Finding Dandelion (Dearest #2) Read online

  ABOUT THE BOOK

  When soccer all-star Jax Avery collides with Dani Hart on his twenty-first birthday, their connection is instantaneous and explosive. For the first time in years, Jax isn’t interested in his usual hit-it and quit-it approach.

  But Dani knows better. Allowing herself a night to be carefree and feel the intensity of their attraction won’t change anything when it comes to dealing with a player. So when Jax doesn’t recognize Dani the next time he sees her, it shouldn’t be a total shock. The fact that he’s her new roommate’s brother? That’s a shock.

  Dani doesn’t regret that night with Jax, just the need to lie about it. Since her roommate has made it clear what she thinks about her brother’s “type” of girl, the last thing Dani wants is to admit what happened.

  Jax knows he’s walking a fine line on the soccer team. One more misstep and he’s off the roster, his plans to go pro be damned. Except he can’t seem to care. About anything… except for the one girl who keeps invading his dreams.

  Despite Jax’s fuzzy memory of his hot hookup with his sister’s friend, he can’t stay away from her, even if that means breaking his own rules. But there are bigger forces at work–realities that can end Dani’s college career and lies that can tear them apart. Jax realizes what he’s losing if Dani walks away, but will he sacrifice his future to be with her? And will she let him if he does?

  Finding Dandelion, the second book in the Dearest series, is a stand-alone novel. This New Adult romance is recommended for readers 18+ due to mature content.

  ORDER OF BOOKS:

  Dearest Clementine, #1

  Finding Dandelion, #2

  Kissing Madeline, #3 (Expected publication: late 2014)

  FINDING DANDELION

  LEX MARTIN

  Finding Dandelion Copyright © 2014 by Lex Martin

  All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced or transmitted in any capacity without written permission by the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  This New Adult contemporary romance is recommended for readers 18+ due to mature content.

  Copy editing by RJ Locksley

  Cover design by Twin Cove Design

  Cover image © Shutterstock.com/Linda Moon

  ISBN 978-0-9915534-1-9

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Prologue

  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

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Epilogue

  To My Readers

  Kissing Madeline

  Dearest Clementine

  Acknowledgments

  Contact Lex

  Preview of Deep Blue by Jules Barnard

  To Matt & my little bears

  “If you don’t fight for what you love, don’t cry for what you lose.”

  - Anonymous

  PROLOGUE

  - Dani -

  Goosebumps line my skin as Travis threads his fingers through mine. Closing my eyes, I brace myself.

  “You sure you want to do this, Dani?” He sounds nervous even though he’s the one who sold me on the idea in the first place. “It’s going to hurt. A lot.”

  Brady laughs. “Man, don’t scare her.”

  Brady is hot, all ridges and taut muscles and menacing tattoos, and I know he’s staring down at my naked back right now. He’s so out of my league.

  Of course this is the only way I’d get a guy like that to touch me.

  Swallowing, I nod and clutch my shirt to my chest. “Let’s do this. I’m not chickening out.”

  I’ve done my homework, researched optimal positioning, pain, methods, everything. Now I just have to take the plunge. This is going to be my year of firsts.

  “That a girl. I promise I’ll be gentle.” Brady moves away from me, and the buzzing starts and stops.

  Travis’s grip tightens as he leans down and whispers, “If your mother knew you were doing this, she’d kill me.”

  I yank my hand from his and swat my best friend. “What’s the matter with you? Now is not the time to talk about my mother.”

  A black gloved hand runs across my shoulder as Brady lowers the strap on my lacy, black bra. Hell, yes, I wore my sexy underwear.

  He lowers his voice. “This is going to be cold.”

  All of my muscles tense, and he chuckles.

  “Honey, relax. This isn’t my first time.” Brady’s voice is sultry and deep, sending chills across me. He rubs my skin slowly, the smell of alcohol thick in the air. “I’ll take good care of you. What’s in your head is worse than the reality. Trust me. It’ll hurt at first, but you’ll get used to it, and you’ll only be sore for a couple of days.”

  Shit. I’m really going through with this.

  I glance over my shoulder and look him in the eye. Brady smiles, and butterflies swirl in my stomach. He presses a finger into my trapezius muscle. “Right here?”

  Nodding, I close my eyes and rest my chin on the back of the chair.

  “This is beautiful, by the way.” He taps on the translucent piece of paper.

  “It’s the North Star. To help me find my way.” I say this more for myself.

  Brady presses the paper against me and rubs. Then the buzzing starts again, and the needle cuts into my skin.

  CHAPTER ONE

  (Three weeks later)

  - Dani -

  My fingertip traces the lines on my shoulder where my tattoo sits, muscle memory taking my hand to the axis where North and South intersect and where I hope to find balance. A mooring. Some stability.

  I can feel it in my bones. Hope. A smile tilts my lips as I start to buy into my pep talk.

