Until Forever: You’re Mine, 3 Read online

  Until Forever

  You’re Mine, 3

  Jenika Snow

  UNTIL FOREVER (YOU’RE MNE, 3)

  By Jenika Snow

  www.JenikaSnow.com

  [email protected]

  Copyright © February 2020 by Jenika Snow

  First E-book Publication: February 2020

  Photographer: Wander Aguiar

  Cover model: Andrew Biernat & Emily Spencer Jones

  Photo provided by: Wander Book Club

  Cover Designer: Pop Kitty

  Editor: Kayla Robichaux

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: The unauthorized reproduction, transmission, or distribution of any part of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  This literary work is fiction. Any name, places, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or establishments is solely coincidental. Please respect the author and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials that would violate the author’s rights.

  Contents

  Synopsis

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Epilogue One

  Epilogue Two

  About the Author

  She was the shy new girl who’d walked into class. I instantly knew we’d be inseparable.

  Abigail and Max. That sounded perfect.

  Everything about her mesmerized me, from her sandy blonde hair, to the sweet scent of cotton candy bubble gum that clung to her. And as the years passed, those feelings of infatuation I had for her grew to something so much more.

  Bone-deep, soul-claiming love.

  And now at eighteen, we were both ready to start new paths in life. I was ready to be a man and tell her how I felt. But was I crossing a line that couldn’t be uncrossed?

  Would I ruin what I had with my best friend all for the hope she was in love with me, too?

  But fear of the unknown had nothing on what I felt for Abigail, and damn any consequences that rose up by being honest with her.

  Chapter One

  Max

  I wanted her as mine. Always.

  I knew that as soon as I saw her, the new girl with the sandy-blonde hair, the shy expression on her face, and the way she looked around the class as though she was scared of us. And in that moment. I wanted to pull her in close, tell her everything would be okay, and that I’d protect her.

  I might only be thirteen years old, but my heart started racing for the first time in my life when I looked at her, when our teacher introduced her to the class.

  Abigail.

  Her name was so pretty, just like her.

  She had these big blue eyes, her lips pink and full. I wondered if her mom let her wear lipstick.

  My thoughts were broken up when the teacher had her sit right next to me.

  I tried hard not to smile in pleasure. She smelled good too, like cotton candy bubblegum, the kind that was pink and blue and was really bad for your teeth but just tasted so good you didn’t care if it was.

  I bet she’d give me cavities she was so sweet.

  I looked over at her, her head downcast as she stared at the stack of books sitting on her desk. The fall of her blonde hair hid her face from me, but her features were already etched in my memory. I’d never forget what she looked like, ever.

  “Hi, I’m Max.”

  She turned her head and looked at me, lifting her hand and moving her hair to put it behind her ear. “Hi. I’m Abigail.”

  Her voice was soft and low, but it was so pretty-sounding. My heart was beating really hard and fast, and I wondered if she could hear it.

  “Where did you move from?” She shifted on the seat a little bit before looking back at me.

  “Chicago.”

  I nodded like I knew all about Chicago, even though I didn’t. I’d never been there before and didn’t know anything about it.

  “Do you miss it?”

  She shook her head, that cotton candy bubblegum smell slamming into me even harder.

  “No, I don’t miss it.”

  I nodded again and cleared my throat, wanting to know everything about her. I wanted to know what her favorite food was, what her favorite band was. Did she like one of those boy bands? Or maybe she liked the old rock music my dad listened to. It was kind of cool. I didn’t much care for country, but if she liked it, I’d listen to it with her.

  “Are you liking it here so far?” I should’ve left her alone. She seemed awfully shy and reserved, and I was probably pestering her with my questions. But the truth was, I couldn’t help myself. I liked hearing her voice. I wanted to know everything there was about her.

  She looked over at me again and gave me this little smile. “Yeah, it’s really nice here.”

  The teacher started talking, unfortunately, and I was pulled away from my focus of her, not wanting to be obvious, and definitely not wanting the teacher to call me out on staring at the new girl. But I couldn’t help myself from glancing over at her several times. I also couldn’t stop deeply inhaling more of her incredible scent.

  “Are you making any friends?” I whispered. She shook her head, and that broke my heart. “Well, I’ll be your friend.” She glanced at me, and her big blue eyes went wide. “I’ll be your best friend.” And the small smile she gave me went straight to my heart.

  Whatever it was about this girl... it was permanent for me.

  Chapter Two

  Abigail

  Five years later

  I stared at my class schedule and felt nothing but trepidation. I’d opted to skip fall classes and took those months to save up some money for books. It was also a leave to help with my sanity. I made no secret my social anxiety was high at times, and starting college for the first time made me a nervous wreck.

