If you’re one of my newsletter subscribers, you’ve come to the right place! Here is an exclusive teaser of my #MeetCute novel, By Choice. If you’ve read my Playing Games series, you’ve also met Sofie. Here’s how her story begins. Enjoy!
** Please keep in mind, this is an unedited teaser and should not be shared unless permission is given by Rene Folsom. Thank you for understanding. **
Staring at the ceiling, I nearly burned the popcorn patterns to memory while our bodies thrashed together. Well, more like his body thrashed into mine… over and over again. I wished I could’ve said we were in sync, moving together like two lovers should. But it hadn’t been like that in quite some time.
Lately, it seemed like my mind, body, and soul were all fighting against intimacy with my boyfriend of almost a year. Every time he touched me, my heart would scream at me for allowing it to continue. I knew I had to tell him the truth—tell him how I felt—tell him I was no longer in love with him. Things just weren’t that easy, and I was too weak of a human to admit I didn’t want to be alone.
Yet, no matter how scared I was, I knew he could no longer make my heart sing.
He still successfully made me sweaty though, and I forced myself to roll with the punches, moaning on cue while he continued to ravish me. My eyes nearly rolled to the back of my head, not out of pleasure, but out of pure impatience as I waited for him to come.
I knew I needed to do something to push things along, end this so I could get on with my day. So I did something I knew he would love and sunk my nails into his ass, gripping the muscles tight as he continued to drive against me.
That did it. With a loud grunt and a few more thrusts of his hips, he came inside me. Panting, he pressed his forehead to mine and slumped on top of me, pressing his lethargic body against mine. I waited for him to climb off, feeling his breathing even out a bit as he continued to smother me.
“Where’d you go?” he asked, lifting his head from my shoulder to meet my eyes—eyes that were nearly tearing up with unshed emotion.
Swallowing down my tears, determined not to show him how utterly miserable I was, I responded with the defense that only seemed natural at the time. “What do you mean? I’m right here,” I said, lifting my hands in a questioning manner behind his back while he still squished me into the mattress.
“You’ve been very distant lately. What’s going on with you? We used to be so close.” The pleading look in his eyes nearly broke my heart. I was being totally unfair to him, and I knew it.
Humor was the only thing I could do to deflect. “Distant? You’re still inside me, Curt. Don’t think we can get much closer than this.”
Pulling out and rolling off me with a groan, he stretched out beside me and said, “You know what I mean. Talk to me.”
Bracing himself up on his elbow, he ran his fingers through his sweaty hair and stared at me expectantly, waiting for an answer.
Nerves knotted up my insides. What was I supposed to say? It’s not you, it’s me? Pfft. Yeah right. Like that line hadn’t been beaten to death a million times over.
Then my mind wandered to earlier that day, when Curt saw me with… him.
The man who seemed to be uprooting my thoughts was named Tyson, and his persistence was insufferable. Yet, it was his tenacity that added some sort of charm to his already infuriatingly handsome physique. My falling out with Curt wasn’t because another man showed interest in me, but it didn’t take a genius to realize I wasn’t in a great place if the attention from another man had my insides swelling like a teen girl on prom night.
Earlier that day, I was rushing out of Photojournalism class, totally not paying attention to where I was going, when I suddenly hit a wall of muscle, the contents in my arms scattering all over the concrete surface beneath my feet.
“Sofie, I’m so sorry. You okay?” His familiar voice was so soothing in what should have been a rather embarrassing moment. I didn’t know the man well, only that he was in a few of my photography classes and seemed to have a bad habit of staring when he thought I wasn’t looking.
“Totally my fault. You know me—a walking disaster. I wasn’t watching where I was going,” I explained, tugging at my shirt awkwardly as I avoided his eyes. Kneeling down on the ground, I began gathering my things and added, “I got this.”
Tyson didn’t say anything as he silently helped me pick things up.
Our simultaneous blurting had us both giggling like some corny scene in a movie, and I suddenly blushed with the thought that I probably looked like a lost little girl he needed to rescue—at least, that was how I felt. I usually had no problem standing my ground with any man. My smart mouth always had something to say. But with Tyson, my tongue was simply… tied.
“You go first,” he said, gesturing toward me with a wave of his hand.
“No, please. What was it you were going to say?” Deflection was like a gift of mine.
“I was just going to ask where you’re rushing off to. Would you like to grab a bite to eat?”
I didn’t know what this guy saw in me. I mean, really… he was way out of my league. Did he like banging the frumpy book nerds as some sort of conquest?
Glancing up at him and barely making eye contact for fear I would crumple under his charm, I said, “I don’t think my boyfriend would approve of me going anywhere with a guy who’s hotter than he is.” I nearly smacked myself in the face after the words blurted from my mouth.
“So, you think I’m hot?” he asked with an all-too-confident smirk on his face. Leaning one hand against the wall, he nearly had me pinned in place.
Finally braving a straight-on look into his eyes, I said, “That’s old news, Tyson. But I’m still not going out with you.”
“I’ll get you to cave one of these days,” he said with a chuckle, causing his sexy Adam’s apple to bob in his throat.
“Just because you don’t seem to take no for an answer doesn’t mean I’ll break.” I couldn’t help the smile that snuck up on my face as I attempted to turn him down, per our usual. Just as he was about to say something, I looked over his shoulder and saw Curt. The fact Tyson had me nearly pinned against the wall probably didn’t look good.
“Ty, I gotta go,” I said, ducking under his arm and heading toward the sidewalk where Curt stood. Turning, I glanced over my shoulder and added, “I’ll see you around.”
Of course, Curt grilled me about my encounter of the Bond variety, but my mind was still swimming with the scent of Tyson so close to me. It was definitely clear I had no right to jerk Curt around, and I damn sure needed to put some distance between myself and the enigmatic Tyson Bond.
Little did I know he would become my kryptonite.