Read the first chapter of Yours

 Read the first chapter from Yours below. Out 16 September

The blurb:

“If you’re not in love with Matt, then you must be in love with me.”

Lewis Green has his world ripped apart on the eve of the opening of his best friend’s bookstore. Matt Harmon’s almost killed in a car accident on his way to the launch and Lewis doesn’t know if he’ll survive. In his hour of need, he turns to his other friend, Nick, for solace.

Nick might work for Matt, but they haven’t always seen eye to eye. He’s not afraid to voice his opinion on the cold, self-interested Matt to Lewis and it causes untold friction. Nick can’t understand why Lewis and Matt are so close, but the idea that Matt might not survive and the effect it will have on Lewis, is too horrific to contemplate. Nick will do whatever it takes to be there for Lewis and see him through the darkest time in his life.

The two grow closer than they ever have and suddenly, things become confusing and both men start to question what they always thought they knew.

Possible Spoilers:

Themes: Bisexual awakening, hurt/comfort, angst, friends to lovers

Genre: Contemporary romance

Warnings: Violence and strong language. Sexual scenes. Homophobia. PTSD.

 The story is a prequel/companion piece to Heal Me and best read after Heal Me for maximum enjoyment.

Buy here

Chapter One

Harmon’s was heaving with guests, the air con working overtime as the packed bodies mingled between the book shelves and the heady smell of success laced the air. A palpable sense of anticipation was turning to frustration, though, at the late arrival of the guest of honor.

Matthew fucking Harmon. Late to his own opening night.

Lewis Green huffed a sigh, catching the eye of Nick Carter, Matt’s manager and general overseer. Nick had done all the work here, and that pissed Lewis off even more when Matt was going to climb out of that fucking Lamborghini outside any minute and swan in, making an entrance like only he could, having every woman in the place creaming themselves over him and fighting to take him home. Yeah, Matt knew just what to do.

But he was really late. Later than he’d ever been for anything before. Far too late to be doing this deliberately, right? Unease swam through Lewis. He looked at Nick again. He and Nick were tight, had been for a while since he’d worked for Matt. Nick was done up like a dog’s dinner that night. He looked fucking amazing. He was a lean, toned kind of guy, maybe six-one to Lewis’ five-eleven, no spare fat on him anywhere thanks to his work-out regime, and a six-pack to die for. Lewis could take or leave the gym. He had a tendency to run to fat though if he shirked exercise and Nick helped and encouraged him with that. His favorite thing was to go running with Nick, who never laughed at his poor stamina and only encouraged. He noticed women admiring Nick, and why not? He had dark hair, slicked back that night, and grey eyes that shifted to blue depending on the light. He wore a black suit and a crisp white shirt with a lilac tie. He was the best looking guy in the place and Lewis only realized he was staring when Nick smiled at him. Their gazes held.

Nick worked hard and played harder. Nights out with him were a riot. He talked to women, and he took them home or took their number if they hit it off, but it wasn’t a big deal for him. It didn’t seem to be the reason why he went out. Whereas with Matt, it was his end game. From the moment he stepped foot into a bar, he was cruising, assessing every woman, grading them. Once he found someone willing to go home with him with minimal fuss, he ditched his friends and disappeared. He treated it so seriously, like it was the most important thing in his life. Lewis imagined him to be cold and clinical in bed too. While Matt was blessed with great beauty and usually had his pick of women—although he had a type, slim brunettes with boyish haircuts—Lewis doubted his ability to show anyone a good time other than himself. Sometimes he texted Matt deliberately to see where he was up to in his seduction game after he had left their group. On several occasions, Matt had replied to the text—sent within an hour of him leaving—to say he was home. What did he do? Throw the woman to the nearest horizontal surface and stick it in, then walk out the door? Sometimes Lewis asked Matt if he was seeing his conquest again. Matt would look at him in horror like he was suggesting they get married.

