing to do. So does getting another drink, but he frowns and keeps ahold of me when I try to head for the bar.

Mace Carson, lean, inked, broody. He’s a British rock star and he wants everyone to know it, and I just called him Macie Moo and dropped an L-bomb. Shoot me now. His eyes flicker over my shoulder, he waves a hand, and one of his security detail appear in my line of sight.

She’s making an idiot of herself, make sure she gets home, Mace extricates himself from my arms, there’s a good girl, he pats me on the ass and nods at his paid gorilla.

Sure, Boss. The gorilla, I eventually recognize as Tim, gently takes my arm. I’ve taken two wobbly steps before my slushy brain can send a signal to my mouth.

Wait, what the hell? Did I just get sent home? Are you fucking kidding me? As I build up steam, Tim smoothly winds an arm around my waist. Literally picking me up, he carries me to the exit of the club. I’m too shocked to do much more than smack his head and shoulders with my phone. How in hell have I not lost this thing yet? Tim’s an old pro though, he doesn’t stop moving until we reach a sleek black car and he deposits me in the back seat.

You’ll thank me tomorrow, Miss Laurel, he grins and then politely ignores me while I pout in the back seat the entire drive. Pulling up to the entrance of my apartment building, Tim gets out and opens my door, offering me a hand and smoothly passing me on to the doorman. Job done, he gets back in the car and leaves.

Hello, Ron. I gather the wilted shreds of my dignity about me and wish I’d had the foresight to take off, and carry, my heels. The car ride gave me a moment to sober up a tad and I feel like an ass.

Evening, Miss Williams, do you need a hand upstairs? He’s trying to hide a smile and I’m grateful.

No thank you, Ron, I’m fine, I prove it by walking steadily to the elevator and pushing the button. Stepping inside, I wait for the doors to close and rest my forehead on the cool metal panel above the buttons.

This isn’t me.

Coffee As Art

Chapter Separator

Laurel

3 months later

Humming to myself, I juggle two coffees as I let myself into Mace’s penthouse and kick off my shoes. Setting them on the counter, I blink as I see the lineup of empty bottles on the counter. Somebody had a hell of a night. It’s not uncommon, just a little unusual for a Tuesday.

Ever since my embarrassing ride home, I’ve stepped back from the endless parties that swept me away when Mace and I started dating. Mace and I have realized that we connect on a deeper level. We’ve been exploring our relationship as he works on his next album. I’m totally taking credit for that, I’m his muse. We’ve slowed things down, way…way down, because Mace wants to concentrate on his music, and I’ve strictly avoided any repeats of the L-word.

The words are just flowing as Mace writes his new songs. It takes up all of his time, it’s become his obsession. He’s clearly inspired and his bandmates are anxious to get in the studio and start recording. Probably the reason for all the bottles, they must have finally had a session last night.

All of this time for thought and reflection has been good for me. I keep telling myself that, otherwise I’ve just been doing a lot of yoga and trying not to die of boredom.

I’ve started writing again too, resurrecting the blog that I began a few years ago while travelling with my father, I want to share it with Mace. I feel like it’s time for him to start sharing in the things I’m interested in, branching out. I’d like him to travel with me, explore some new places. I’m nervous about bringing it up, but we care about each other, we need to keep growing together.

Leaving my bag on the counter, I pick up the coffees, crossing the living area as I head for the bedroom. Mace is probably still sleeping. As I walk down the hall, my feet sink into plush carpet, making no sound. Mace and I both startle as we meet at his bedroom door.

Laurel, shit! Startled me Love! Mace whispers, stepping into the hall and pulling the door shut behind him. Weird. He’s got a shirt in his hand and he quickly pulls it over his head, running a hand through his hair.

Hey, good morning, I tilt my head up and lean in to give him a kiss. He gives me the most perfunctory of pecks. Weird. He gingerly takes one of the coffees out of my hand.

Cheers, Love, this is perfect, let’s go sit by the pool, he takes my arm to steer me back out to the living room. Weird, weird, weird.

You know what? I think you’re acting weird, so I’d like to see what’s behind door number one first. Pulling my elbow out of his grasp, I quickly turn the doorknob and push the door open. Mace steps in my line of sight, but not before I see a flash of black hair as someone disappears into the bathroom.

Laurel, you don’t- Mace falters as I turn to him, but whatever my face is doing must be pretty fierce because he just gets out of my way. Stomping into the room, I raise my hand to knock on the bathroom door. It flies open before my knuckles make contact and I gasp.

Gabs? What the? Why are you-? I’m so confused to see her standing there, her brown eyes swimming with tears. She’s wearing Mace’s robe. Why is she wearing Mace’s robe?

I’m so sorry, she whispers, I didn’t want you to find out this way, we made a mistake… Gabrielle flaps her hands helplessly as I stand there speechless. Please, Laurel, can we- she bites her lip, shaking her head as tears start to slide down her cheeks.

Laurel, Love, Mace is trying for a soothing tone. Let’s go talk. Turning to look at him, I feel a smile stretching my lips. I back away from his outstretched hand, shaking my head slowly.

Hmmm, that’s a pass. Realizing I’m still holding my coffee, I take a sip. Well shoot, it’s gone cold. I whisper, and then before I can think too hard, I turn and throw it as hard as I can at the wall. It explodes, a beautiful splatter appearing on the white wool of the upholstered headboard, dripping down to soak the bedding. Gabs lets out a startled shriek. Mace is silent.

Nodding politely at each of them, I walk out of the room. I can feel their eyes on my back.

Oh Laurel, I’m so sorry, I hear Gabrielle whisper my name sadly.

I’ve never been as damn proud of myself as I am right now. I don’t scream at them and I will never let them see me cry. Two-timing, faithless, wankers, they can have each other. I simply put on my shoes, grab my bag and walk away from my new ex…and my new ex-best friend.

The Age of Laurel

Chapter Separator

Laurel

The flights are long. I’ve got two layovers to change my mind and go back, but I don’t. There’s really no elegant way to phrase it, I’m running away. The city has nothing I want right now. I’m feeling lost and alone and I need to regroup.

As I sip a new coffee in the Chicago airport during my first layover, my mind wanders to Gabrielle. My heart hurts and my chest feels like it’s caving in, how could she do this to us? We’ve been friends since primary school. I can’t remember life before Gabs. I’ll never forget the day we met.

It was an average fall morning, rapidly going to crap for me, because a boy in our class decided to make fun of my freckles. The super-unfortunate nickname ‘Poop-sprinkles’ was just starting to gain some traction when Gabrielle came on the scene. She’s always been impulsive with a quick temper. A bloody nose for him, a black eye for her and a call to both of their parents later, we were best friends.

Camps, riding lessons, cheerleading, we were inseparable. We double dated, smoked for the first time, got drunk on my