Returning to Her

Copyright © 2023 by Alexa Blue All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This book is a work of fiction. Any reference to real events, people, or places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons; living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Contents Foreword Playlist Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Epilogue Mailing List Afterword When my secret pen-pal returns from the war, I have two options; Pretend I don’t know him. Or Openly acknowledge I’ve been sending him letters on the down low. The only problem is that Ryder, the bad boy I’ve been sending letters to, is my stepbrother. The other problem is that Frank, his father, has forbidden anything between us. I have a lot of respect for Frank. He’s a good guy and the first guy that genuinely makes Mom happy... But staying away from Ryder becomes easier said than done when I meet him—when his bad boy charm beguiles me and leaves me begging for more… I know I shouldn’t, but I need to learn more about this bad boy with a secret past. I need to break the walls that divide us. I need to know that he’s returning to me… This one is for the man that makes me smile. Here’s to us, and our bright future ahead. Adore You — Harry Styles I Feel Like I’m Growing — Two Feet Streets — Doja Cat chaotic — Tate McRae Sweat — ZAYN Hard For Me — Michele Morrone Layla Hey Butterfly, It looks like I’m coming home earlier than expected. See you soon ;) I sneak one final glance at the letter from Ryder. His bad handwriting is faintly lit up by the full moon that bathes the inside of my stepdad’s big’o Ford truck. After releasing a sigh, which emerges as steamy vapor against the cool winter air, I fold the letter and stuff it back inside my purse. I’ve treasured every letter he’s sent me, but this one, though short, is extra special. This will be the last letter from him. Every interaction from here on will be in person. The thought fills me with both excitement and fear. Dammit, Layla. Get a grip. Fantasizing over a man I haven’t met is not me. I’m the girl that has given up on the ever-elusive idea of ‘love.’ Love may belong in Disney fairy tales, but it has no place in the real world. That’s a lesson I’ve had to learn the hard way. After clicking my seat belt into place, I focus on steadying my breath as I fix my gaze on the dark road ahead of me and stare aimlessly. “Oh, crap!” I shriek as a blinding strike of lightning booms in the distance. This is soon followed by raindrops splattering against the windshield. I’ve only lived in this town for a year now, but even I know rain in winter is unusual in Oakfield. Then again, with all the weird stuff that’s been happening in this town lately, nothing surprises me anymore. I shift my thoughts back to him. In the next few moments, I will meet my pen pal. My pen pal—I have to remind myself—and that’s all he’ll ever be. Even if we wanted to, we could never be anything more than step siblings. Ryder’s my stepbrother, and me fantasizing about a man I haven’t met, who also happens to be family, is wrong on so many levels. I shouldn’t have these thoughts. I shouldn’t be fantasizing about him. I shouldn’t be hoping for more. I know this. But why can’t I shake these butterflies fluttering about in my stomach? Why can’t I stop the nervous tension coiling at my core at the thought of finally meeting him? Why can’t I shake the voice in the back of my head telling me that, technically, he’s not family since he’s my stepbrother? With a sigh, I clutch my necklace, my fingertips tracing along the silver chain until they reach the engraving on the silver pendant that reads, SOLO. I got it after my last relationship, which left me bruised, battered and scarred. It took me years to rebuild my confidence, and this necklace serves as a reminder that I don’t need a man to make me happy. “Dad gum it!” Frank’s southern accent booms beside me. My stepfather clambers into the driver’s seat and slams the truck door shut before sticking the key into the ignition. He tilts his head in my direction and, with a smile in his voice, says, “Darn, Lay. We’re running late, but come hell or high water, we gon’ make it on time.” “Well,” I chirp with a hint of sarcasm as I reach for the towel to wipe the fog from the windshield, “if you and mom weren’t sneaking hugs and kisses every five seconds, we wouldn’t be running late, now would we?” I raise a playful brow at Frank. Another streak of blinding lightning flashes, bringing with it the promise of more rain. Frank chuckles. “What can I say? Your mama put a spell on me. Buckle up, darling. The weather doesn’t look too great, so we best get going.” Frank turns the ignition, and the engine breathes to life, tires skidding against the gravel road beneath us as we take off into the night. Frank switches on the radio, and the familiar robotic yet gloomy voice that only makes an appearance when there’s bad news sounds through the speakers. “The National Weather Service has issued a warning for the following counties—” Visible panic strain’s Frank’s features, but before I can hear more, he switches over