He couldn’t imagine Nick to be a poor lover. He was so warm and charming, the life and soul of the party. If he spoke to a woman in a bar, he included all his friends and hers. She and her friends might be with them for the night, and there was no undercurrent of pressure for her to go home with Nick, no touches, no lingering glances. Lewis didn’t usually know if Nick liked a woman or not, or if he was just being friendly, the way he was with everyone. Sometimes when Lewis had asked him why he hadn’t taken the woman he’d been talking to all night home, Nick had looked at him in surprise and told him it hadn’t been like that at all, and she wasn’t his type. He was just talking. Which was where he differed from Matt. Matt wouldn’t know how to talk to a woman as a friend without attempting to get into her panties. He didn’t have female friends. Lewis felt sorry for him. It seemed his upbringing had left him unable to relate to the opposite sex in the right way. And Lewis handled a lot of cases involving injustice against women in his law practice. It made him sensitive and understanding. Matt knew he disapproved of his behavior. It wasn’t like Lewis didn’t have one-night stands, of course he did, but he didn’t go about it the way Matt did. He didn’t show such a lack of respect for his partners. He behaved more like Nick, who loved and respected women. Lewis wasn’t sure Matt cared about anyone, male or female. Apart from Lewis himself.

Nick strode across the room.

“Where is he?” Lewis barked. “What the fuck is he playing at?”

Nick shrugged, laid back even in the face of Matt’s games. “You know what he’s like.”

“Yeah, I do, but Nick, he’s never this late for anything. I’ll call him now. I should have called him before.” He pulled his cell out and connected to Matt’s number. He expected it to be answered immediately, to hear the roar of the Lamborghini’s engine as Matt sped into town. But it didn’t even ring. There was only silence. Lewis frowned. He cut the call and tried again. The same thing happened. He stared at Nick. “It’s not connecting.”

“What? Let me try.” Nick pulled out his phone. He thumbed a few buttons and held it to his ear. Then he looked at Lewis. “Must be a bad signal.”

“I have full signal.”

“Maybe he hasn’t.”

Lewis eyed Nick in consternation. Something tightened his stomach.

“Don’t look like that,” Nick said.

“Something’s happened to him.”

“No,” Nick said and his eyes warned Lewis not to get carried away.

“He’s almost an hour late, Nick!”

Nick sighed. He pushed a hand through his hair. “Right, I’ll make some calls.” He wandered off, jabbing buttons on his cell.

Who was he calling? The hospitals? The police? Lewis shifted from foot to foot. He hurried to the door and went out onto the sidewalk, looking up and down Main street. A group of people stood there drinking the free champagne, some of them smoking. He expected to see the Lamborghini appear at any moment and a smirking Matt leap from it in a thousand-dollar suit with insincere apologies.

Then Nick came rushing out of the bookstore and when Lewis saw the look on his face, his legs almost buckled.

“What?” he cried, grabbing Nick’s arms. “What?”

Nick put his hands on his shoulders. He drew him away from the group of people. “Stay calm.”

“What’s happened, Nick? He’s been in an accident, hasn’t he?”

Nick sighed. He pushed Lewis against the wall, holding his shoulders hard, standing close to him as though he knew how jelly-like Lewis’ legs had become. “Richard’s sister just called him.” His voice was low. Richard was Matt’s deputy manager and was inside the shop, waiting like everyone else. “The highway into town’s closed. She saw Matt’s car. It’s wrecked.”

Lewis let loose a howl of pain that sounded like nothing that had ever come out of his mouth before. He broke free of Nick and stalked across the sidewalk blindly, holding his head. Nick chased him, grabbing him again, forcing him to a halt. “No jumping to conclusions. Not until we know.”

Lewis gasped for breath. He whimpered, his eyes flooding with tears. Nick clasped his face in his hands, their noses almost touching. “Breathe,” he said.

Lewis closed his eyes. Tears spilled down his cheeks.

“Come on,” Nick said, his voice low. “Keep it together.” His fingers stroked Lewis’ cheeks. “I need to call the hospital.”

Lewis stepped back with a nod, rubbing an embarrassed hand over his face, gritting his teeth. Nick had never seen him cry. He grabbed his hand. He pulled him further down the sidewalk and into the shade of a doorway, thumbing his phone. They stood pressed together. Lewis looked down at their joined hands as Nick spoke into the phone. They had never touched this way before.

