Chasing Destiny

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Chasing Destiny

  J.D. Rivera

  Chasing Destiny

  Copyright © 2015 by J.D. Rivera

  Cover Image Copyright © sivilla 2016

  Used under license from Shutterstock.com

  Editor: Monica Black, Word Nerd Editing

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without prior written permission.

  Chasing Destiny is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, business establishments, or locales is purely coincidental. The author recognizes the copyrighted or trademarked statuses of all established companies and brands mentioned in this work.

  To Carlos,

  Your unwavering support means the world to me. I couldn’t have finished this series without you pushing me, telling me I could do it. I love you more than I can ever say. And thank you for your smartass ways, which helped make Carson’s character that much better.

  Chapter One

  Kristin

  “Why do you still have that hanging on the wall?” Holly asked as she sat on my couch, sipping wine.

  Following her glare, I focused on a creepy painting my ex-boyfriend, Adam, had made, and said, “Oh, that. I don’t know. I guess I just forgot to take it down.” The colors were red and black with a bloody, purple man taking up most of the space. Adam was an art major and I had been very supportive, hanging his pieces all over my apartment.

  “It’s hideous. You should take it down.”

  “I’ll think about it,” I said before taking a sip of wine.

  “Think about it? No, you need to take it down. Won’t Carson want it gone before tomorrow?”

  “Carson won’t give a shit,” I replied, confused as to why she thought he would. Carson was my friend taking Miranda’s spot as my roommate. Miranda and I had lived together for a little under two years, but then she met Brad. We had never been super close, but Brad was good for her, and I was happy they were moving in together. I actually met Carson through Miranda. He was her distant cousin or something and we got along well. So, when he said he needed a place to live, I figured it was a great option for both of us.

  Holly cocked her head to the side, studying me. “What?” I asked, furrowing my brows.

  “Why would he want another guy’s art hanging up in his apartment? A guy you used to date?”

  “Why would he care? Carson and I are friends.” She raised her brows at me in disbelief. “Honestly, I really don’t have any feelings for him like that. He’s just fun to be around,” I said, and it was the complete truth. He was a great guy and would be a fun roommate, but that was all.

  “How do you know he doesn’t have feelings for you other than friendship?” She gave me a gotcha there look before throwing back the rest of her wine.

  “Have you met Carson? He doesn’t feel like that toward anyone.” Carson slept around. A lot.

  Holly shrugged. “I still don’t think he’ll like Adam’s artwork hanging in his living room.” I had no idea why she was making this into such a big deal.

  “Probably not,” I agreed. “I’ll take it down later,” I said to appease her, though a small part of me wanted to leave it up. Adam and I were over, but he had been a huge part of my life. And even though the painting was seriously weird, it had grown on me.

  She got up and retrieved another bottle of wine from the kitchen before flopping back down on the couch. “Have you talked to Adam lately?”

  I looked down, pursing my lips. “He texts me sometimes.” More like all the time.

  After filling her glass with more wine and throwing it back, she placed it on the table. “And what do the texts say?”

  “Nothing,” I sighed, but her face told me I wasn’t getting off that easily. “He wants to be friends.”

  “That bastard. Please tell me you don’t reply.” I got up and went into the kitchen, hoping she’d drop it. “Kristin!”

  “What?” I hollered, getting myself a brownie from the pan.

  “You know what! That asshole strung you along and broke your heart.”

  I shoved a huge piece of the brownie into my mouth and mumbled, “I would say broke my heart is stretching it.”

  “Is it?”

  I sat back on the couch and chewed. “I’ll admit it hurt,” I said after swallowing, but she already knew that. We’d had this conversation a million times. “I mean, we dated for a long time and everything was great, but as soon as we started college, it all changed. He wanted to do a lot of things separately, but wanted me to be available for sex and snuggling whenever he asked. You remember his texts.”

  “Why do you want to be friends with him? When you broke it off, you said you were done.”

  I picked up my wine glass from the table and gulped down a huge swallow. “I don’t know. I still care about him. Just because we aren’t together doesn’t mean I don’t still love him.”

  Holly was silent for a moment, mulling over her next question. “Do you think he cheated?”

  My head fell back on the cushion as I stared at the ceiling. “Honestly, I don’t. I think he wanted to. He wanted that single and free lifestyle, but I don’t think he ever had sex with anyone. Kissed? Probably.”

  “That’s cheating! He’s such an asshole. And he’s a sucky artist.” She shook her head and gestured toward the painting on the opposite wall. “I mean, just look at that. If he plans to make a living with his art, he has another thing coming. Nobody would pay for that trash.”

  A laugh bubbled up and burst from my lips. Holly could be weird at times, but she could also be hilarious. And honestly, his art did suck ass.

  I wiped a tear from my eye. “That was hilarious.”

