Selfless (A Carolina Coastal Novel Book 1) Read online

  Selfless

  A Carolina Coastal Novel

  Kelsey Cheyenne

  Selfless © 2019 by Author Name. All Rights Reserved.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Cover designed by Net Hook & Line Design

  Editing by Your Editing Lounge

  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.

  Kelsey Cheyenne

  Visit my website at www.kelseycheyenne.com

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing: October 2019

  To everyone who’s lost someone too soon and found the courage to carry on.

  Contents

  Part One

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Part Two

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-One

  Thirty-Two

  Thirty-Three

  Thirty-Four

  Thirty-Five

  Thirty-Six

  Thirty-Seven

  Thirty-Eight

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  More by Kelsey

  Part One

  PRESENT

  One

  Carson

  “Did you know that babies are born with an innate sense of rhythm? They have this crazy instinct that allows them to respond to music.”

  “What?” I turn my head to glare at the crazy person who decided to occupy the seat beside me despite all the empty seats in the lecture hall. The guy is gorgeous and I’m regretting my harsh tone. His auburn hair is bed-head messy, but he makes it work. He has an air of preppy popularity around him, in a simple white tee under a navy bomber jacket. His black jeans form to his muscular legs, and now I’m starting to feel like a creep for checking him out.

  “Yeah, crazy, right? My kid is probably going to be dancing in the womb. You should see my moves. My dance skills could rival Michael Jackson.” His brown eyes light up as a pure smile spreads across his handsome face.

  “I’m Carson.” An easy smile forms on my lips and I extend my hand to the handsome stranger.

  “Hi, Carson. I’m Maddox.” His handshake is firm, like he’s treating me as an equal and not like a delicate flower, afraid I’ll break from a little pressure.

  “So what’s with the fun facts? Are you full of them or do you recycle the same one over and over again?”

  The classroom is filling up quickly and it’s my first class on my first day of college. I should be sitting front row and pulling out my syllabus to impress my professor.

  “I’m full of them. You’ll see.” He’s smug but not overly conceited. He has an attractive amount of cockiness that makes me weak in the knees.

  “Oh, will I? And why’s that?” I’ve never been a vixen or a sexpot. I’ve never been boy crazy or had a real boyfriend. Yet here I am, day one, fawning over a red-haired God.

  “Because every day I show up to class, I’m going to give you a fun fact.” He shrugs and a chuckle escapes me.

  Our professor walks in and for the first time in my life, I’m dreading school. I’d rather keep talking to my new friend.

  “That’s a relief. I thought you were going to say something utterly ridiculous, like, how we were going to end up together or something.” I toss my inky hair over my shoulder. Part of me wishes he did say something that ridiculous.

  “Well, we are, but I didn’t want to scare you away.” He winks and my cheeks heat.

  “Class, my name is Professor Ellar. Welcome to Psychology 101.”

  The next hour is painful as it passes. Every time Maddox moves in his seat, a whiff of his cologne assaults my nose. This is going to be a long semester with this guy sitting beside me.

  As I’m packing up my belongings, my classmate slips a piece of paper on my desk. “Here’s my number. If you want a daily dose of fun facts, feel free to text me. Or, you know, I’ll see you on Wednesday.” With a parting smile, he struts away and glances over his shoulder one last time as he goes.

  I head toward my next class, part of me hoping Maddox is in my major and we have more classes together. In the first eighteen years of my life, boys were irrelevant. Family came first, school second, and extracurriculars third. Now, I spend one day in college and I’m turning into a boy-crazy floozy.

  The day passes in a blur, and when I get home my mom is in the kitchen setting dinner on the table. I decided to go to a college close to home because I’m not ready to leave my safe haven quite yet.

  “Hi sweetie, how was your day?”

  Well, Mom, for the first time in my life, I wasn’t able to concentrate because I was too focused on a boy.

  Who am I kidding? My mom would be euphoric. She probably thinks I’m a lesbian with how unobsessed with boys I am.

  “It was…a lot to take in.” She nods and smiles. “I’m going to run my stuff up to my room.”

  “Grab your siblings for dinner.”

  Taking the steps two at a time, I drop my bag on the floor of my room. I continue down the hall, banging a fist on my brother, Lucas’s door first and my sister, Flynn’s door second. “Dinner’s ready.”

  Lucas is sixteen and spends all his time in his room or bathroom doing things I don’t want to think about. Flynn is in her prime of being a spoiled, bitchy teenager at thirteen thinking she’s the hottest thing since the surface of the sun.

  The three of us may look similar, but we couldn’t be more different. Where I’m the scholar, Lucas is the fearless pothead, and Flynn is the reckless rebel. She’s going to be one hell of a nightmare when she gets older, and I don’t think it’s a coincidence that my parents stopped having kids after her.

