First Love Read online

  First Love

  G.L. Snodgrass

  Copyright 2019 G.L. Snodgrass

  Copyright 2014 Rescuing a Best Friend

  Copyright 2015 Finding You

  Copyright 2017 Love’s Winding Road

  Copyright 2018 Loving My Best Friend

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof in any form. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means. This is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author's imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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  Return to your favorite ebook retailer or the blog linked above to discover other works by G.L. Snodgrass. Thank you for your support.

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  Other Books by G. L. Snodgrass

  Regency Romance

  The Reluctant Duke (Love’s Pride 1)

  The Viscount's Bride (Love’s Pride 2)

  The Earl's Regret (Love’s Pride 3)

  Marrying the Marquess (Love’s Pride 4)

  Confronting A Rake (A Rake’s Redemption 1)

  Charming A Rake (A Rake’s Redemption 2)

  Catching A Rake (A Rake’s Redemption 3_

  Challenging A Rake (A Rake’s Redemption 4)

  Duke In Disguise (The Stafford Sisters 1)

  The American Duke (The Stafford Sisters 2)

  Young Adult Romance

  Certain Rules

  Unwritten Rules

  Unbreakable Rules

  My Favorite Love (Lakeland Boys 1)

  One Night (Lakeland Boys 2)

  My Brother’s Best Friend (Lakeland Boys 3)

  Worlds Apart (Lakeland Boys 4)

  My Brother's Bodyguard (Hometown Heroes 1)

  My Hidden Hero (Hometown Heroes 2)

  My Best Friend’s Brother (Hometown Heroes 3)

  My Sister’s Best Friend

  A New Year's Kiss

  Dedicated to Sheryl Turner

  A true friend

  Finding You

  Chapter One

  Cassie

  I slammed my bedroom door hard enough to rattle the Van Gough print of Starry Night hanging on my wall. Hopefully, the door slam was strong enough to get my point across.

  Mom, being Mom of course, totally ignored it. She waltzed into my room as if she owned the place.

  That was the thing with small New York apartments. It was impossible to have any privacy.

  “Cassandra Eleonore McDonald, don’t you walk away from me when we are talking,” she said with her hands on her hips.

  “We weren’t talking mom. You were yelling. There’s a difference.”

  “I just don’t understand. Why won’t you?” she said. Giving me that look a mother gives her seventeen-year-old daughter. I seemed to be getting that look a lot lately. You know the one where she thinks I’m from a different planet.

  “Mom, how many ways can I say this. No way. Nyet. Nadda. Not going to happen. How about just plain No. I refuse to go on a blind date with the son of one of your co-workers.”

  “But why, he’s nice. His mother is an angel. You’re a senior in high school. You should be going out. Having fun. You should be enjoying these years.”

  “Oh, really. How’d that work out for you?” I asked and knew immediately I’d overstepped my boundaries. About fifty feet into the danger zone.

  Mom had me when she was nineteen and raised me as a single parent.

  My insides cringed. What I said was a low blow. But then all things are fair in a war like this.

  Mom sighed. “Honey, you are the best thing that ever happened to me. You know that. I’m not asking much. A date. Dinner, or a movie.”

  “Why is this so important to you,” I asked.

  She sighed again and said, “Honey, you are going off to college in what? Five months. You graduate high school in two. You’ve never been on a date. A pretty girl like you. It’s not right. I don’t want your first date to be in college. Or worse, after college.”

  How do you argue with such screwed up logic? I didn’t know, but that didn’t mean I was going to surrender either. No Way.

  “I want you to meet people. Have friends,” she continued.

  “I have friends,” I answered. Even I knew that I sounded defensive.

  “Yes,” she said. “Girls like you, who spend Friday and Saturday nights at home, writing in their journal. It’s not right.”

  “Mom, Jeez, half the parents I know would be ecstatic if their daughters were safe at home on Friday nights. Here you are, pushing me on some guy. It’s embarrassing.”

  She studied me for a moment then let out a long breath and turned to leave my room.

  Wow! I’d won an argument. Will miracles never cease?

  At the door, she turned to look over her shoulder. “It doesn’t matter. He will be here tomorrow at seven. You can be the one to tell him you don’t want to go out with him.”

  With that, she closed the door and left me to absorb the body blow.

  Damn.

  .o0o.

  Eric

  I couldn’t believe I was doing this, I thought, as I approached the apartment building. I looked down at the slip of paper to confirm I was in the right place. Then I checked my phone. Ten minutes to kill.

  My jaw hurt from all the teeth-gritting I’d been doing the last two days. My mom was a piece of work.

  She sprung this on me earlier in the week. A favor for a friend, she said. Why did that obligate me? Come on, I got so few Fridays off. I was supposed to meet up with the guys.

  Instead, I was going to blow some hard earned money on some girl I didn’t even know. All so my mom could make a friend happy. It was enough to drive a guy crazy. What was worse, she didn’t even know how wrong this was.

  “I don’t understand. You go out with girls all the time. Why can’t you do this for me,” she said.

