You know the old adage “if you love something, set it free?”
It’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.
The dumbest thing I’ve ever done.
I loved her. I lost her. Hell, I let her go. And then spent five miserable years without her.
To cope with the loss, I put pen to paper and wrote her a love story, knowing when she was ready she’d hear the words I couldn’t say all those years ago.
Turned out, not only would she hear them, but when Hollywood came calling, I made sure she got the lead role. After all, no one else could portray the character whom she’d inspired.
Now she’s within arms’ reach and finally, she’ll know the truth in my heart.
Because that other cliché, “Actions speak louder than words?”
I’m going to prove it.
My words may have brought Ava Banks back into my life; I have to be enough to make her stay.
The air around us was silent save for the crickets chirping off in the distance. The cool Cincinnati breeze nipped at my skin while I waited for his reaction. When I’d started writing this novel, it had been an ode to my past love. My past life. But then it’d taken on a life of its own and become so much more. Which had made it that much more poignant. That much harder to fathom the one word that’d been haunting me for years.
At long last, he turned to the final page and sucked in a breath. My stomach twisted in knots because he was about to read the end. And I didn’t know how he’d interpret it. Half scared he’d tell me that I’d lost my mind and no one would ever want to read this story, especially with that ending.
He didn’t make me wait long. As his head slowly rose, I was taken aback at the tears shining in his usually cheerful eyes. This man, who had always been like a second father to me, had been reduced to tears by my words. My words. Words we both knew for whom they were meant. And, instead of calling me a fool or attempting to kill me, he watched me with tearful appreciation, switching between nodding and shaking his head as if trying to process it all.
I didn’t know how to react, so I simply stared at him, waiting for him to say something. Anything.
He closed the manuscript and set it on the table in front of us before taking a long swig from his whiskey glass. I followed suit and enjoyed the smoky burn that did little to soothe my nerves.
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, his eyes locking in on mine. “Tucker. You did it. You fucking did it,” he whispered, seemingly unashamed of his emotional display.
I nodded, the same emotion welling up inside me when I remembered the ending of my first novel. So many love stories begin with the girl who got away. Mine wasn’t any different. Not only in my novel, but in real life as well. Ava Banks was, and always would be, that girl for me. But, instead of slipping through my fingers, she’d made the conscious decision to leave. And, like most dumbass men, I’d let her. Hell, I’d pushed her away. I’d regretted it ever since.
But, now, I was hoping like hell I could get the second chance Trevor did. Hoping like hell my story would turn out differently than his. But, either way, I was putting myself out there, as terrifying as that was. She finally, finally would hear the words I couldn’t say all those years ago.
Now, I just had to wait to see what she’d do about it.
Tessa Teevan is a twenty-something book junkie who is also obsessed with sports. Bengals, Buckeyes, Reds are who she spends her time rooting for. She’s a research analyst by day, reads/writes by night, and is married to a guy 15 inches taller than her, making them quite the pair! They currently reside just outside of Dayton, OH with two adorably grumpy cats.
If she’s not writing or scouring through tons of photos of hot men, all in the name of research, then you can probably find her curled up with her Kindle, ignoring the rest of the world. She loves her sports almost as much as she loves her books. Her other obsessions include red wine, hot men, rock music, and all things Corey Taylor.
She adores hearing from readers, so please feel free to contact via any social media site listed below.