Even If It Hurts Read online

  Contents

  Playlist

  Part I

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Part II

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Part III

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Part IV

  Chapter 49

  Author’s Note

  Acknowledgments

  Marni’s Midnighters

  About the Author

  Also by Marni Mann

  Sneak Peek of When Ashes Fall

  Copyright © 2020 by Marni Mann

  All rights reserved.

  * * *

  Visit my website at: www.MarniSMann.com

  Cover Designer: Hang Le, By Hang Le, www.byhangle.com

  Editor: Jovana Shirley, Unforeseen Editing, www.unforeseenediting.com

  Proofreaders: Judy Zweifel, Judy’s Proofreading, Kaitie Reister, and Chanpreet Singh

  * * *

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  * * *

  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.

  * * *

  ISBN-13: 978-1657803497

  For Nina.

  This one will always be for you.

  Love you.

  Playlist

  “Eyes on Fire”—Blue Foundation

  “I Found”—Amber Run

  “Pray You Catch Me”—Beyoncé

  “Trampoline”—Shaed, Zayn

  “Strange Love”—Halsey

  “Say Goodbye”—Dave Matthews Band

  “Impression”—Matt Woods

  “At My Weakest”—James Arthur

  “Haunted”—Beyoncé

  “Dark Times”—The Weeknd, Ed Sheeran

  “Finally Feel Good”—James Arthur

  “I Care”—Beyoncé

  “i can’t breathe”—Bea Miller

  Part One

  That love … was so wild.

  One

  My hands shook as I squeezed the envelope between my fingers, my eyes glued to the return address, scanning each of the lines over and over.

  The letter had traveled so far to get here.

  Just to give me an answer.

  “Open it already,” my best friend said from the other side of the small room.

  Slowly, I glanced up at Molly while she sat on the end of the couch, holding a tall coffee to her lips.

  We’d been roommates since we were freshmen. Now, two weeks into our junior year at Boston University, I was finding out my fate for next semester. Whether I’d be here or subleasing my room to study abroad in London.

  “I’m so nervous; my hands don’t want to move,” I admitted, unable to take my eyes off the return address as though the words would change if I did.

  University of Westminster.

  It was a highly sought-after program at my college, making it extremely competitive. Almost everyone in my major had applied, all of us hoping the international marketing experience we would gain would be enough to set our résumés apart when we graduated.

  “Girl, you got in,” Molly said, her heels tapping the floor. “Stop stressing and trust me.”

  I slowly lifted the corner of the envelope and slid my finger across the top to break the seal. When the thin stack of papers was in my hands, I took a deep breath, and then I unfolded them.

  My eyes immediately landed on Congratulations, and my mouth fell open.

  “Molly, oh my God.” I read a few more lines just to be sure and finally looked up at her. “I got in.” My heart was beating so fast; I could barely get the words out. “I’m … going to London.”

  She left her coffee on the table to rush over and hug me hard. “You’ve worked your ass off for this.”

  I was far from the smartest student in my major, and school didn’t come easy to me. So, to compensate for my lack of straight As, I had to do all the extra things, like become a TA and volunteer and nurture my relationships with the professors in my department. I had known this program was going to be a long shot, but I’d had to try. That was why I couldn’t believe I’d been accepted.

  “I’m so ridiculously happy for you,” she continued, squeezing me even tighter, “because I know how badly you’ve wanted this. But I’m devastated at the same time because you’re leaving me for six whole months.” Her voice softened, her emerald eyes a little teary. “Like seriously gutted.”

  Molly was an accounting major. There was no reason for her to study abroad. But we’d spent every semester and even our summers together, so this separation was going to be challenging in many ways.

  I clutched her shoulders as firmly as she was holding me. “Me too.”

  When she pulled back, her hands went to my forearms, several pieces of her long chocolate hair landing on her lips. “Promise me something?”

  I held my breath. “Anything.”

  “Since our freshman year, you’ve worked nonstop. You’ve sacrificed nights out, parties, football and basketball games, and you’ve always put school first. When you’re in London, I want you to have the best time and experience it all—I’m talking about every bit that comes your way. I want you to put fun first.”

