For Keeps. For Always. by HALEY JENNER (top rated books of all time txt) 📗

a calming effect on my edgy disposition. I met him on one of the first nights I arrived in Glasgow. I asked for a job, he asked for a date, and that was that.

He was handsome. And funny. And kind. He put me at ease, and I knew the moment I could take a full breath that I’d made the right decision. Leaving home was harder than I imagined it would ever be. Considering my upbringing, I was certain I’d fly out of my mother’s house without having packed a bag. But when the moment of truth came, I felt panicked. Jacinta, and Derrick for the time he was around, were always there. It felt as though they’d watched every breath I’d taken. They were a security blanket. I just didn’t know it.

His calming effect has morphed in mere seconds. A pleasant relief to an annoyance I feel overwhelmingly inconvenienced by.

“Sure I can’t convince you to be a few minutes late?” He waggles his dark eyebrows.

I roll my eyes. “A few minutes?”

“Love, you left me without last night,” he teases. “I’m a man starved.”

I throw a cushion at his face. “I might see you tonight,” I lie.

“My cock mourns what could’ve been.” His voice follows my exit, and I work to bury the self-reproach festering in my stomach.

I should’ve just been honest.

I’m meeting up with the boy who used to be my best friend.

Who, whether he calls for the title or not, remains that person for me.

My heart seizes at the mere thought of him.

Brooks Riley.

Gosh. My legs almost gave out on me. He was the last person I expected to see. My entire body jolted to life the moment my name fell from his lips.

I can hear it now. The question, the awe, the relief in his matured voice.

Henley. 

I wanted to cry. I wanted to throw myself into his arms and breathe. 

Instead, I stood there like a wet fish; eyes wide, mouth gaping.

I was petrified Bridget wouldn’t leave. Or worse, she’d stumble into the bar and tell Aaron I was outside with someone. Guilt should’ve been my guiding light pushing me to do what was right. Instead, I was overcome with possessiveness. When I saw him standing there, the thought of sharing even a second of him with another person seemed impossible.

He looked the same. Older, but similar. He’d filled into his lean frame, but he’d started doing that two years ago when we’d last seen each other. When we’d rid ourselves of our virginities in a messy declaration of love. His body had morphed from a teenage boy into a man. The intensity in the broadness of his shoulders, the thick line of his arms, and the strong cut of his jaw. Dark stubble was scattered along the bottom half of his face, his light blue eyes lost in memories I was too scared to unbox.

I spent too long getting ready for a simple catch-up with an old friend. I put too much thought into how I looked, hoping like hell he still appreciated what he saw in me the same way I do when I looked at him.

Red flags were waving at me so strongly with every step, demanding I turn around and walk back to Aaron’s apartment. They appealed to my conscience, begging me to stay away from thoughts and feelings I couldn’t possibly understand.

I ignored them all.

Did he feel this way with Evelyn? Or was he truthful in saying that he was so caught up in us that she didn’t register?

There’s no doubt I’m worse. I know I should’ve been honest with Aaron. That I should’ve been honest with Brooks. Instead, I’m creeping away from one while hiding my whole self from the other.

“Squirrel.” His voice sounds surprised to see me. “I half expected you to stand me up. You’re late.”

I check my watch. He’s right. I’m thirty minutes late.

“You waited.” My voice raises.

Handing me a coffee, he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. “I would’ve stood here all day, Henley.”

“Thanks.” I lift the coffee, ducking my head toward the toes of my shoes.

I would’ve stood here all day. 

I know he’s not lying. He would’ve. He would’ve stood in the cold, waiting for me, even if I had zero intention of showing up.

“Let’s walk,” I say, needing to shake myself from the moment.

Hours pass before I realize. Long minutes of animated conversation and laughter that knot in my stomach, forcing me to bend in half.

“Stop it.” I push at his shoulder, the telltale shutter of his camera clicking over and over again. “Brooks,” I whine, my laughter completely derailing my protest. “I said stop.”

He disregards my plea, the shutter closing once again. “Anyone ever told you that you’re beautiful?”

The wide lens pulls away from his face slowly, his eyes more potent when left unshielded. Blue pools of something far stronger than lust and too tumultuous to be love swirl in his eyes.

Silence snags between us, our feet moving closer but pausing, uncertainty splitting through the grass like a gulf we can’t step over.

So much passes between us in the briefest blink of time. Apologies and forgiveness. Feelings neither of us are old enough to even consider understanding. Emotions that are too deep for my underdeveloped heart to interpret.

“You,” I answer honestly. “Only you.”

I shouldn’t have told him that.

Aaron tells me I’m cute. Cute. Like the way you describe your grandmother or a puppy you meet at the park.

Never beautiful.

Brooks is different. He’s deeper. He’s not just telling me that he likes the way I look. He’s telling me he likes the shine of my soul and the way my eyes speak to him.

It consumes me. More often than not, I despise myself. I hate my flaws. They’re defects I wouldn’t accept on another, yet they’re fundamentals of who I am.

Brooks thinks I’m beautiful despite those blemishes on my soul, undeterred by the failings in my person.

“More people should tell you that.” He turns away, toeing off his boots in the freezing temperature to feel the piercing cold grass against his feet.

His eyes