IF | A Novel Read online

  IF

  A Novel

  Randi Cooley Wilson

  Copyright © 2018 by Randi Cooley Wilson

  All rights reserved. Thank you for purchasing an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without written permission of the author or publisher.

  Published by SECRET GARDEN PRODUCTIONS, INC.

  Edited by Liz Ferry | Per Se Editing

  Cover Design by ©ByHangLe | Hang Le

  Book Formatting by Type A Formatting

  IF (A Novel)/Randi Cooley Wilson

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Edition December 2018

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Epilogue

  Revelation

  Read Revelation For Free!

  Vernal

  Read Vernal Today!

  Stolas

  Read Stolas Today!

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also By

  For the boy who stole a piece of my heart,

  And the man who never gave it back.

  No matter how much pain it has caused,

  no matter how many tears have fallen,

  sometimes love isn’t meant to be,

  leaving the ifs to linger.

  1

  EMERSON

  I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths, attempting to regain my composure. The crisp evening air fills my lungs but does nothing to soothe my soul. The truth is, tonight, nothing is going to keep me calm—except maybe copious amounts of alcohol.

  The brisk fall weather isn’t unusual for this time of year in New England. Cooler temperatures hang in the air, chilling even with a jacket. This evening, though, there is another reason for the icy presence deep within my bones.

  I shiver and stare at the closed double doors in front of me, knowing what’s waiting behind them. Tears threaten to burn the back of my throat. Suddenly, I miss California.

  My safe place.

  Far away from the memories.

  I exhale slowly, staring at the scene in front of me. The plain white church sits unassumingly on the grassy hill. Like most buildings in Massachusetts, it has a rich history and longstanding secrets. The steeple stands tall against the dusk-colored sky glowing with crimson and auburn hues.

  A breeze passes over me, carrying with it the whispers of the ghosts who’ve passed through the sacred doors. Blue hydrangeas frame the front of the historic building, popping off the white clapboards, which look like they’ve just received a fresh coat of paint. It’s picture perfect. On the outside. What’s inside is anything but perfect.

  “You ready, Emerson?” a gentle voice asks.

  I unglue my gaze from the church and turn my attention to the tall, handsome man beside me, Jake Irons. When my eyes meet his, he smiles effortlessly.

  How does he always appear so completely at ease all the time?

  It’s a gift. It must be. One that I don’t possess.

  My gaze roams over the tailored black suit he chose for tonight. It’s flawless.

  He’s flawless.

  “Ready,” I force out, focusing on how handsome he looks.

  Jake is easygoing. Calm. Steady.

  Exactly what I need to keep me composed.

  To keep my façade firmly in place.

  He reaches for my hand with his larger one. “You okay?”

  No. This is the first time my two worlds will collide, and it’s impossible to be okay.

  Lifting my gaze, I give him a watery smile and nod. “Just happy,” I lie.

  Jake studies me for a moment before squeezing my hand.

  He’s always so perceptive.

  It’s unnerving.

  But even he has no idea what we’re about to walk into. I’ve kept it from him, because I don’t want my complicated past to tarnish my future with him. I know he senses the sadness at times, the void, but he never pushes. Never asks. He doesn’t try to fix the broken pieces or make me whole. He simply accepts that this is the way I am.

  With a slight tug of encouragement, he guides me toward the entrance. And with each step closer, my heart lodges itself farther in my throat. The panic crawls underneath my skin, threatening to break through the surface as I try to convince myself that my world won’t fall apart the moment I step into the church.

  The doors open and a friendly face greets us. “You guys made it!”

  Relief crosses my friend Josh’s face, and I can’t help but smile at his energy.

  “Sorry we’re late.” I step into his warm embrace.

  Josh has always been my favorite boyfriend of Kennison’s. The three of us went to college together—part of a larger group of friends. And while they’ve had their ups and downs, it really does make me happy to see the two of them getting married this weekend.

  “Where is Kenz?” I ask, hoping to see my best friend.

  “With the wedding coordinator, going over some last minute details. She’ll be out in a minute. Come in. Everyone is already here.” Josh steps to the side, letting me by so that he and Jake can shake hands and do their guy greeting thingy.

  The moment I enter the church, the air around me jumps with electricity. My chest begins to cave in and my skin feels too tight all over my body. The weight of his stare is on me, and my skin heats under it. My head swirls and chaos grips me. I take a deep breath, trying to control what I knew was going to happen the moment I saw him again.

  Lincoln Daniels is impossible to ignore.

  We are impossible to ignore.

  When my gaze lifts, it tangles with a set of steel-gray eyes.

  And with one look, I’m gone.

