 by T.O. Smith.jpg)
Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 139803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 699(@200wpm)___ 559(@250wpm)___ 466(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 699(@200wpm)___ 559(@250wpm)___ 466(@300wpm)
But everything changed when I met him.
We were toxic. God only knew why we loved each other so much.
He was part of my downfall.
But them together?
They'll be my salvation.
Because I'm Julian's goddess, and I'm Axel's fighter.
I bleed brown and blue.
My name is Meghan Fallows.
And this is my painful, yet beautifully tragic story.
Trigger warnings: miscarriage, self-harm, drug abuse, mental health illnesses such as depression, anxiety, and nervous breakdowns, mfm menage (two men sharing one woman)
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
1
I tapped my pencil on the table in front of me in boredom, a sigh of irritation slipping past my lips. I was in my last class of the day, and it was dragging, to put it mildly. I had already stopped taking notes, completely zoning out from the lecture as I fought to keep my eyes open. I knew the professor posted all of his power points online. Honestly, I could pass the class with an A without ever dragging my lazy ass to the lecture hall, but he was one of those picky professors that graded his students on attendance as well.
So, unfortunately, I had to come to class if I wanted to continue passing. Attendance was a huge part of our final grade.
I leaned back in my seat, my eyes landing on Julian Markos almost subconsciously. He was the school’s star senior quarterback. Julian would be graduating this year, but instead of going into a job that would be in the field he had majored in, he was going pro.
Rumors had it all over the country that he would be the next Tom Brady. I had seen him play, and I knew the rumors to be true. He was a God on the football field. He owned it. It seemed when he played, the wind favored him. I hadn’t seen him struggle once.
And off the field? Julian Markos was every woman’s fantasy. His olive-toned skin was covered in black tattoos. I was pretty sure there wasn’t a hint of color on his body. Inky black hair always sat in a messy array of curls that made you want to sink your fingers into the soft depths—maybe even tug.
But those eyes he had? They were such a startling shade of blue—so blue that when he focused them on you, it momentarily rendered you speechless.
I snapped out of my daze when everyone suddenly began to get out of their seats, blocking my view of Julian. With a thankful sigh that class was finally over, I grabbed my already packed bag off the floor and quickly began making my way to the exit, wanting nothing more than to get out of that classroom so I could go practice for my dance routine tomorrow that I would be performing at half-time.
This was my one chance to impress a scout and possibly be given a shot to dance professionally. It was my biggest dream—had been since I’d found an escape in letting my body go, just focusing on the movement of my body.
My best friend, who was also my dance partner when I needed to practice, was waiting outside of the lecture hall for me. He nodded once in greeting to Julian, who I hadn’t even realized was right behind me. I quickly moved to stand beside Vincent.
“Ready for the game tomorrow night?” Julian’s deep voice rumbled from behind me.
Chills of awareness raced down my spine, and my body flushed at the sound of his voice.
Was it normal for a man to have such an effect on me?
“Always,” Vincent easily replied as he protectively draped an arm around my shoulder. “I’ll be at the field in a few for practice. I just need to walk her to dance,” he informed the quarterback.
Julian looked down at me, a smirk twisting his lips as he ran his eyes over me. He looked extra sinful today. His black hair was messily hanging over his forehead, obviously in need of a cut, and his striking blue eyes seemed to suck me right into the depths of his soul.
“Yeah, she looks like the ballerina type,” he mocked.
Fuck you.
I instantly bristled, all of the lust I had been feeling completely gone. How dare he assume I was a ballerina? I wasn’t a ballerina. I was a fucking hip-hop dancer. I fucking hated it when people assumed just because I danced that I was a fucking ballerina. Don’t get me wrong; I had nothing against them. They could do things I’d never be able to, but we were two totally different types of dancers.
Julian smirked down at me, amusement ringing in his blue eyes. I scowled, but my annoyance only seemed to amuse him further.
Without another word, Julian turned on his heel, his large, muscular body moving down the hallway. “What an asshole,” I seethed, forcing my hands to relax at my sides when I realized I’d had them clenched.
Vincent laughed softly as he began to lead me in the opposite direction that Julian went. “You ready for tomorrow night?” he asked me.
I blew out a nervous breath, thinking of the dance I would have to put on tomorrow. “No,” I confessed. Vincent gently squeezed my shoulders. “I’m extremely nervous. There will be recruiters from professional dance companies out there,” I reminded him. “My future is on the line here. This is practically a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.” As my dance teacher continuously reminded all of us.