  But as I looked at Max, I felt that stress start to slowly fade. He wrapped his arm around me and pulled me in close. My head barely reached his shoulder, his lean, athletic swimmer’s body toned and masculine against my much softer one.

  Over the last five years, we’d become inseparable, the best of friends. Just like he said we’d be when we were thirteen years old.

  And in the passing years, he’d grown into the man he was today... the man I loved, was in love with. Even if he was only eighteen, he was so much more mature than boys our age, had plans and aspirations for his future.

  He might not be going to school with me, but he did have a duplex his uncle let him stay in rent-free as long as he did the upkeep and maintenance for both units, and he was only twenty minutes from the university. He also worked full-time at his uncle’s mechanic shop. I looked up to him in more ways than one.

  He took my schedule out of my hand and looked it over. I stared at his fingers. They had remnants of grease stains on them, and I couldn’t help but smile. He worked so hard, even at such a young age. Even if his parents wanted him to go to school, get a degree, financially, it just wasn’t possible at this point, even with the help of student loans. So, he worked his ass off, saved up his money, and one day, I knew he’d get that business degree he wanted so he could own his own body shop.

  And Max was so driven and responsible I knew he’d make that his reality.

  “Hey, don’t look so scared,” Max said, and I looked over and up at him and smiled.

  “Easy f
or you to say. Nothing scares you.” The way he looked at me in that second was an expression I’d never seen from him before.

  He was nervous.

  “Are you okay?” I felt my brows knit. “Did I say something?”

  He swallowed roughly and shook his head. “Sorry, I’m good.” He gave me one of those genuine, blinding smiles I loved so much.

  “Really? Because you look like you’re almost as nervous as I am.” I started laughing when he rolled his eyes, shrugging one of his shoulders. That laughter died in my throat as I watch the muscles underneath his sweater flex.

  “Why aren’t you wearing a thicker jacket?”

  He looked over at me and whiffed, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

  “Max, it’s like thirty-five degrees.” And here I was, wearing a thick-ass jacket, three layers under that, and had a scarf and was still cold.

  “It’s not that cold.” He winked at me.

  I just shook my head, assuming it was a guy thing. He’d helped me and my parents move into the dorm last weekend, and although I could’ve probably stayed there, my parents wanted to spend that extra time with me.

  And I’d been fine with that—loved it, in fact. And Max had spent just as much time with us, even if he was only a short car ride away.

  We headed inside and straight to my dorm room. He held the door open for me and I walked in, my backpack slung over my shoulder, half of the rest of my things shoved inside. Max had a duffel bag with the other half, mainly clothes, but also things my mom had put in there right before I left. More clothes, a couple new packs of socks and underwear, bottles of water, and a whole lot of junk food. She’d said it was for late-night studying.

  I’d already met my roommate last weekend, Della. She was the complete opposite of me, with long, black wavy hair, big brown eyes, a nose ring, and a tattoo across her chest of angel wings. And because she was my opposite, I knew we’d get along great. I was reserved, an introvert. She was an extrovert all the way.

  Maybe she’d help me come out of my shell over time.

  She was lying on the bed with her cell phone pressed to her ear. Della lifted her hand in a wave toward me. I dropped my bag on the mattress, and Max did the same with my duffel. Then I sat on the edge, looking up at him, feeling trepidation fill me.

  “This feels a little surreal.” I hadn’t really been nervous about starting school, living in a dorm, being away from my parents, or really just the stress of college in general. But now as I sat here, looking around, knowing this was the first day, all that scared the shit out of me.

  “Hey,” he said softly and sat on the bed next to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me in close. I rested my head against him and exhaled. “You know if you need anything, I’m just a phone call away, just ten minutes down the road. Five if I don’t go the speed limit.”

  I chuckled and nodded. “I know, but you’re gonna be busy at the body shop. I’m going to be busy with school, and I think the thing that scares me the most is that our friendship will suffer because of it.”

  He made a deep rumble in his chest, one I knew was disapproval. “Abigail, you’re insane if you think I’m not going to visit you every single day, that we’re not going to be hanging out every free chance we have, or that for one second I’m going to let a busy schedule stand in the way of our friendship.”

  I pulled back and looked at him, smiling, hearing the truth in his words. “Good, I was hoping you’d say that.” He gave me a wink and a crooked smile, one that had my heart flipping in my chest. God, could I be in love with this boy any more than I already was?

  No.

  The answer was a resounding no.

  Chapter Three

  Max

  I hated leaving her, but until the right moment came and I could tell Abigail how I felt, keeping things platonic was the best option. Not to mention, she was stressed out with school and being away from her parents for the first time. I didn’t want to shell-shock her all at once.