  “Mom, kids don’t go on dates. They hang out. And if they’re lucky they hook up,” I said. Maybe if I shocked her, she’d back off.

  “Eric Johnson, you treat this girl nice. Her mother is a friend of mine. Besides, you took that Mary Wilson on a date, remember.”

  “Mom, she was my girlfriend. And even then we’d been together for a couple of months.”

  “Please Eric, for me,” she said, trying to lay the whole guilt trip thing. I wasn’t going to fall for it. This was her problem, not mine. I was not going to spend the evening with some girl I didn’t know. She’d like, want to talk and stuff.

  “She’s cute,” she said hopefully. “I saw her picture.”

  Yeah right.

  “Nope, not going to happen,” I said as I headed out the door for school.

  Normally, I would have remained hardcore. I’d cut the apron strings years ago. Hey, I’m eighteen, I could tell my mom no. At least I could until she brought out the big guns.

  I’d come home from school to find out we were having a salad for dinner. Right then I knew. It’d be fruits and vegetables forever until I gave in. No Lasagna, no ham, no roast, not even a bologna sandwich.

  There is only so much a guy can put up with.

  I’d given in. It felt like I’d abandoned my principles. But hey. A guy’s got to have his priorities. Red meat was one of mine.

  Another look at my phone showed that a whole minute had passed. Great, nine more, then I could begin to get this over with.

  Meet the girl. Take her to din
ner. Talk a little, walk her home, then a quick goodbye. If I worked it right, I’d be at Henry’s before ten.

  I paced back and forth outside for a few minutes then finally gave up. What was a few minutes early going to matter? Besides. The sooner we started, the sooner we could get it over with.

  Running up the front stoop I buzzed apartment 3b and waited.

  A quick buzzer let me into the building. I walked up to the third floor and knocked on her door. My stomach squeezed for a moment. This was going to be a long night.

  .o0o.

  Cassie

  Who shows up early? I mean, really. What if I hadn’t been ready? If this was any indication, it was going to be a long night.

  I still couldn’t believe my mom was making me do this. I was so pissed off. I didn’t know who I was madder at. My mom for forcing me into this. Him, for agreeing to this fiasco. Or me? For letting them do it.

  Mom remained firmly planted in the living room. We were still not talking. She didn’t even get up to come meet the guy. He could have been an ax murder for all she knew.

  She was making sure I was the one who had to answer the door. The woman was as stubborn as a tree stump.

  I took a deep breath and ran my hands down my dress to make sure everything was in place. I hesitated for a moment, my hand on the doorknob and reminded myself that none of this mattered. He didn’t go to my school. We’d never see each other again. We’d do the whole small talk over dinner thing then go our own ways. How hard could it be?

  And this was the last time I ever let my mother get involved in my non-existence love life.

  Holding my breath, I opened the door.

  Okay, One look at him focused my anger. How could my mom do this to me? The guy was so far out of my league I almost closed the door in his face.

  A blue plaid shirt, leather bomber jacket, jeans, and cool tennis shoes. Sandy brown hair, and blue-gray eyes that seemed deeper than the Atlantic. What had my mom been thinking? The guy was a walking stud.

  I could tell the type already. I’d seen enough of them around my school. Every girl wanted them and they knew it. These type of guys were too good looking for their own good. The kind that set my nerves on edge.

  My knees actually went weak and I forgot to breathe for a moment. I was going to kill my mom.

  This was not what I expected. This was not a future engineer with glasses and a complexion to match. This was a guy with too much confidence and the track record to justify it.

  Why in the world was he on a blind date? A blind date with me

  He looked down at me for a moment as if trying to figures something out. Did I mention tall? Yep, besides the whole killer good looks, he was tall. Over six feet at least.

  I wished I’d worn heels. Of course, the fact that I didn’t own any heels was beside the point.

  “Cassie?” he asked. Okay, that was it, the voice was the topper. Eighteen-year-old boys shouldn’t have a deep silky voice like that. It traveled into my bones and set up a resonance. This was going to be a long evening.

  I swallowed and nodded my head.

  Stepping out into the hallway I closed the door, rather proud that I hadn’t tripped and made a fool of myself.

  He smiled hesitantly and nodded to the stairs. Yes, most definitely. A long night. The next few hours would probably end up being the longest of my life.

  Thanks, mom.

  That last was thought sarcastically of course.

  .o0o.

  Eric

  Okay, mom and I were going to have a discussion about the meaning of the word ‘Cute’. This girl had way past cute, directly to full-on pretty with potential for beautiful.

  Why the hell did this girl need to be set up with a blind date?

  Jesus. Had she been forced into this? Was this my mom’s way of getting me past Mary Wilson? Didn’t she know me by now? I’d been past Mary about thirty minutes after she dumped me.

  My heart dropped into my stomach. Great, this girl didn’t want to be here any more than I did.

  I looked at her again. Long auburn hair. The kind that is just short of full redhead. But way better than brown. Green eyes that looked intelligent, observant without being judgmental.