  I join my mom at the table downstairs just as my dad walks in the house and kisses her on the cheek before taking his briefcase to his office. I hit the parental lottery when I was born. Christopher and Alice Fletcher are sickeningly in love and more supportive than imaginable.

  I take my seat at the table, next to my dad’s chair, and wait for the rest of my family to join. Lucas trudges down the stairs with headphones in his ears, a permanent scowl, and a cloud of pot smoke circling him. Flynn looks like Jenny from Gossip Girl when she went batshit crazy and wore a pound of eyeliner.

  “How was your first day, angel?” My dad kisses the top of my head and takes his seat beside me.

  I open my mouth, but it’s not my voice that comes out. “Oh, Daddy, it was so wonderful. I spent all day in class, sucking up to my teachers and ignoring everyone my own age. I already got an A in all of my classes. It’s so good to be me!”

  Al
though my sister’s impression of me isn’t baseless, I don’t see the humor in her sarcasm. My brother chuckles, giving himself away that he’s not listening to anything, but is pretending to so he doesn’t have to socialize.

  “Flynn, don’t make fun of your sister.” My mom always plays bad cop when it comes to my baby sis. She’s a total Daddy’s girl and he can never discipline her.

  “It was good. My classes seem interesting, but I’m sure they’ll be tough.” I place some roast beef and potatoes on my plate before passing the dish to my brother.

  “Nothing my little girl can’t handle.” He’s right. I was valedictorian at graduation and am a political science and business major, following in his footsteps to hopefully go to law school in four years.

  We eat in near silence, with the occasional small talk sprinkled throughout. We’re a Leave it to Beaver family, but we’re happy, and that’s all that matters.

  After helping my mom with the dishes, I want to get a head start on the reading for the rest of my classes this week. I open up a textbook, but my mind keeps wandering back to my psych lecture and the handsome stranger sitting beside me.

  I dig into my pocket and pull out the tiny scrap of paper with a scribbled phone number. Before I think better of it, I type the number into my phone and shoot off a text.

  Carson: Hey, Maddox. It’s Carson from psych 101. I hope it’s okay I messaged you. I just forgot if we had any psych assignment for Wednesday.

  I place my phone upside down so I can’t see him respond to me. Even my text messages are immature and virginal. He probably just hoped I’d immediately text him a picture of my boobs.

  I force myself to keep reading and not stare at my iPhone, but my efforts are futile. There’s no way I’m getting anything done tonight with my mind this preoccupied.

  With a sigh, I climb off my bed and do my nightly routine. I take an extra-long shower and braid my hair before brushing my teeth and putting on my favorite cotton pajama set.

  I grab my phone—for no other reason than I need to set an alarm—and notice a text from my new friend.

  Maddox: I was wondering when you’d text me. Did you know colleges are considered one of the best places to flirt?

  Carson: Where do you come up with all your facts?

  The phone starts vibrating in my hand and I stare at it like I’m in a one-sided no-blinking contest. He’s calling me? Boys never call me. Well, to be fair, neither do girls. I never had many friends and certainly never anyone who I felt comfortable enough to talk to on the phone. It’s the twenty-first century. We should be limited strictly to texting.

  I glance over to make sure my door is shut and locked before sliding to the floor to take the call. For some reason, sitting on the floor gives me a peaceful sense of privacy against prying ears.

  “Um…hello?” I’m a squeaky, confused mouse. This will be the first and final time he calls me.

  Why am I such a freak?

  “I thought this would be easier than texting you all night.” His voice comes through the phone like hot caramel—sweet and tempting.

  “You think we’re going to be talking all night?” I’m incredulous which makes me sound lame. Why can’t I be sultry and seductive? I should call a sex hotline just to listen to and mimic their voices.

  “Only if I can convince you to stay up past your bedtime.” There’s laughter in his voice and despite it being at my expense, I want to keep hearing him laugh more than I want to breathe right now. I’m pathetic. My first crush and I’m already giving up my life for him. I understand Juliet so much better now.

  “I’m eighteen years old. I don’t have a bedtime.” Though, if I’m being honest with myself, I can’t remember the last time I was up past eleven o’clock. But it’s not a strict rule, it’s just how I prefer to live my life.

  “So, tell me something that is true about you.”

  I rack my brain and can’t come up with one interesting detail about myself. I also feel like I’m on a job interview and if I don’t say something extraordinary, I won’t get the position. The position to, what? Be his girlfriend? He’s a stranger!

  “Last year I got to walk the red carpet at an awards show and met a bunch of famous people. I’m talking Jennifer Aniston, Jim Carrey, a couple bands and singers, no big deal.” I may be fabricating the story a little bit.

  That ‘red carpet’ was more of a path through Madame Tussauds’ wax museum in New York. And yes, all those celebrities were, in fact, wax models. Though, I did see Rachel Ray from a distance before her show taped, so that’s something.