  My smile grows… until my new co-worker drops a stack of work in front of me.

  Laura gives me an empty smile. “I already have plans this weekend, so I’m leaving this for you. As the marketing major, this should be right up your alley, right?”

  Our junior year of college hasn’t started yet, and she’s already bailing on me. Biting my cheek, I reach around to re-stack the documents.

  Laura and I are Professor Zinzer’s new assistants. We’ll be coordinating all of the other work-study students in the art lab this fall while we prep materials for his classes. He always takes on one art student and one business st
udent to manage his office. Because my best friend Travis had Zinzer last semester, I got the inside track on this gig and beat out dozens of other business applicants.

  I tuck the pile of work into my messenger bag, not bothering to smile.

  “Zin needs it by Monday,” she chirps.

  In other words, he needs it the Monday of Labor Day weekend. My jaw tightens.

  Laura doesn’t look even remotely guilty for dumping this on me. As she tosses her hair over her shoulder, she says, “Thanks, Dani.” Her not-so-subtle appraisal of me makes me squirm. “You’re so… nice.”

  If I were a cartoon, steam would be pouring from my ears. I’ve never hated a word so much in my life. If one more person tells me I’m nice, I’m going to lose it.

  Nice gets me dumped on. Pushed around. Ignored.

  When I was a kid, I thought I merely had manners. What the hell is wrong with being polite? But now I see this characteristic doesn’t cut it in Boston where everyone is so much edgier. The Midwest is just a friendlier place. In Chicago, when someone runs into you, the person says, “Excuse me.” Here, I get cursed at or shoved. I’ve gotten used to this faster pace of life, but it doesn’t diminish the fact that I can be such a goddamn pushover.

  My mother would tell me to “fuck nice.” I chuckle to myself. She has a mouth that’s worse than half the frat boys at this school.

  I guess that’s what happens when you almost die of angiosarcoma.

  The laughter withers on my lips, and I blink back the sudden onslaught of emotion that comes whenever I think of my mom. She fought like hell to survive, even after she lost all of her hair and both breasts. And she beat it. For now at least.

  By the time I get to my dorm suite, I’m still wrestling with what I wish I had told Laura. Why can’t I find the words when I’m in the moment? As I stare at the pile of work that sits near the edge of my desk, a tight ball of frustration coils in my stomach. I’m going to be holed up all weekend preparing my professor’s brochures instead of unpacking.

  My eyes drift to the wall of boxes in the small room I’m sharing with a girl I met last semester. Jenna is a riot. We took a sociology class together. It was such a snooze that to entertain ourselves, we’d write pervy notes to each other to see who could make the other laugh. She always won. And, yeah, my professor hated me. But, come on—when Jenna wrote, “I wanna choke on your thick man-slinky,” I couldn’t help but bust out laughing.

  Her Southern drawl and perfect blonde hair throws you off. First you think she might be a really uptight biatch, but then she slings an arm around you and acts like she’s known you for ages. I’m not totally sure how she’s BFFs with our other roommate, though. I’ve only met Clem once, but the girl is a glacier. Hello, she rolled her eyes at me when I asked if she liked The Vampire Diaries.

  On my way out the door to run a few errands, I pause in front of a mirror to smooth back my long hair. My reflection reminds me of my mother. Everyone tells me I look exactly like her when she was young. I have big green eyes, pale skin, and dark brown hair except for the swaths of pink I dyed last month, and thanks to Victoria’s Secret, I have a few well-placed curves.

  Opting to skip any makeup, I grab my jacket and head out.

  The train ride is quick, and when I step out into the bright afternoon sun, I have to shield my eyes. As I wait for the light to change so I can cross the street, I find myself staring at a guy trying to get what must be ten pizza boxes through the door of a restaurant a few feet away. I walk over and grab the handle to hold it open. Out of the corner of my eye, I see blonde hair streak across the restaurant a second before I hear the girl giggle.

  “Hope you and your friends can handle all this pizza,” she says, all breathy. I don’t know if she’s trying to be sexy or if she’s out of breath from doing the fifty-yard dash to talk to him.

  I roll my eyes while I stand there, still opening the door. The guy’s shoulder presses up against the pane of glass, and he laughs.

  “I’m sure we can handle it. Thanks, uh—”

  “Tamara.”

  “Thanks, Tamara.”

  Through the glass, I see her wave a piece of paper. “Here, call me if you decide you need an extra mouth for all that… food.” The way she says “mouth” tells me she is not talking about the pizza. Gross.

  Her silhouette disappears briefly on the other side of him. His hands are on the tower of pizzas, and I don’t see him reach for the paper, but then his back arches like he’s surprised.

  When she steps back, her hands are empty. Okay, I think she just shoved her number into the pocket of this guy’s jeans.

  All righty.

  He clears his throat. “Yeah, thanks, doll,” he says to the blonde.

