Wilder Love

WILDER LOVE JADE C. JAMISON FREE NOVELLA OFFER Dear Reader, Want to connect with me and get a steamy novella exclusive for subscribers only? Join my newsletter (https://www.subscribepage.com/JadeCJamison) to get sneak peeks and find out when I’ve got a new release coming. Hugs! Jade CONTENTS 1. Train Wreck 2. Overdose 3. The Offer 4. Road Trip 5. The Big City 6. Fresh Start 7. A Darker Side 8. Lyrics 9. Love Song 10. Hope 11. A Mother’s Love 12. Aloha 13. Making Music 14. Firsts 15. Falling 16. Clean and Sober 17. Toxic 18. Austin 19. Taking the Stage 20. Mutual 21. A Kiss 22. Scorned 23. A Real Friend 24. Tension 25. Celebrations 26. Giving In 27. The Conversation 28. Dysfunction 29. A Losing Proposition 30. Confessions 31. Las Vegas 32. Birthday Debacle 33. All Apologies 34. Birthday from Hell 35. Happy Holidays 36. On Edge 37. The Spotlight 38. New Year 39. On the Road Again 40. Eruption 41. Fallout 42. Rock Star Life 43. Just Like Mom 44. Over 45. Alone 46. Malibu 47. Like a Ghost 48. New Beginning 49. Clean Break 50. Back 51. Fighting for Life 52. Resurrection Epilogue Excerpt from VERSES Let’s Connect! Also by Jade C. Jamison About the Author Copyright 2023 by Jade C. Jamison Cover images © racool_studio/ depositphotos and realcg/ depositphotos Editor: Michelle Ficht This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles, quotes, and reviews. Portions of this novel first appeared in the Kindle Vella story World Baby. Created with Vellum TRAIN WRECK When I met Elijah Wilder for the first time, I wasn’t sure it was him. Celebrities seem a little different in person—plus, when they’re in the most unexpected place, you doubt your eyes. Was that really Elijah Wilder—or just a guy who looked like him? But I’m getting ahead of myself a bit. Elijah and I should have never worked. We shouldn’t have even tried—but maybe I was too close to the forest to see the trees for what they were. I’ll tell you our story, and you can decide if you think we were meant to be together or if we’re doomed to fail. When we first met, I was going to school in tiny Obsidian, Colorado, smack in the heart of the state. A college education was my one shot at ensuring I wouldn’t become like my mother, but the longer I was there, the more I feared I was doomed to follow in her footsteps, no matter how hard I tried. That particular night, I was waiting tables at a restaurant a few blocks away from the university. If it weren’t for college kids, the place probably couldn’t have made it, because it wasn’t like the pizza and pasta were any good. The scents surrounding the restaurant seemed authentic and enticed customers, but maybe that was because it was better than the pans of tuna casserole and turkey tetrazzini the dining hall tried to pass off as edible. And, near the kitchen, the place was hotter than hell—which was better than the subzero temps outdoors. As usual, we were slammed and understaffed, falling way behind on orders—and that was when the sweetest little girl approached the waitress station. Even though I had a tray of drinks to deliver to a table, I paused, because that tiny girl with the darkest brown eyes, curly brown hair, and cutest dimples was on the verge of crying. Her tiny lower lip was trembling, her chocolate eyes welling up with tears. I couldn’t just pretend like she wasn’t there. “Damn it, Madison. Order up!” My bitchy boss Lauren was being her usual bitchy self, screeching like an owl from the kitchen. Ignoring her, I set the tray down and squatted beside the toddler to find out how I could help. “What’s wrong, honey?” I asked, not having a clue what to expect. “Mommy,” she said, but it sounded like a question. When she pointed that tiny index finger toward the kitchen, I said, “Sweetie, I don’t think your mommy’s back there.” No sane person would be there with Lauren going off the rails. But that was when the little girl’s tears started to fall in earnest. I couldn’t ignore her, so I picked her up, almost melting when she placed her tiny hands on my neck. Ramona, one of the other waitresses barely keeping up that night, asked, “Do you want me to take your order out?” “Yeah, if you don’t mind. I really appreciate it.” “No worries, girl. I think you’ve got the harder part.” “Thanks.” To the little one in my arms, I said, “Let’s go find your mommy.” Her little lips were turned into a pout, but she’d stopped sobbing now that I was walking into the main dining room. Jesus. It was a madhouse. All the tables were full and everyone was talking loudly so they could be heard over the din. It was so loud I could barely hear the shitty music playing nonstop in the background. The stupid restaurant wasn’t exactly family-friendly, something we’d complained to the manager about before, but she wouldn’t care so long as the college kids kept showing up with work-study money to burn. Something she could have easily fixed was the lighting, but she refused. The atmosphere was dim, and she said it added to the ambience. The other waitresses and I joked that it was only because people couldn’t see how shitty their food looked. But the worst part about Angelo’s was that all the booths were enclosed, like office cubicles,