Myself (Selfish Series, #2) Read online

  MYSELF

  By: Shantel Tessier

  When I saw you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew.

  - William Shakespeare

  MYSELF

  Copyright © 2017 by Shantel Tessier

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  For more information about the author and her books, visit her website- www.shanteltessierauthor.com. You can sign up for her newsletter on her website, or you can click on the link below. The newsletter is the only place to get exclusive teasers, first to know about current projects and release dates. And also have chances to win some amazing giveaways- http://goo.gl/4wd9CV

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  DEDICATION

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  TO BE CONTINUED...

  BONUS SCENE FROM SELFLESS!

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  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  DEDICATION

  For those who never give up on love, this one is for you. It’s okay to be selfish.

  PROLOGUE

  BECCA

  Sit down!

  Shoulders back!

  Chin up!

  Ankles crossed!

  That’s what I heard when I was younger. The older I got, the more rules I had.

  Always smile! A man won’t like you if you’re frowning. Chew with your mouth closed. Don’t let your teeth scrape across your fork. Never leave the house without makeup and your hair fixed.

  And those were mainly common sense. But I found myself trapped so many times. Ever seen Titanic? Yeah, I felt like Rose almost every day of my life. I never contemplated jumping off the back of an ocean liner, but then again, we’ve never been on one crossing the North Atlantic. Instead, I spent time in my bedroom crying into my pillow. Or sitting in the shower with the water running.

  My days were full of nothing but one lesson after another. I would go to school and then go straight home for my piano lesson. Then I had to go to the country club for my tennis lessons, followed by violin lessons. Monday, Thursday, and Saturday, I had ballet. By the time I would arrive home, it would be late, and I would need to do my homework and try to fit in something for dinner.

  I know what you’re thinking—aww, poor girl. You had it so rough—sarcasm. But as if that wasn’t enough, my mother added etiquette classes two days a week because she wanted me to be a respected debutant. Your life did not have a purpose unless you married a man with money. It didn’t matter to her that I already had my own. I would receive my trust fund at twenty-five unless I married before then—stipulations and all that.

  My brother and I attended a prestigious school in New York. And while attending, I had to take a different foreign language each year. I’m not gonna lie; I barely passed them. I didn’t understand why I had to learn Latin. I mean it’s a dead language. My mother said that a man likes a well-versed woman, and when he travels for business, knowing the language will make me look like more than just a trophy wife.

  I have to admit that was the only thing I liked about all the shit she made me do. And I know why she pushed it. She is a trophy wife. The truth is my father knocked up my mother, and they got married. Six months later, my brother was introduced to the world. I came seven years after that. The older I got, the more I thought I was the baby supposed to save their marriage. I’m not sure it helped.

  My father came from money, and my mother met him one night while out with friends. She says it was at a Christmas Gala, but you can’t believe much of what she says. She’ll never admit it. She wants all her wealthy friends to think that she came from wealth as well.

  I’ve heard her lie to her friends to make her stories paint her in a better light. Like that one time, I placed fifth in a spelling bee, and she told all her friends I had come down with the flu and wasn’t able to attend at all. Yeah, she wasn’t one of those parents who gave you a pat on the back and said good job even though you sucked. You were lucky if she even showed up and she would voice that to you afterward.

  Nannies raised me. My mother was always busy with her friends, and my father did nothing but work. For being seven years apart, my brother and I were close. He tried to be there as often as he could, but seven years’ difference is a lot. When he went off to college, leaving me behind, I felt so alone. I missed him so much. But I understood why he had to go. He’s so much like my father—living and breathing his job. And he plans to take over the company one day. Honestly, I left the first chance I got.

  I wasn’t the kid who got into trouble. I didn’t smoke or drink or even party all that much. My mother kept me from doing any of that with my busy schedule. But what killed me the most was a boy—Ryder’s best friend, Jaycent. I was obsessed with the man to the point it was borderline unhealthy. Like “buy all the teen magazines and rip his pictures out and pin them to my wall” unhealthy. It would have been easier had he been famous. At least then I would have had an excuse to crush on him.

  I’ll never forget the first time I realized I was in love with him. I was eleven. He was eighteen. I know how sick that must sound, but at that age, it wasn’t sexual for me. I didn’t even know what sex was until I was fifteen. Having no social life will do that to you. And back then, you didn’t have a small computer at your fingertips with unlimited internet access. You had to watch TV or actually experiment, and I did neither.

  Anyway, my parents were out of town, and my brother threw a party. It was something he did regularly, so it wasn’t anything new. But this party felt different. I was never officially invited to them. My brother would order pizza for me and tell me to watch a movie. But I had snuck out of my room this time. I walked down the long hall on the third floor and stopped at the corner before the grand staircase, peeking down at them drinking and dancing. I remember wanting to be them. Not necessarily the drinking part, but the free part. I wanted to let my hair down and dance. To put on something I wanted to wear for a change, put my hair up in a ponytail, and bounce around like an idiot. I had never experienced that before, and they made it look so ... amazing.

