Hi, everyone! Hope you’re all doing great. This week’s post is a continuation of the last one. We have another author contributing to our fundraiser compilation for Fandoms Against Domestic Violence. Just so you know, myself along with a few author friends are going to piece our contribution stories together in a PDF and offer it to anyone who donates to the Domestic Violence cause.
We want our stories to benefit the cause we wrote it for. If ANY of you have already donated, please notify my friend April via PM or direct email. Her email address is the number eighty-nine (89) and her FF name (fyrebyrd) at gmail dot com. You will automatically receive this additional collection of 6 stories.
For those who haven’t donated yet, or perhaps weren’t going to donate, maybe you’ll reconsider. We’re planning to have this PDF ready to send on Nov 14 to anyone who donates or has already donated. There is no minimum, and the only requirement is that it be a Domestic Violence cause. Just donate and send a picture of the receipt or confirmation email at the email address above, so that we will have an avenue to send the PDF out to you.
Please consider donating to this worthy cause. Now, without further ado … here is the teaser for the last jewel in our contribution to the cause. Enjoy! 🙂
Fly With Me by ForeverRobsessed
Summary: He was the anchor that grounded me to reality, and I was the kite that helped him soar when he let me tug him along. It worked for us . . . Usually. Sometimes, though, I just made him mad.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” I chanted as I hopped into the car, rushing to buckle my seatbelt.
He wordlessly handed me a thermos, which I opened to breathe in the rich aroma of his mother’s delicious hot chocolate.
“Mmmm,” I moaned in pleasure. “Thank you.”
He grunted, before pulling out of my driveway with an ease that came from years of practice.
Both Edward and I were currently in the senior year of high school, and we’d been riding together since Edward got his license six months before I did. Given that we were neighbors, he didn’t have to go out of the way to pick me up. Back then, it’d just made sense, but ever since, it had become a comfortable habit. The days when I managed to get out of the house on time, we happily chatted on our way to school. But other days . . . conversation or lack thereof was debatable.
“Who was it this time?” he asked me, finally speaking up after five minutes of tense silence.
I bit my lip to hide a grin, happy that his mood was taking a turn for the better quicker than I’d expected.
“Ashton Kutcher and Mila Kunis,” I breathed out, the words almost a wistful sigh. “It was such a cute story!”
Edward shook his head and pressed his lips together, saying nothing.
He wasn’t a great fan of the new podcast I’d discovered, which aired every other morning exactly at the time I was supposed to get ready for school. It was called Kismet at Work. They aired stories of celebrity couples who had met and fallen in love in the most adorable ways, the stories behind their relationship sometimes even good enough to be made into movies.
They made me smile, cry, laugh, sigh, but more than anything . . . they made me dream of being in a story of my own – one where I’d meet the love of my life in a way that would leave the world spellbound.
More than anything, I wanted my own story, and I couldn’t wait to find out what it’d be like.
“Wasn’t he married to someone else before this one?” my surly, serious-as-hell best friend pointed out, and I rolled my eyes.
“Yes, but obviously they weren’t right for each other,” I commented. “Because when Mila and he found each other, everything fell into place perfectly.”
“You’re amazingly starry-eyed sometimes, Bella. Every time I think you’ll move past this phase, you surprise me by still lingering there.”
I scowled. “This is the time to be starry-eyed. Why shouldn’t I make the most of it? I’m not going to be building dream castles when I’m stuck in a stuffy job ten years down the line. If I don’t do it now, I’ll regret it forever,” I informed him.
“I just hope it doesn’t come crashing down on you someday,” he mumbled sadly. The note of melancholy in his voice confused me. Since he didn’t explain himself, I shied away from asking questions that could lead us into a fight.
“Even if it does, I’m prepared for that possibility. I’ll hold onto my wings until then, though.”
I hope you’ll consider donating to this worthy cause. Thank you for visiting.