  When he steps back onto the sidewalk, I get my first good look at him. He’s wearing aviators, so I can’t see his eyes, but the rest of him is all kinds of sexy. Tall and lean. Skin the color of light caramel like he’s been out in the sun. Brownish-blond hair tousled in a devil-may-care kind of way. His biceps, which are corded in muscle, pull at his t-shirt, and I can’t help but stare.

  An SUV pulls up behind me, and a guy shouts, “Hurry the hell up, Jax. I’m not going to circle the block again.”

  Jax laughs and turns slightly. He finally sees me and tilts his head. He clears his throat again.

  “Sorry. I’m being an ass, blocking the doorway.”

  I blink.

  He smiles down at me, and I think the heavens part because he’s so damn beautiful it hurts to look at him, but before I can get the courage to say something, anything, his friend honks. Jax looks to the SUV and then back to me, smiles again, and walks away.

  Ugh! The next time a drop-dead-gorgeous slab of man talks to me, it would be nice to use words.

  CHAPTER TWO

  - Jax -

  Music blares on the stereo behind me, but I’m too tired from this afternoon’s workout to lean over and turn it down. I look across the room and snicker. “Dude, your sister is drunk.”

  Sammy is slouched in the chair with her Magic 8 Ball, staring at it like it has all the answers. Her brother Nick, my roommate, barely spares a glance in her direction before he goes back to his cards. “Don’t even think about fucking my sister, Jax.”

  I punch him in the arm. “You’re an asshole. You know there are two kinds of girls I never touch—little sisters and roommates.”

  Nick’s eyebrow lifts. “I’ve seen your sister’s roommates. You’ve never gotten any of that action?”

  “Are you kidding? She’d chop up my balls and shove them down my throat if I ever got close to one of them. She’s a little protective.” If nothing else, my twin is fierce.

  I don’t mention that whole fiasco freshman year.

  Sammy laughs hysterically at nothing in particular and shakes her Magic 8 Ball. “Is there one guy out there who will love me forever?” She peers into the black triangle at the bottom of the ball. Her face lights up as she reads, “It is decidedly so.”

  Rolling my eyes, I take a long pull from my beer and scroll through the texts on my phone. Kelly, Jamie, Emma. They’re hot. Katie. Lanie. They’re hotter.

  My mind wanders to the girl outside the pizza parlor, the one who held the door open for me this afternoon. I don’t know why I’m thinking about her. She was beautiful but looked young without any makeup. Kind of innocent and wide-eyed.

  Not my type.

  I’m debating the larger questions in life, like breast size, but the water sloshing around in that dumb ball distracts me from planning my weekend. I point the neck of the bottle in her direction. “Sam, I hate to break it to you, but that’s all crap. I hope you know that ’cause I like you too much to let you think there’s one perfect guy out there.” Nick’s little sister is a senior in high school, and she’s a pretty little thing, but she needs to wise up or some dick like me will break her heart. Only it won’t be me.

  She ignores my comment and shakes the ball. “Is there one perfect girl out there for Jax Avery who
will help him get past his man-whoring ways?” She narrows her eyes as she reads the message that floats to the top. “It is decidedly so.”

  Nick barks out a laugh. “How much did you drink? Dad is going to kick my ass if you go home tomorrow with a hangover.” He goes back to his hand and murmurs, “’Cause you’d have to be drunk if you think that’s in the cards for Jax.”

  Sammy hiccups and then groans like it hurt. She turns to me. “Doesn’t it feel empty? Don’t you want something with meaning?”

  This girl needs to stop watching so many chick flicks.

  I take another drink. “It has meaning. It means I get laid with no strings. That’s a beautiful thing.”

  She makes a face like I just took a crap on her dinner. I don’t have the energy to explain why relationships are such a bad idea, but if she were to take a two-minute look at my parents, she’d be on my side.

  I reach over for a slice of pizza and ignore the hollowness in my chest. “What time is our team meeting tomorrow?”

  Nick squints at me. “It’s at three, but you should get there early. I hear Coach Patterson is a hardass.”

  “I can handle it.” I continue scrolling through my phone, contemplating how to spend the next twenty-four hours before soccer completely consumes my life. I’m thinking Katie tonight and maybe Lanie tomorrow afternoon.

  As I’m about to look up Katie’s number, my screen lights up. Natasha. Even better. We’re friends with benefits. Minus the friends part.

  “What are you doing tonight?”

  Smiling, I write back. “Making you scream my name as I fuck you senseless.”

  Not a minute goes by before she responds. “Perfect. I’ll be by in twenty.”

  Sammy sighs at me from across the table like she knows what I’m planning. “Some day, a girl is going to kick you on your ass, Jax. I hope I’m here to see it.”

  Why is a teenager lecturing me about my sex life? “In your dreams, kid. I don’t get attached.”