  I found myself sitting on the staircase and smiling, my arms clenching my diary close to my chest. No one saw me—not like they would care even if they did. They had the lights dimmed, and the music turned up so loud, it carried to the higher stories. I searched the crowded room for the one face I couldn’t st
op dreaming of. Jaycent. He was always around. Night and day, he and my brother were inseparable. And I had a crush on him. A big one.

  When I finally spotted him, my smile grew bigger. He was standing by a big silver barrel with a red cup in one hand and a nozzle of some sort in the other. He was nodding his head as he poured some yellow liquid into the cup. When he was done, he brought it to his lips and took a drink.

  I placed my elbows on my knees and sighed. He wore black jeans and a white t-shirt underneath a gray pullover. His dark hair was long and pushed behind his ears. Light brown eyes and a smile that made me forget what I was thinking. He was gorgeous in every way.

  I sighed as I watched him drink then refill his cup. I wish I could go down there just to hang out with him. Even though I am younger, he has never treated me any differently. But Ry would be mad at me, so I stay where I am.

  I watch him for over an hour. He laughs and talks to everyone. He and Ryder are both very popular at school. They’re known for their parties.

  A woman comes up behind him as he is talking to my brother. I know who she is—Jasmine. It’s his new girlfriend; I overheard Ryder telling some girl he had over last week.

  She wraps her arms around his waist from behind, and he looks over his shoulder in surprise. My chest tightens as she leans up and kisses his cheek. But then I smile when he pulls away from her. Only to be crushed even more when he turns around to face her and takes her into his arms. She’s beautiful if you’re into perfection. Her bleach blond hair is long and her eyes blue. She looks like the Barbies I have in my room. I asked my mother if I could dye my hair, and she said no, that men prefer natural beauty over fake. I’m not so sure she is right, and I’m pretty sure she has had more work done than my Barbies.

  He leans down and kisses her, and I feel my throat close when his hands go to her butt. It hurts to see them together. It hurts to know she knows him in a way I don’t.

  He pulls away and slaps her on the butt before turning back to my brother. He laughs, and she goes back to standing behind him with her arms wrapped around his middle.

  I stare at the way his lips curve up, and my eyes start to sting. I don’t understand why I feel this way about him. I sniff and reach up to wipe my runny nose on my hand when he looks up. I freeze, and my breath gets stuck in my throat as his dark eyes meet mine.

  He holds them for a second, and Jasmine follows his line of sight. She narrows her eyes at me; she doesn’t like me being around them. She looks at me like a child, not one of them. I stand and spin around and run to my room before Ryder can see me, tossing my diary onto my bed.

  While I sat in my bathtub crying, I realized what I felt for him was love. It hurt so much. A physical pain that even though I couldn’t see, I thought it was going to make my heart explode. I also realized my age was gonna keep me from him. He didn’t feel the same for me. He wanted Jasmine, and I was just a little girl who couldn’t give him what he wanted, whatever that was. So I had to let go of that dream ever coming true.

  If only someone would have told me things would change when I turned eighteen, then maybe I would have realized that the true heartache was yet to come...

  CHAPTER ONE

  BECCA

  Have you ever felt lost? Like a decision you once thought was right somehow turned seriously wrong? Twenty-two years of my life and somehow, I still don’t understand how I ended up here—trapped and alone. Unable to breathe due to the fog being so thick. Unable to see a way out due to the darkness. How did I allow this to happen? How did I not see the signs before? Maybe I saw them but just chose to ignore them. Either way, I’ve buried myself.

  I want to change; take my life and do what I want. But I also feel like I’m in too deep. It’s one of those you made your bed so you gotta lie in it type of situations. I’d have to set fire to this bed in order to get that chance, and I’ve never been one to play with matches.

  Placing my forearms on the iron railing, I look over the rolling blue waves and sandy beach from my Panama hotel room. How peaceful it looks this morning. I remember my conversation with my best friend, Ashlyn, from yesterday while we sat down in the sand after we had arrived.

  “I wanna move here!” I sigh as I look at the waves rolling in just feet from us. I want to experience this feeling every day—calmness.

  “Let’s do it!” Ashlyn says without question.

  I look over at her as the wind blows my hair in my face. I wish I could be more like her; free. But some of us aren’t allowed to make our own decisions. Some are meant to follow the rules. I envy that about her. “You make it sound so easy,” I say and turn back to watch the ocean. The sun is starting to set on the horizon, and it makes the ocean look even more inviting. “You know our lives will never bring us to Florida. Not permanently anyway.”