  “You know, Carson, I think we’re going to get along just fine.” He chuckles like he doesn’t believe my story, and I don’t blame him. But we spend the next hour and a half talking about anything and everything and it’s the best time I’ve had in my entire life.

  Two

  Carson

  Wednesday couldn’t come fast enough. Maddox and I talked for another two hours on the phone last night and now I feel like I know him. Butterflies flap their incessant wings in my belly as I sit in my seat in Psych waiting for him to show up.

  I pull out my notebook and pen, chewing on the end as I wait. I’m trying not to look desperate by glancing over my shoulder every two seconds, but the temptation is strong. The classroom is filling up and some random dude tries to sit beside me, but I tell him the seat is taken.

  It’s utterly absurd. I barely know the guy and I’m already saving him a seat. He could already be here, sitting beside someone else, sharing his fun facts with a new girl. It’s only day two of this class and I’m already asking him to sign a marriage license.

  Professor Ellar walks in with a broad smile and her blonde hair pulled into a sleek ponytail and Maddox still isn’t here. My heart sinks.

  “Good morning, class. Glad to see most of you came back.” Crap, what if he dropped the class? Wouldn’t he have told me?

  I sink into my seat as Ellar starts up the PowerPoint. As the computer boots up, the doors to the lecture hall open and shut and half the class turns to look at the disruption. I stay firmly rooted in my seat and instead pull out my phone, ready to text Maddox to see what’s going on.

  “Sorry I’m late. Traffic was a nightmare.” The auburn-haired fox slinks into the seat beside me, a lazy smile perched on his perfect pink lips.

  “I was afraid you weren’t coming or dropped the class.” I bite my lip, uncomfortable with sharing the truth of my feelings. Most girls don’t wear their hearts out in the open, at least not when they barely know the guy. But I’m treading new waters and I’m not a normal girl. I’ve never been crazy over a boy before. I don’t know how to react, but honesty has never bitten me in the ass before.

  “I would have told you if that were the case. Besides, I have a great fact I have to share with you. One I couldn’t just tell you over the phone.” His hand grazes my knee and the contact leaves goosebumps on my exposed flesh.

  “Must be good then. What is it?” I lean in close to him, whispering as our professor starts with the basics about Pavlov and conditioning.

  “Only eight percent of the population has blue eyes and people with blue eyes are seen as kinder and sweeter.”

  “And why couldn’t you tell me that over the phone?”

  “Because I wanted to look into your beautiful, crystal blue eyes while I told you that.” I’m glad I don’t have a mirror because I’m sure my face is Coke can red right now. “You’re cute when you blush.”

  His breath tickles my cheek with his whisper and my entire body is flushed. I wish there was a window I could crack to get some fresh air in here.

  As the hour passes, Maddox continues to make comments under his breath. I have to stop myself from bursting out laughing at his ridiculousness.

  When the class is over, disappointment takes root in my gut. I pack up my things and pray I could jump right to Friday to my next class with Maddox.

  “Go out on a date with me.”

  I pause, shocked. He’s sta
nding over me with a confident smirk. He doesn’t seem worried about me saying no, as if it just isn’t an option. “Okay. When?”

  “While I don’t want to wait to spend more time with you, a real first date takes place on Fridays. So I’ll pick you up at seven.”

  My heart flutters at the promise and I’m already mentally going through my closet trying to decide if I have anything date-worthy.

  My day passes in a haze thanks to my heavy course load. When I burst through the door of my childhood home, my mom reads the panic plastered on my face.

  “Honey, what’s wrong?” She walks to me, a caring hand coming to rest on my shoulder.

  “Nothing is wrong, Mom. Everything is right, or, it could be.” The confusion on her face deepens. “I have a date on Friday and I don’t know what to wear or say or how to act. I need your help.” Peter Quill could hear her squeal in the next galaxy.

  “Oh, honey, I’m so excited for you. What’s his name? Or…hers? Who is it?” I knew she suspected I was a lesbian.

  “His name is Maddox, and truthfully, I don’t know much else about him. But he’s handsome and funny and so kind.” My mom’s excitement diminishes and concern replaces the look.

  “Baby girl, you’re going on a date with a stranger? And he’s picking you up here? Have you learned nothing from those serial killer documentaries you watch?”

  “Momma, once you meet him, you’ll fall instantly in love with him, I promise. I understand your concern, but this is something I want to do. I have to.” I’m gripping her hands as desperation and desire course through my veins.

  “Well, I hope the lesson you learn isn’t going to end up in your murder.”

  “Mom!” Though my jaw drops, I can’t help but laugh.

  “Alright, come on. Let’s go look in your closet—no, scratch that. We’ll go shopping tomorrow after your classes.” Her wince tells me everything I need to know about my fashion sense.

  The next day after I get home, my mom couldn’t be more excited to take me all around town, turning me into a glamour project. I feel like I’m about to audition for America’s Next Top Model.