  She wore a cream-colored sweater buttoned at the throat and a light green dress. Not exactly fashionable. But hey, she made it work.

  The sweater and a button nose gave her a girl next door look. Again, what was going on here?

  She wasn’t my type. I could tell that right away. Too reserved, too quiet. Most definitely not a party girl.

  That’s okay. I could spend a couple of hours with her and then we could call it a night. There were worse ways to waste my time.

  Chapter Two

  Cassie

  “Is Italian all right?” he asked as we hit the sidewalk. He shifted to the street side and guided me to the left. Obviously not waiting to find out if I liked Italian food or not. But then, who doesn’t love Italian food.

  “Yes,” I said.

  Great, I had suddenly become monosyllabic. That means I spoke in one syllable words for all you non-English majors.

  Eric gave me a small smile and nodded his head. We began to walk. It was one of those wonderful, New York spring nights. One of those nights where the city seemed to relax. To actually enjoy life for a few minutes.

  I, on the other hand, was as tight as a wound spring. My shoulders felt like someone was standing on them.

  The rest of the city was enjoying itself. It would soon return to its crazy, chaotic ways. But for now, the hustle and fast pace had been put aside.

  Of course, that only worked if you weren’t walking next to some strange boy who looked like he should be on a movie poster.

  “So, do you prefer Cassandra or Cassie?” he asked. Obviously having a hard time coming up with inspirational conversation.

  “Cassie,” I said. Matching him topic for topic. And hey, that was two syllables. An improvement.

  He nodded his head as if my answer solved half the world’s problems.

  “How about you, do … never mind,” I said. What an idiot. I’d almost asked him if he preferred Eric or …? My cheeks burst into red hot cinders. I hate it when I blush. I become a red beacon of light. It is so embarrassing.

  He caught my screw up but didn’t say anything. Okay, I had to give him points for that. No teasing.

  As we walked, I found myself having to stretch out a little to keep up. He noticed and slowed down. Again, points. It was weird walking like this. I didn’t know where we were going or when we would get there. I seemed to have put a lot of trust in a guy I didn’t know from Adam.

  Not my normal operations to say the least.

  My stomach was as tight as my fists. How could she do this to me? A sense of betrayal washed through me every time I thought about my mother.

  What was he thinking? I shot him a glance from under my brow but got nothing. At least he looked intelligent. A significant plus. But I had no idea how to read him.

  Great, in addition to my lack of conversation skills. Now I had lost any ability to read body language and simple facial expressions. This is what they mean when they talk about social incompetence.

  At last, after about three blocks he stopped before a nice little Italian place, “Bella Donna’s”.

  He held the door for me and ushered me in. The enticing aroma of garlic and fennel and sausage and basil and everything that is delicious Italian engulfed me in a wave of wonderfulness. Have I told you I adore Italian food?

  The restaurant looked busy but not packed. Small candles on each linen table cloth. Wine bottles wrapped in woven straw, peppers, and garlic hanging in the corner.

  Yes, this was acceptable.

  The hostess glanced up and saw Eric. She smiled and nodded.

  “It is nice to see you, Mr. Johnson. Right this way, your table is ready,” she said with a perky smile.

  What, they knew him? Who was this guy? And why was he on a blind date? With me, no less.

/>   Eric waited for me to go first then held out my chair for me. Again points. He was trying to be a gentleman. Probably worried about a bad report card getting back to his mom.

  I looked around. Several of the wait staff were watching us.

  “Do you come here a lot?” I asked, leaning forward so I could whisper.

  He chuckled. “At least three or four times a week.”

  “Really?” I said. I was confused. I’d figured him for a player. But this place seemed to family oriented for his type.

  He smiled at my confusion then shrugged his shoulders.

  “I should be honest,” he said. “I work here. I’m a dishwasher. I get to help out on the line too sometimes when they get swamped.” His brow creased with concern as if he’d just admitted to liking country music or something.

  “I hope it’s okay? I get a discount. If you want, we can go somewhere else. But the food is good, I swear.”

  His worried expression was more than enough for me. The guy really seemed to be concerned about what I thought of him taking me to a place where he worked.

  Hey, who am I to judge. At least he had a job. That was more than about ninety percent of the guys at my school. Not unless you count selling drugs or bookmaking. If those count, then the number was knocked down to about forty percent.

  “No, this is great,” I said as I opened the menu. What else was I going to say? That I was there under protest?

  One of those awkward silences I totally hate fell over us as we examined the menus. The tension felt tight. Like a boa constrictor was wrapped around my middle. To top it off, my stomach threatened to gurgle. I could feel it churning. But hey, I wasn’t nervous.

  He placed his menu down, put his hands in his lap and looked around the restaurant. Obviously bored out of his mind already. I swallowed and made a decision. Chicken Parm sounded good.

  The waiter took our order and left us in silence.

  I could have cut the tension with a meat cleaver. The guy obviously didn’t want to be here. Not with me. He’d been forced into this. A person this good looking did not need a blind date.