  And that’s the truth. My life was mapped out before I was born. My mother wants what is best for me, or so she says. I may be twenty-two years old, but to her, I’m still twelve. And even now, she tries to control everything. I have big dreams, and she wants me to get married and have babies. Why work hard for something that a man can give you? She was talking about money. But I already have money, so I don’t need a man for that, but that doesn’t mean I want to be alone. Even though I’m in a relationship, I feel alone most of the time. He’s not there for me, not really. I’m with him out of guilt. I made a mistake, and now, I’m trying to make up for it.

  “Just fucking great.”

  I turn around to see Conner, the man himself, walk out of the sliding glass door onto the balcony. His dark hair is still wet from his shower, and a towel rides low on his hips. I look away from him; I’m unable to look him in the eyes without wanting to throw him off this balcony. The pain in my chest from last night still too fresh.

  I’m dancing on the dance floor at the coolest club I have ever been to in Panama. Minutes ago, foam fell from pipes in the ceiling, and I felt like I was in the middle of a giant washing machine. Ever stand back and watch all the foam stick to the inside of the door while washing your clothes? That’s how it looked, but only you could feel it. It was cool and light. But now, my clothes are soaked.

  I stop dancing and walk off the floor to go to the bar in search of Conner. He had left me what felt like thirty minutes ago to get another round of drinks. I place my forearms on the cool bar and push my finger through some of the foam that still covers it. The multicolor lights bounce off the countertop and the people around me.

  Looking around, I don’t see him and decide to go to the restroom. I walk toward the hallway and come to a stop in front of the women’s when I see the men’s open, and Conner walks out. “There you are,” I say with a smile. “Thought you were getting us drinks?” I ask.

  He nods as he zips up his pants. “Had to take care of something first.”

  I go to open my mouth when the men’s door opens once again, and a woman walks out. I frown; was she just in the men’s bathroom? I catch her eyes as she continues to walk by us, and she winks at me. My heart picks up, and I turn to face him. “What were you doing, Conner?” I demand.

  “What?” he asks, but I don’t miss that his dark eyes are on her ass as she walks off.

  “What the hell were you doing in there?” I growl, slapping his shoulder.

  “I had to go pee. What else would I be doing in the men’s bathroom?” His eyes finally land on mine, and they’re narrowed.

  I grind my teeth, knowing that he’s lying. Ever have a gut feeling that no matter how hard you try to deny it, you just can’t. It’s screaming at me. “You’re lying,” I say.

  “Excuse me?” he snaps over the music coming from the DJ on the other side of the club.

  “Why was that woman in there with you?” I cross my arms over my chest.

  “What woman?” he asks as if I’m blind.

  I roll my eyes. “Don’t play dumb, Conner. I saw her walk out after you.” I’m all but shouting.

  “And?”

  I gasp at his audacity. I can ta
ke a lot, but making me feel like an idiot is not one of them. “And I know she was in there with you! So what the hell were you doing?

  He leans down, getting inches from my face. “Quit making stuff up.” His breath hits my face, and he smells like tequila. I hate when he drinks tequila because it makes him want to fight—usually with some unlucky bastard who looks my way—but he very rarely wins. Guess tonight he is choosing to fight with me.

  “I’m not making shit up!” I yell, the people staring at me as they pass us to enter the restrooms. “I saw you.”

  “You saw nothing,” he shouts back.

  “You fucked her, didn’t you?” I come out and ask him. I wouldn’t normally be this blunt with him, but the alcohol I’ve consumed is making it hard to keep my mouth shut.

  He lets out a long breath. “Fuck, why do you always have to overreact?”

  I fist my hands down by my side in anger. “And why do you have to hurt me?” I demand as my eyes start to fill with tears. They’re angry tears.

  “I don’t hurt you! You hurt yourself because you are a crazy, jealous bitch, and I can’t do anything right. You always question everything that I do,” he spits, throwing his hands in the air.

  “That’s because you do some shady shit!” I scream.

  After what felt like thirty minutes of fighting inside the club, I had returned to our hotel room and took a hot shower and cried myself to sleep. I’m not sure what time he returned, but I know it was late.

  “What?” I ask flatly as I watch the people set up their umbrellas and beach towels for a nice relaxing day on the beach. Wish I could relax.

  “It’s going to fucking rain,” he growls, looking out at the dark clouds in the distance. They look terrifyingly dark but also beautiful in their own way. “I’m so sick and tired of fucking rain.” And with that statement, he turns and walks back into our hotel room.

  I hang my head and run a hand through my dark hair. I feel like Conner is drowning me. He was once someone I thought was the one. But slowly, over time, he has dragged me out to the deep end, and he just keeps pulling me under. And every time, I swallow more water. Eventually, I’m just gonna sink to the bottom and welcome the end. But why would I give him that satisfaction? That much credit? I am stronger than he is. I’ve spent my entire life being controlled, so I should be used to it by now.