  Just because I’d gotten in didn’t mean I could stop studying the minute I got there. I would have fun, the same way I did in Boston; I’d just have to find a balance.

  “I’ll—”

  “I’m not done, missy.” She smiled. “I also want you to grab ahold of the sexiest single British man you can find, and I want you to let him fuck your brains out.”

  My cheeks were so hot; they felt sunburned, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re crazy. You know that, right?”

  Her fingers grasped my arms as though she wanted to emphasize. “It’s time, Chloe.”

  It hadn’t been my plan to be a virgin this long, nor was it intentional. But I’d learned very early in high school that I didn’t have time for it all. Something had to be sacrificed, and it ended up being boys.

  I held her with the same force, so she knew how serious I was. “I’ll go to England with the most open mind, I promise.” As I pulled my best friend in for another hug, I was hoping some of the nervous energy would loosen.

  But it was still very much there, matching
the excitement I had felt when I got accepted to BU, knowing then that my whole life was about to change.

  The same way I knew right now.

  “You’re never going to want to come back,” she whispered.

  I hoped she was right.

  Two

  From the moment I landed at Heathrow Airport, I saw similarities to New England everywhere I looked. In the narrow cobblestone streets and the architecture, even in the foliage.

  It made me feel right at home.

  And with help from my roommate, a junior from South Africa in the same program as me, we spent the first few days learning our way around the city and our campus and the area where our dorm was nestled. So, by the time classes started the following week, I was able to find the building with ease.

  First thing Monday morning, I dressed in my warmest clothes and walked the three blocks, slowing when I reached the building. I unzipped my coat as I headed down the long hallway, entering the classroom from the back. It was smaller than I was used to with less than thirty desks, several already taken. I went for the middle row, hung my jacket on the back of the chair, and began to set up my laptop.

  I was just opening a blank document onto my screen when I heard, “You’ve got a good twenty minutes before the professor says anything worth typing, so you might as well enjoy the scenery for a bit.”

  It had been spoken in my ear from the guy sitting behind me, a chair that had been vacant when I first sat down. I barely processed his words because I couldn’t get past his voice. I was melting in it—in the depth of his tone, the grittiness that pushed through each syllable, and how all of it was wrapped in the most delicious accent.

  I’d heard accents from the moment I stepped off the plane. His was no different, but it was his sound that stood out.

  And it demanded all of my attention.

  A heat suddenly moved through my cheeks, and I reached for the scarf around my neck, pulling it away from my skin. I continued to hold the material as I turned around.

  I wasn’t sure what I expected to see. It was impossible to envision a face out of just noise.

  But what my eyes landed on … I was not prepared for at all.

  His eyes were a light blue, his hair a chestnut brown, and he had a short but unruly beard that covered almost half of the most handsome face I’d ever seen.

  But it was his gaze that caused the air to leave my lungs and for my body to burst with tingles.

  And as I took him in, swallowing his stare, I was never more thankful I had something to hold on to. I pierced the thin material with my nails and searched for my breath.

  No matter where I looked, I couldn’t find it.

  Not with his eyes on me.

  Not with my eyes on him.

  I glanced away just to give myself a break. I wasn’t gone for long. I couldn’t be. And once I connected with his stare, all the air I’d gained back was gone.

  He’d drained me.

  Again.

  And then he stretched out his hand in my direction with an urgency that told me he needed to know what I felt like and said, “Hi.” There was a slight pause before he added, “I’m Oliver Bennett.”

  With the same curiosity, I clasped our hands, and I was transfixed by his strength, at the length of his fingers, and the size of his palm. His skin wasn’t sweaty. It was just hot, warming me from the outside in.

  “Chloe Kennedy.” I was shocked at the sound of my voice. I had no idea where it had come from, but it felt right to give him my name.

  “You’re American … I fucking knew it.”

  My brows rose. “How? You hadn’t heard me speak.”

  “Ah,” he sighed, but it was different than just releasing a breath. He did it gradually, his lips drawing in my attention as they widened into a smile.

  One that was positively beautiful.

  I focused on his grin until it became obvious.

  Then, our gazes locked, and he added, “I could smell it on you.”

  I laughed, mostly out of nerves and not knowing how to respond and because I believed that a guy with a stare as experienced as Oliver’s could smell it on me.