  Lost in the memories and heartache.

  The ifs lingering between us.

  2

  FRESHMAN YEAR OF COLLEGE

  Heading to class, I ignore the tiny drops of water falling from the dark gray sky. For early September, it’s cold. And wet. All around crappy out. I growl under my breath and make a mental note to move somewhere warm and full of sunshine after graduation. It’s been two days since I started my freshman year at the private college I’m attending in Massachusetts, and both days have been full of nothing but dreary weather.

  With a sigh, I rush up the cracked brick stairs and head into the oldest building on campus. Unfortunately for me, it’s also the farthest building from the freshman dorm. The heavy double doors slam behind me as I rush down the corridor trying to find my lecture hall. Once I do, I stumble into the room and take a seat in the middle row of the auditorium. With a heavy exhale, I slide off my backpack and place it down next to my feet
.

  Chilled, I snuggle into the oversized jacket keeping me warm. It belongs to my boyfriend, Lucas. We had an amazing summer together, which ended with an ugly reality—we were leaving for separate colleges. In a pathetic attempt to hold on to what we thought was love, he sent me on my way wearing his varsity jacket. It keeps me warm, I’ll give him that.

  After a few minutes, a tall slim older woman walks in, taking her place at the podium in the front of the class. The handful of us who made it on time fall quiet and listen.

  “Good Morning. You are in English 101, Writing Rhetorically. If you are not supposed to be in here, now is your chance to escape. I’m Professor Landry. This semester we will be focusing on intensive practice in composing persuasive texts, while exploring various rhetorical writing techniques. My TA will be handing out the syllabus shortly,” Professor Landry announces. “I will not be taking daily attendance. You are adults. I expect you to show up and do the work. If you do, your grades will reflect the effort.”

  “Hey.” A guy pokes me in the shoulder with his pen, whisper-shouting.

  Turning, I meet his gaze. “What?” I whisper back.

  “Do I know you?” he asks.

  My gaze runs over his face before I shake my head no. I haven’t seen him before.

  He glares at me in disbelief. “Where did you get that jacket?”

  My eyes drop to my chest before they return to the brown ones staring at me.

  “It’s my boyfriend’s.”

  The guy grins widely. “I went to that prep school.” He tilts his head so he can read the name on the sleeve. “Lucas and I are high school buddies. You’re his girl?”

  “Yes.” I turn my attention back to the professor, trying to focus on the lecture.

  A second later, a commotion to my right pulls my focus as the stranger slides into the empty seat next to me, leaning into my space. “When did you two start dating?”

  Without facing him, I sigh heavily. English is my favorite subject and, to be honest, his inquisition during class is starting to grate on me. “This summer. He’s the cousin of a good friend of mine from high school. I met him at her graduation party.”

  He presses his lips together in contemplation. “I’m Tyler Hamilton.”

  “Emerson.” I keep my focus forward, hoping he’ll get the hint that I’m here to learn.

  He doesn’t. “So, Emerson, did you go to many of Lucas’s baseball games?”

  “A few Cape League games over the summer,” I mutter under my breath.

  A light chuckle falls out of him. “We played high school baseball together. He’s an amazing pitcher. Really talented. He’s on scholarship at Boston College, right?”

  Turning, I look at him. Tyler’s baby face is framed by short curly dark brown hair. Freckles dot his innocent expression and his friendly gaze screams beloved hometown baseball player. He’s definitely someone I can see Lucas being friends with.

  “Yeah. He’s playing ball at BC.”

  “Good for him. He’s got a solid chance at the minors,” he replies with admiration.

  I give Tyler my best polite smile. I spent endless hours sitting in bleachers this summer watching Lucas play. Let’s just say, baseball is not my favorite pastime.

  Holding my eyes, Tyler dips his chin. “I’m on the baseball team here.”

  I nod, fighting off my overwhelming sense of irritation. “That’s great.”

  Tyler finally gets the hint and falls silent for the rest of the class. When Professor Landry releases us, I stand and begin to leave, but he suddenly appears at my side.

  “So, here’s the deal, Emmie. Back at prep school, the players looked out for one another’s girls. Since Lucas and I are good friends, that extends here to college as well.”

  I throw my bag over my shoulder and narrow my eyes, not following. “What?”

  Tyler stares at me like I’m amusing. “Consider me your big brother slash bodyguard for the semester. Where you go, I go. It’s an understanding we have with our teammates.”

  “You two aren’t on the same team anymore,” I point out. “And it’s Emerson.”

  He cocks his head. “Brothers are brothers. No matter who or what team we play for.”

  “Look, I know you’re being nice but, I don’t need a . . .” I motion up and down. “You.”