  “True. It was true.” She quieted for a moment. “So, does Carson have someone to help him move in?”

  Nodding, I said, “Yeah, his cousin Ryder is going to help him, but the apartment is already furnished. He just refuses to use the bed in there because Miranda had sex with Brad on it.”

  She laughed. “He is so…I don’t even know.”

  “Yeah.”

  She muttered something under her breath, a frown marring her face.

  “Hey
,” I said, “what just happened? You suddenly look depressed or something.”

  “It’s nothing.” She perked up and laughed to herself. She’s a little weird sometimes, which is why Miranda would never hang out with me when my friends were around. “I think we should go tear something of his up. His car, or…one of his worthless paintings!”

  “What? No.” I shook my head. “Why would we do that?”

  “It’ll be fun.”

  “We aren’t sixteen anymore and we didn’t break up today, it’s been months.” I got up and walked to the windows where a few of my plants were located. I loved flowers and plants. They reminded me of summers with my grandma. I had even declared my major as botany, but changed it a month or so ago. Flowers were my stress reliever and I didn’t want anything to change that—like coursework. So now, I was undecided.

  I inhaled the lavender and rotated it around so the other side could see the sun. “Enough about me, let’s talk about you.”

  She blew out a breath and stretched her legs out on the cushions. “I don’t have anything going on. I’m boring.”

  “Oh, whatever,” I said, walking into the kitchen to grab a pitcher of water. “What about that guy you went on a date with a couple weeks ago? What was his name—Al, Abe?”

  “Allen.”

  “Yeah, what about him?” I filled the pitcher and returned to my plants.

  Holly made a huffing noise and I glanced in her direction. “He was a complete idiot.”

  “What happened?” I checked the soil of my jasmine plant and began pouring water into the pot.

  “He smelled like salami.”

  Cracking a laugh, I tipped my head back and snorted. “Salami?”

  “Yes. It was disgusting.” She scrunched her nose, as if she could still smell him.

  “Shit,” I muttered, noticing I spilled a lot of water on the floor. I stumbled into the kitchen, still giggling, and placed the pitcher on the counter. Only Holly would go on a date with a guy who smelled like salami.

  I grabbed a towel, wiped up the water, and plopped back down on the couch. Looking over at Holly, I busted out laughing again. “Stop it! It’s not funny,” she yelled, but started giggling, too. “Okay, maybe a little. But now you see why I would rather talk about your life. No one in your life stinks, except you.”

  “Except me?” I asked, pointing to myself.

  “Yeah. You always smell like flowers. If I didn’t love you so much, I wouldn’t come over here because of the smell.”

  “First off, the apartment smells, not me. Second, it doesn’t stink! It smells wonderful in here.”

  She nodded. “At least it will drown out the nasty skank smell of all the girls Carson will be bringing home.”

  “Gross,” I said, but it was the truth. The smell of cheap perfume and sex were most likely in my future. My phone dinged with a text and I grabbed it from the table.

  Carson: Hey, flower girl. Hope you are ready for tomorrow. I’ll be the hot guy moving my shit into your apartment.

  I rolled my eyes but laughed.

  “Who is that? It better not be Adam.”

  “It’s Carson,” I said as I typed out a text to him.

  Me: Hot guy? More like a dumbass.

  Carson: Right to the heart. You’ll change your mind when you see me naked and wet, stepping out of the shower.

  Me: You have your own bathroom. I can promise I won’t see that awful image.

  Carson: I’m sorry you won’t get to. You would have loved it.

  Me: Go find a skank and leave me alone.

  I didn’t wait for his reply before I placed my phone back on the coffee table. “Let’s do something. I’m sick of just sitting here.”

  “I just got a text about a party.”

  “Let’s go!”

  ***

  Music pumped out of the speakers located somewhere in the living room of the small house. The party was in full swing, packed wall to wall. Since walking in an hour ago, my butt had been planted on the couch next to Holly and a couple guys we just met.

  “I can’t believe you’ve never been to a haunted house,” Holly remarked.

  I lifted a shoulder and took another swig of my beer. “I know, right? We should totally find a haunted house and go tonight.” I may have drunk much more in that hour than I thought; my happy drunk persona was coming out.

  “Our friend Todd isn’t drinking tonight. He can drive us to one.”

  “I know the perfect place!” Holly shouted. “It’s only like an hour away.”

  “How is it haunted?” I asked as I wiped some beer from my mouth and made eye contact with the guy offering his friend as DD. Originally, I thought he was okay looking, but now that I was really looking at him, he was actually kind of cute. Blond hair, blue eyes—he reminded me of Adam. I wonder if he’s an asshole, too?

  “Someone was murdered there.” She tilted her head and looked at the ceiling, as if thinking. “Yeah, I’m pretty positive.” Holly was completely drunk, but something told me just to go with this idea.