  But damn, it was hard, and with each passing day, all I wanted to do was pull her in close, push the hair away from her face, and whisper to her that I loved her. But I wanted to go slow and easy with Abigail. Our friendship was strong, stronger than anything I’d ever experienced in life. And the fact that I loved her only made things even tighter between us. Although she didn’t know my feelings, she knew I would die for her.

  And I would die for her over and over again.

  I got into my car and stared up at the vicinity I knew her dorm window was. I could imagine her in there getting comfortable and situated, getting to know her roommate a little bit better. As I looked around at the campus, seeing all the guys, smart assholes who were good-looking, anger rose up inside me. I was a jealous bastard when it came to Abigail, and her time, her very presence, was mine… only mine.

  To even think of her sharing any amount of time with one of these little motherfuckers enraged me. The very thought of her even sitting next to another guy, of the prick looking over at her and realizing how vulnerable and innocent she was, had me curling my hands tightly around the steering wheel. The leather creaked and I loosened my grip, resting my head back on the seat and breathing out roughly.

  I didn’t know how long I could last keeping my feelings bottled up, especially with her now in college. At least in high school we saw each other every day, all day. I could keep all the little fuckers away, because the truth was, guys had one thing on their mind, and I knew damn well in college it was no different.

  I headed home with enough time to put on a change of clothes before I had to go to the body shop. A small package sat on my doorstep, and after I picked it up and headed inside, I set it on the breakfast counter and opened it. Inside was the bag I’d ordered, the custom conversation hearts that said small phrases that were personal and intimate, ones I’d come up with that were just for Abigail.

  I wasn’t a sappy, romantic kind of guy, but when it came to Abigail, I wanted to be the kind of man who gave her chocolates and flowers, who sprinkled rose petals on the floor just so her bare feet could feel how soft they were. And I’d wracked my brain on how to tell her that I loved her. Sitting on the couch with a box of pizza in front of us seemed grossly inadequate, even if that was one of our favorite things to do.

  She deserved more.

  And maybe spelling out my feelings for her with these pieces of candy was pretty fucking cliché and cheesy, but I knew she’d like it. I hoped she would anyway.

  I took the bag out and set it by the microwave, knowing I needed to figure out when I was going to do this. Maybe Valentine’s Day. That seemed romantic, right?

  I didn’t know shit about this stuff or what women liked. I knew Abigail like I knew myself, but this was a whole other level I was unfamiliar with.

  I ran my hand over my face and leaned against the counter, staring at the small black box I kept on my bookshelf. I walked over to it, grabbed it, and went over to the couch and sat down.

  I probably looked at the contents of this box a dozen times over the years. I’d gotten the camera on my fourteenth birthday, and I had taken so many pictures that my mom had gotten pissed, because she had to keep buying me film.

  I picked up the stack of pictures and looked through them. The majority were just of Abigail, ones where the light was hitting her perfectly, others where she was laughing, some midbite right before she got pissed at me for taking pictures of her eating. It was an array of the different shades of Abigail. And her personality came out in each one.

  I held one that was of her and me. I was staring at her, a small smile covering her lips as she faced the camera. My mother had taken it on her seventeenth birthday, but I remembered it like it was just yesterday, like I was standing right beside her, inhaling that sweet cotton candy scent that clung to her. How could she not see the way I looked at her, this longing in my gaze?

  God, I loved her.

  I set the pictures back in the box and put it on the bookshel
f, knowing I was done fucking around. I was done waiting. I was going to finally man up and tell Abigail the truth. I’d spread those conversation hearts out, cheesy as it may be, and let her see with her eyes that I could be soft, gentle, and romantic. And then when she looked up at me for confirmation, I’d hold her hands to my face, look deep in her blue eyes, and tell her she was it for me

  Chapter Four

  Abigail

  A week later

  I closed my textbook and lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling and contemplating if I should call Max and see if he wanted to do something, maybe grab a pizza and watch a movie. Or maybe I should just call it a night and go to bed early.

  The last week of school, the last seven days of college, I’d been overwhelmed with sensory overload that I was surprised I actually enjoyed. The stress of everything new, all the people crowding the halls, the intensity of the classes, was so different than high school. And I was surprised I actually really liked it.

  The workload from the classes, the fact that I felt like everything was getting thrown at me at once, was intimidating, but I liked the challenge. The only thing that seemed to overpower everything else on my mind was the fact that I couldn’t stop worrying about the “what ifs” where Max was concerned.

  He was so patient and kind, never rushing or pressuring me. He knew I needed to do things on my own, had to figure things out myself. He was always in my mind. Always. A part of me did worry it would cause a rift in our friendship, but I refused to not have him in my life. We were meant to be together, even if that was just platonic.