It was dark. But I swear she winked at me.
Bridger raised his glass in the air. “To contraband,” he said. Drinking wasn’t allowed at the college-sponsored ball.
“To contraband,” everyone agreed.
The champagne hit my tongue with a smooth bubbly tang. It was spectacular. I tugged on Hartley’s hand, and he leaned down to me. I whispered in his ear. “Stacia complimented me, and your father showed up all on the same day. I fear we’ve reached The End of Days.”
He kissed my neck. “Did you notice? This is really good hooch.”
“I did. Remember what happened the last time we drank expensive champagne?”
“I was just thinking the same thing,” Hartley whispered, his mouth ghosting over my ear.
“Where’ve you been all day, Hartley?” Bridger asked, putting a hand on Hartley’s shoulder.
“If I gave you a thousand chances, you wouldn’t guess right,” he said.
“Well now I have to know.”
“Bridge, I’m not ready to tell the whole story. But I will say this — I drove a check out to my mom today, for twelve years of back child support.”
“What?” I yelped. “You didn’t mention that.”
“Patience. I told you it would take me hours.”
“Whoa, dude.” Bridger drained his wine. “You’re right. I was never guessing that. So who is he?”
Hartley shook his head. “It’s messy for him. We’re taking baby steps, here.”
“That doesn’t sound like a baby step,” I said the next time Hartley leaned down to me.
He scooped me up and sat on the chair, with me in his lap. I wrapped my bare arms around him, and he rubbed them. “You feel cold.”
“I’m okay.”
Hartley whispered into my ear. “The check was for a quarter of a million dollars.”
“My God! He just showed up with it?”
Hartley nodded, his nose skimming my face. “He had his lawyer calculate how much he owed. There’s a formula the state uses.”
“And he just said…here? This belongs to you?”
“Yup. I told you he was shoveling his shit with a bulldozer. So I took it to my mom, and of course she said, ‘I won’t take the money.’”
“What?” I yelped. “She has to take it. Then she can quit that awful job.”
“It took me two hours to convince her. That’s why I was late. But now she can go back to school. She’s thinking about becoming a nurse.”
The idea made me bounce with happiness. “She’ll be amazing. Hey — I’ll show her how to remove an IV.”
“God, I love you,” he chuckled, holding me close. “You crazy, brave, sexy thing. I thought about you all day today. Because if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have met him.”
I snuggled closer. “That’s not true. You might have gotten there a different way.”
Instead of arguing the point, he kissed me. “Come on,” he said. “We have to dance again.”
“Why?”
“Because I dragged you to a dance. And so we’ll dance, at least once more. Before I take this dress off of you.”
“That sounds like fun,” I whispered.
His breath was hot in my ear. “Which part?”
“All of it,” I answered.
And it was.
Thank you!
Thanks for reading The Year We Fell Down. I hope you enjoyed it!
Would you like to know when my next book is available? You can sign up for my new release e-mail list at www.sarinabowen.com, follow me on twitter at @sarinabowen, or like my Facebook page at http://facebook.com/authorsarinabowen
Reviews help other readers find books. I appreciate all reviews, whether positive or negative.
Ready for More?
You’ve just read the first full-length book in the Ivy Years series. The next book is The Year We Hid Away, and it’s Bridger’s story. Hint: his family troubles will only get more complicated. His junior year at Harkness will be the hardest of his life. The only bright spot is meeting Scarlet, who understands all too well how family can derail your life.
While Scarlet is hiding something big, Bridger is hiding someone small.
To be kept up to date on the publication of The Year We Hid Away Sign up for my mailing list at www.sarinabowen.com/contact
About the Author
Sarina Bowen is a Vermonter whose ancestors cut timber and farmed the north country since the 1760s. Sarina is grateful for the invention of indoor plumbing, espresso products and wi-fi during the intervening 250 years. On a few wooded acres, she lives with her husband, two boys, and an ungodly amount of ski and hockey gear.
Sarina is the author of Coming in From the Cold, published 2014 by Harlequin.