“Hi, I’m looking for a friend of mine, Matthew Harmon. We heard he might have been in an accident on the highway.” Nick listened to the tinny voice while Lewis stood there shivering, suddenly cold in the mild winter air. “Okay, right. So we could come down, see if it’s him? Okay, right, thanks.”

Nick hung up. Lewis shook at the look in his eyes. “They’ve sent the helicopter out to a crash. They don’t have any details on casualties.”

“Oh God.” Lewis started to sob.

“Hey.” Nick put both arms around him. “If the helicopter’s going out, he’s alive, all right?”

Lewis dropped his face to Nick’s shoulder and held him hard.

They didn’t speak during the ride to the hospital. Nick had only had one glass of champagne, so he drove, with Lewis beside him. Nick rested a hand on Lewis’ knee from time to time, squeezing gently. Lewis appreciated the touch. As they neared the hospital, he put his hand on top of Nick’s and their eyes met briefly before Nick focused on the road again. As they drew into the hospital grounds, lights lit up the car and a loud whirring noise sounded above them. Nick and Lewis craned their necks through the windscreen. They saw a helicopter coming in to land on the roof and Lewis felt his stomach drop. He grabbed for the door handle the moment Nick pulled up in front of the emergency department, jumping out before the car had even stopped. He ran, leaving Nick behind.

The emergency department had a few sad-looking stragglers hanging around and the usual suspects of a Saturday night. Lewis ran for the desk and a woman with red hair and kind eyes smiled at him.

“My friend, he’s in the helicopter,” Lewis gasped out. “I think.”

She was calm and polite. “Okay, sir, let me just confirm any details and then you can book him in, if you will.” She picked up the phone and spoke quietly into the receiver. “Hi, Sheena, any details yet on the one coming down? Hmm, okay.” She scribbled on a pad. “Yes, I think I have his friend here. Okay, will do. Is he…?” Lewis’ stomach lurched. He thought he would be sick all over this woman’s shiny desk. “Okay, thanks.” She looked up at Lewis with a serious face. “What’s your friend’s name?”

Lewis swallowed. His heart beat hard against his ribs. She was going to say he was dead. That they had brought Matt’s broken dead body back from the crash site and Lewis could now go and ID him. “Matthew Harmon.”

She looked down at her pad. “Yes, that’s him. They ID’d him en route.”

Lewis stared at her with the bottom emptying out of his world. “Is he dead?”

“No,” she said. “Someone will come talk to you when they have him stable.”

Lewis let out his breath. He turned to see Nick beside him and threw his arms around him. “He’s alive, Nick. He’s alive.”

“Shh,” Nick said, stroking Lewis’ head. “It’s okay.”

The receptionist must have spoken to Nick, because Lewis heard him reply. “Yes. I’m not sure. Lewis, what’s his date of birth?”

Lewis pulled back to see the woman looking at them expectantly. He ran a hand over his eyes, tried to compose himself when he just wanted to cry and cry. “Er, ten July, eighty-six.”

He put his face back to Nick’s shoulder and left Nick to give Matt’s address. “Lewis,” he said, touching his head gently.  “Do you have a phone number for his parents? An address?”

God, Matt wouldn’t thank Lewis for getting his parents dragged down here but he nodded and eased himself away from Nick’s solid comfort to pull his cell from his pocket. He called up the number under Marcia Harmon. It’d been in his phone for years. “I don’t know if she might have changed it by now.”

“We’ll try it. And if not, if you have an address, we can send the police around.”

Lewis shivered at the thought of a police officer rapping on the door after nine at night to tell you your son was critically injured in an accident. Because he was critically injured, right? Helicopters didn’t go out to fender benders and whiplash. He clenched his fists, struggling to keep the tears at bay and recited Matt’s childhood address, hoping his parents hadn’t moved.

“Go take a seat.” Nick gestured and Lewis stumbled away to a plastic chair in the corner near the door and put his head in his hands.