  I glanced down, needing a break again, my chest so tight, as I was overwhelmed from his eyes.

  I hadn’t had feelings like this back at home. I hadn’t ever been early to class, my schedule was far too tight to allow that, and I just hadn’t had time for conversations like this one.

  This moment taught me how much I had been missing.

  “Where are you from, Chloe?”

  I waited for the air to move into my throat before I could say, “A small town on the coast of Maine, but I go to school in Boston. Or did.” I laughed, and it was so needed. “I mean, I’m just here for the semester.”

  He said nothing for several seconds, the passion in his gaze intensifying, and my hand began squeezing the scarf with a whole new kind of force.

  I didn’t know why, but it felt like I was standing completely naked in front of him, baring my soul, and it was so hard to breathe.

  I couldn’t remember a time when anyone had ever looked at me the way he was right now.

  “Have you been to London before?”

  As I shook my head, I saw the other students begin to fill into the room, and I knew class would be starting soon. “First time to Europe.”

  “You’re daring.”

  “It probably was a little crazy of me, but”—I inhaled and swallowed, and both were so difficult—“I’m here.”

  “Yes”—his eyes dipped and came right back—“that you are.”

  “Welcome to International Marketing, Planning, and Strategy,” the professor said from the front of the class.

  Except my back was to the teacher and I was facing Oliver.

  I gave Oliver a smile, he returned it, and I reluctantly turned around.

  Even though my hands were on the keyboard as I waited to hear something worth typing, my mind was on the gorgeous guy behind me. And while the professor lectured, I couldn’t stop thinking about the way he had looked at me, how his lips had lifted when he grinned, how I could even feel his charm in the air.

  How he was sitting only inches behind me.

  It was those thoughts that kept my mind so busy that I didn’t hear the dismissal of class. And I didn’t know until I saw the movement on both sides of me, telling me it was over.

  I glanced back at my computer screen and saw I hadn’t typed a single word.

  This wasn’t the way to start the first class of the semester, and I was so disappointed in myself.

  I closed my laptop and reached for the bag on the floor, sliding my computer inside. I stood to put on my jacket, and just as I turned, anxious to see Oliver’s face, I saw he was gone. I glanced toward the door, hoping to catch the back of him, but I didn’t get that either.

  I didn’t know why; I didn’t know how it was even possible.

  But I missed him.

  Three

  I was standing in front of the case of sandwiches at the market by our dorm. I wasn’t sure how many times I’d read the short descriptions under each variety, but the more time I stood here, the thicker my tongue got.

  I had officially survived my first night out in London, and I was positive it would be a while before I could stand the sight of another beer.

  If we’d had something in our fridge back at the dorm, I wouldn’t have forced myself out of bed. But my stomach couldn’t wait for food to be delivered, and this was the only way to soak up all the alcohol, helping me recover from one of the worst hangovers in my life.

  “Can I make a suggestion?” I heard from behind me.

  It was that voice again. That accent. The one from two days ago that had come minutes before the start of my International Marketing class.

  The one I’d thought about almost every moment since.

  Out of all the times I could have run into him, I wouldn’t have chosen now. Not when I hadn’t showered and I was dressed in yoga pants, a wrinkled tank buried be
neath my jacket, a messy bun on top of my head, and last night’s makeup that I still hadn’t washed off, hidden behind my aviators.

  But at this point, there was nowhere to hide. So, I croaked, “Please,” and hoped he could hear the embarrassment in my voice and offer me a cure. “I will try anything to make this go away.”

  He moved closer, and my entire body stiffened, a movement that ricocheted through my stomach, causing me to almost dry-heave.

  He paused there for what felt like forever, and then I heard a laugh and, “You got pissed last night, didn’t you?”

  He’d smelled me.

  I had no idea how I felt about that, and my stomach wasn’t going to give me a chance to even think about it.

  “Help me,” I groaned.

  “The cure isn’t in that fridge.”

  I couldn’t put it off any longer, so I gripped the strap of my purse that hung across my body, and I slowly turned around to face him. I was so thankful I’d remembered to put on sunglasses, so they not only hid the disaster that was behind them, but also the way I was gawking at him.