  “Okay,” I agreed, a huge smile spreading across my face. This could be fun.

  Blond guy turned to his man-bun friend. “Let’s go find Todd.” He glanced at Holly and me. “We’ll be right back.”

  “I really like that guy’s man-bun,” Holly practically shouted as they got up.

  “Thanks,” Man-bun said, smiling. “I’m Justin, by the way.”

  “I’m Holly, and this is Kristin.” A smile stretched across Holly’s face and her glazed eyes filled with lust.

  The guys walked away and I arched a brow at Holly. “You like that guy?”

  “Did you see him? He’s freakin’ hot!”

  I nodded and finished my beer. “I’m going to get some more.”

  I walked toward the small kitchen where the keg was located and started to fill my cup.

  “Let me get that for you,” a guy standing next to me with long, brown hair and caramel eyes said.

  “Um, thanks,” I replied. Since he was offering, he could have at it. Besides, he was hot.

  “Here you go,” he said, handing my cup back to me as muscular arms wrapped around me.

  The sleeve of tattoos gave away who it was, but I would have known anyway. I’d recognize his cologne anywhere. “Carson,” I said, whipping around to face him, “what are you doing?”

  “Giving my flower girl a hug,” he stated, a huge grin on his face and blue eyes sparkling. “Hmmm, you kinda ruined my chances with that guy by hugging me,” I said, pointing to the guy’s retreating form.

  “He’s not good enough for you anyway.” He tucked a piece of my brown hair behind my ear. “You ready for tomorrow?”

  “Not really. But I need a roommate to help pay the bills.” I was kidding, of course, and Carson knew it.

  “You can’t wait until I’m moved in,” he said, watching a girl with huge boobs walk by. “Look, I’ll catch you later. I’ve gotta go talk to that girl.” He leaned forward and kissed my forehead.

  I rolled my eyes and laughed. He could chase after a girl but drove the guy talking to me away. Glad to see things are even. “Make sure to wrap it up.” Carson loved women, which reminded me I needed to set some ground rules about where he could sleep with these girls. The living room and kitchen were off limits. Walking in on him was not something I wanted to do.

  “Always do,” he called over his shoulder as he walked away.

  I laughed and took a sip of beer, then walked back to where Holly was now sitting with Justin, Todd, and the blond guy.

  “Dude,” Justin hollered as I sat down next to Holly, “your friend here was just telling us some stories about you. You’re going to be fun.”

  “What stories?” I asked, even though I probably already knew. I had gone through a “wild” stage during high school. I would drink myself into oblivion and people would dare me to do crazy things—I never turned down a dare.

  “You went bridge jumping while hanging onto the hood of a car?”
<
br />   “Oh,” I said, flinging my hand out as if bridge jumping were nothing. “Yeah, I did that once. Not one of my smartest moves.”

  They just laughed and the blond guy placed his arm around my shoulder. It wasn’t something I technically wanted, but I was tipsy enough not to care. “I’m Xander, by the way,” he whispered into my ear.

  “Kristin.”

  “That’s a beautiful name.” I was so hoping he was drunk and not normally this lame. “You ready to go?”

  “Sure,” I said, looking at Holly, who was undressing Man-bun—I mean, Justin, with her eyes. “Holly!”

  She snapped her attention to me. “Um…yeah, let’s go.”

  After making our way into the cold night air, we walked toward Todd’s 4-Runner. I zipped up my jacket and shivered. “You okay?” Xander asked.

  “I’m fine. Just cold.”

  Xander smiled and wrapped his arms around me. “I’ll warm you up.”

  I smiled and pulled away as we neared the vehicle. Xander was a nice guy, and at first, I was drawn to him because he reminded me of Adam, but now I was starting to withdraw because he reminded me of Adam.

  I only hoped I’d be able to push past it and enjoy the rest of the night.

  Chapter Two

  Carson

  My head was pounding. Rolling over, I fumbled for my phone on the nightstand and was immediately blinded by the damn sun glaring through the curtains. I’d be so glad to be out of this sun box of a room. Sure, I could’ve put up blackout curtains, but I was too lazy.

  I wanted to promise myself I would never drink again, but I knew that wasn’t true. I’d just be a little more prepared next time. I usually was—Gatorade and painkillers on my nightstand—but I had packed up all my shit and it slipped my mind before I left for the party.

  My phone said it was ten-thirty and I knew I needed to get my ass up. Ryder was meeting me in an hour to help me move my bed.

  Groaning, I rose from the bed and rifled around in my basket of clothes to find something to wear so I could at least take a shower. I seriously stunk.

  After standing under the scalding water until it turned cold, I turned the faucet off and stepped out. I still felt like death, but a little less dead. After drying off, I dressed in my wrinkly jeans and old t-shirt that had a faded cigarette brand on the front.