Hers to Forget: Sideswiped Series, #4.5
By Avery Samson
()
About this ebook
Will he be hers forever, or will he only be hers to forget?
Teddy was simply her brother-in-law's foul-mouthed little brother. He became her best guy friend when he was fourteen. By seventeen, he was still the foul-mouthed little brother but now he was surly and beautiful. She fell in love that summer only to leave again. Now he is the handsome, reserved twenty-two year old that she needs to forget once and for all. If she can only get far enough away, he can have the life he deserves. If she can only run from my dreams.
Sophia Wright thinks she can run from him. But he has been in love with her since he was fourteen and no distance can ever really separate them. He's tried to let her go on with her life without him, but now he's had a taste of her. He knows they can have their happily ever after if he can only find her again. He will cross the world to find the one person put on this earth for him if he has to. Now he just has to convince her that their only hope of happiness is in each other's arms.
WARNING: This novella is meant to be read at the end of the series. Otherwise, it is likely to be rather confusing!
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Titles in the series (4)
Hers to Take: Sideswiped Series, #0.5 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsHers to Keep: Sideswiped Series, #1 Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Hers to Win: Sideswiped Series, #2 Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Hers to Forget: Sideswiped Series, #4.5 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratings
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Hers to Forget - Avery Samson
1
TEDDY
Iam Icarus and she is my sun. I know if I fly too close to her, the fall will kill me. Shaking my head, I laugh at myself. Maybe I shouldn’t have taken that poetry class my freshman year. I’m pretty sure it filled my perfectly adjusted math mind full of bullshit.
I would say I haven’t even thought about my Sophia in years, but it would be a lie. Even after all this time, I still dream about her every night. I sigh as I cross through Covent Garden heading toward my tiny apartment in SoHo. My school friends would refer to me as pussy whipped if they could read my thoughts. Sad thing is, I would happily agree with them.
I first met Sophia on the Wednesday morning before Thanksgiving eight years ago. She bounded down the front porch of her house, the sunlight bouncing off her chestnut hair. She had the most beautiful smile on her face and when she turned to me, I was lost forever.
I was fourteen and had just been discovered living at a boy’s home by an older brother I had never met. Grayson had not known I existed until that day, but he immediately accepted me as his family. He was the best thing to happen in my life.
Our parents had abandoned me, as they had him a decade before, signing me over to the state without a second thought. Grayson had pulled me from that home, moved me in with him, and sent me to the best schools in the city.
He gave me everything, but all I’ve ever wanted was Sophia. I had one glorious summer with her the year she graduated from high school. I’m sure she saw it as babysitting, but I loved every second I was with her.
Grayson and his wife, Izzy, had their first baby that summer. We had moved into a new house, with Sophia moving in down the street after her parents sold their house in the Panhandle to move closer to their first grandchild. Grayson bought her a car for graduation, so we spent hours just driving around, listening to music.
But Sophia moved that August to college on the other side of the country. I saw her occasionally for holidays but always surrounded by family.
No one seemed to notice that I never dated much in high school, assuming I was too much of a player. Sleep deprivation could be part of the reason since my nephew was soon followed by twin girls, but I doubt it. I could always talk a good game when Grayson drug me along to guy’s night, but there could never be anyone but Sophia.
When I won a place at the prestigious London School of Economics upon graduation, I thought Grayson would burst. He told everyone that would listen how I would someday surpass him in investment prowess. It has taken me away from home for almost four years now.
I haven’t seen Sophia much during that time, only hearing from her occasionally. Until now, anyway. She just arrived in London for a week to work on an article about a new Andrew Lloyd Webber play opening in two weeks.
Journalism was always a passion of hers, majoring in it in college before managing to land a job at the entertainment desk for CBS news. She has appeared several times on camera and I have every clip saved to my computer.
I know she aspires to be a foreign correspondent though, so she takes every foreign assignment she can get her hands on. I’ve never doubted that she will make it someday. Sophia doesn’t know the meaning of failure.
She contacted me last week to let me know she would be staying in SoHo for the week and would like to see me. My plan was to spend these four years trying to move on from her. Now I’m fighting to act like it’s just two friends getting together for a drink instead of my first and only love crashing back into my life.
I’ve pushed my feelings for her down for eight years now. One more week should be child’s play. This time when she leaves to move on with her life, just maybe, I can move on with mine. That’s my plan anyway.
She arrives tomorrow afternoon. I offered to pick her up from Gatwick, but she assured me arrangements had been made. We made plans to meet for dinner at a place near Her Majesty’s Theatre.
I bought a new shirt, had my hair cut, and cleaned my apartment for the occasion. I’m not sure what I’m expecting, but it helped keep my nerves at bay for a while.
I dreamed about her again last night. We were in bed with her legs wrapped around me as I made love to her. I’ve had that same dream probably a thousand times since I was fourteen, the dreams growing in intensity through the years.
She arrives in town today. It’s Friday morning and I have class. I’ve had numerous job offers so far, but I’m leaning toward joining my brother’s new firm. He and his business partner, Matthew, opened it a year ago. They are still struggling to keep up with the influx of clients.
My brother has always been gifted at reading the trends in the market, making a large fortune for his clients. When he decided to open his own firm, most of them moved over. I’ve had a written offer from him in my desk drawer for six months now. I enjoy hearing about how the firm is growing during Grayson’s weekly calls but I’m still not completely positive what direction I want to go in.
Classes are easy for me. Economics has always made sense in my world. I was told in high school by Izzy’s best friend, Lily, that just the mention of a word problem made her glaze over. I guess that’s why she chose art history instead.
For me, numbers are a constant, even when they flow fluidly in business. I laugh, thinking about the looks that both Lily and her sister-in-law, Maggie, an English teacher, used to give me whenever I tried to explain it to them. They usually just offered a hug halfway through my colorful description, which was fine with me since they are both gorgeous.
When class ends, I head back to my apartment. Quickly running through a shower, I take my time to dress. I decide on a pair of navy slacks with my new button-down gray shirt, even polishing my only pair of dress shoes. Trying to make my hair behave in the mirror, I finally give up.
I look so much like my brother that, if we weren’t twelve years apart in age, we could be mistaken for twins. The main difference between us is his ability to always look perfectly groomed. That and our eye color.
I’ll be early, but I can’t stand to stay in this apartment another minute. It’s a short walk to the restaurant, which is where Sophia finds me pacing out front.
Teddy? That can’t possibly be you!
I turn to find Sophia. It’s like I’m fourteen again as I’m rendered mute watching her walk toward me like something out of a dream. With a mental shake of my head, I manage to smile as she approaches.
Soph! You made it!
She throws her arms around my neck, pulling me into a tight hug. She smells of sunshine and lavender, just like in my dreams. I hug her tight back, trying desperately to convince my heart to slow down. So far, my plan to move on isn’t working so well.
You’re so grown up,
she says, stepping back so she can appraise me.
It had to happen eventually. Couldn’t stay a snot-nosed asshat forever.
She loops her arm through mine, reaching up to kiss me on the cheek. Don’t talk crazy! You were always the coolest asshat I knew.
I want to ask her how she sees me now, but I hold my tongue. For at least one night, I can pretend that she doesn’t affect me so dramatically.
Shall we head in?
I ask, opening the door.
I can’t resist placing my hand on her back to lead her through the restaurant to our table. Though she has a long jacket on, I can still remember how her skin felt when we danced