  “Have you seen you?” He takes my elbow and gently pulls me toward the door as he falls into step with me and we walk together. “You totally need a . . . me.”

  “What is that supposed to mea—” I start, but he cuts me off.

  “Come on, pretty girl. Let’s not be late for our next class.”

  Furious, I glare at him, but he brushes it off, as if I’m simply amusing to him.

  During our walk, Tyler goes on and on about our friendship and how things will be. He chats with me the entire way, telling me all about his classes and baseball schedule as if we’ve been friends our entire lives and he’s merely filling me in on things I should already know. When we finally get to the building my next class is in, he makes a point to walk me to the door and then strangely hands me a bottle of water from his backpack before returning my own bag to me, which he insisted he carry the entire way here.

  His motions his chin toward the bottle of water. “Hydration is key to health.”

  I blink at him. “Right. Listen, Tyler, Lucas is my boyfriend, so . . .”

  “I’m not hitting on you. I have a girlfriend.”

  “You do?”

  “Yeah. That isn’t what this is about.”

  “It’s not?” I frown, confused.

  “Teammates take care of our own. It’s what we do, Emmie.”

  “Emerson,” I correct.

  He smiles brightly. Realizing he’s not leaving until I walk in, I shake the bottle at him.

  “Thanks. For this. And carrying my bag,” I exhale.

  “Anytime. Have a good class.”

  “You too, Tyler.”

  “Oh, and Emmie? I’ll be outside in an hour to walk you back to the freshman dorm.”

  Before I can protest, he winks and walks backwards toward his class.

  And that is how Tyler Hamilton came into my life, and ruined it.

  3

  My heart pounds in my chest as I make my way down the crowded corridor, which is on the second floor of the freshman dorm. The stench of beer and marijuana permeate the air as I follow my roommate through the sea of bodies partying around us. Even with the wide hallways, people are shoulder to shoulder, hanging out, laughing, and drinking.

  Voices blur, mixed in with the music as students lean into each other’s ears so they can hear and talk, their arms flailing with dramatic gestures as they try to communicate over the noise.

  “Stay close!” Kennison shouts over her shoulder, guiding me forward.

  For a quick moment, I lock gazes with some guy who winks at me as I pass by him. I roll at my eyes at the blatant way he’s checking me out, unimpressed by the attractive dark-haired jock. He reminds me of Lucas, and even Lucas isn’t impressing me these days.

  We’ve been at school for an entire month and he’s called me twice. And when we do talk, our conversations are entirely focused on him. Or baseball. Nothing about me.

  Ignoring another guy who smiles at me in the hallway, we push our way through the throngs of drunk freshmen toward Tyler’s suite. As we stumble in, a heavy cloud of smoke hits me in the face. It’s settled around the room and reeks of marijuana mixed with booze.

  I look around. Everything here screams panic-attack trigger and safety-rule breaking.

  “Hey!” Tyler brightens when he sees us. “You ladies made it.”

  “We did.” I wince when his beer-scented breath hits my face.

  Tyler’s bloodshot eyes meet mine and then slide to the pretty blonde girl by his side. “This is Julia, my girlfriend,” he shouts proudly, before leaning into Julia’s ear. Julia’s new. Last week, it was Rebecca. Tyler changes girlfriends often. “This is Emmie, a prep school teammate
’s girlfriend, and her roommate, Kennison,” he slurs.

  “It’s Emerson,” I correct for the hundredth time.

  Julia gives us a polite smile and quick wave before she slips away, over to her friends.

  “Booze is in the back left corner. Other shit to the right!” Tyler winks at us.

  Uncomfortable, Kenz and I watch as he follows Julia like a puppy dog over to a group of large-chested blonde girls. They’re surrounded by members of the baseball team. I shake my head at the way they’re all drunkenly flirting with one another without shame.

  My roommate meets my eyes with a knowing smile and we both laugh.

  After we met at orientation, Kennison and I became instant friends and requested to room together. I watch as she throws her curly chestnut hair up into a clip and I can’t help but be grateful she’s here. She’s from a small town not too far from campus, and like me, she’s lived a pretty sheltered life. We’re definitely both out of our element tonight.

  She tilts her head at me as I stare at her. “You want to stay or go?”

  “We can stay for a bit,” I reply, knowing she wants to.

  “You sure?”

  I shrug. “This is part of the college experience, right?”

  “Right.” She nods once.

  Suddenly, the air in the room shifts. The electricity bouncing off the haze of smoke pulls my attention to a guy who appears in the doorway across the suite. Relaxed and unaffected by the throng of people in the tiny space, he strolls in and the crowd parts.