Worth the Risk

Worth the Risk L.L. Whit Skye High Publishing Copyright © 2023 by L.L. Whit 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. Cover Design: Moonshot Covers Interior Design: SSB Covers and Design Editor: Swish Design and Editing Publisher: Skye High Publishing Contents 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 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 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Chapter 43 Chapter 44 Chapter 45 Epilogue Acknowledgments About the Author Chapter One Kylie As I step out of the bathroom, my best friend, Sierra, says, “I’m so excited for tonight.” I’m excited as well. This will be the first time I’ve been out with my friends in a long time. I have been keeping a low profile, hiding from everyone who knew what I didn’t want to believe. My ex-boyfriend is a cheating asshole. I’m embarrassed at being ignorant and trusting for so long. It’s quite the scandal in our circle of friends. We’re heading to a party at Becca’s boyfriend’s house. Unfortunately, Luke is friends with James—aka the cheating asshole—so I’m sure he will be there. It will be my first time seeing him since we broke up, and I cut contact five months ago. “No better time than the present,” I say. I thought I would be more nervous. Seeing James or Beth will sting a little, but I refuse to tuck my tail between my legs any longer. I’m stronger than that. Sierra embraces me. “I’m so glad to have my friend back. I hate what he did to you. You’re amazing, Ky. You deserve someone who gives you forehead kisses and will treat you like the queen you are.” God, I love her. I won the best friend award when we met at eight, and I’ve been reaping the benefits of our friendship ever since. “First things first,” Sierra mutters dramatically. “Let’s get you a super-hot outfit. We’re going to make him regret losing the best thing he ever had in his miserable life.” She pauses, then heads to my closet. Next thing I know, I’m ducking shirts, skirts, shorts, and pants flying out at me. She is on a mission to find the perfect outfit. Sierra emerges with a black halter top, a short white skirt, and my black-heeled sandals. “This will do.” I retrieve the clothes from her, whip off my towel, and get dressed as I think of James and our time together. We started dating our senior year of high school. He was the jock every girl wanted, and I was the quiet, innocent girl who mostly kept to my small circle of friends. So cliché. At the beginning of our senior year, Sierra convinced me to spread my wings and attend a party. That’s where I met Mr. Asshole himself. Sure, I’d seen him around and thought he was cute with his shaggy brown hair, but nothing beyond that. He came up to me at the party and laid on the charm, and that was all she wrote. I fell hook, line, and stupid sinker. It started off great, and I thought I was the luckiest girl alive because he wanted me. Well, me and one other, it seems. Beth Peterson is the girl he was rumored to be hooking up with behind my back. He denied it, and I believed his tears and words of love for me until this past winter breakup and pregnancy scare. It wasn’t my pregnancy scare. No, that scare was reserved for him and Beth. The fall after graduation, I stayed in our hometown in the Poconos and attended a local university to study elementary education. I loved being home with Manda, Nana Amanda, and my lovely mother, Nora. Manda told me more than once, in her loving way, to open my eyes and stop being dependent on James for my happiness. She always told it as she saw it. He was not my one, she would say, and when I met my one, I’d know it. James came home for Thanksgiving break during our third year in college. He stopped by one evening after spending the day with his parents, and I could tell he was distracted. I asked if everything was okay, and he said yes. However, he got a text, seemed irritated, and responded to whomever before the night went on. We spent a couple of hours lying on my bed, watching Netflix. When James excused himself to the bathroom, his phone rang. I glanced at the bedside table where he left it and saw Beth’s name light up the screen. Irritated he hadn’t spoken to me, and seeing her name on his phone pissed me off, so I answered it and gave her a piece of my mind. “Hello?” I was greeted with silence. “What do you want, Beth?” “Did he tell you?” she asked, her tone smug. “Tell me what?” “I’m pregnant.” “And why would he need to…” I paused as the penny dropped. “It’s James’ baby,” she said. Stunned stupid and unable to find words, I dropped the phone to my lap. When James exited the bathroom, he glanced at me, then at his phone. Realization flashed across his face as he rushed to me, picked up the phone, said something to Beth, and hung up. He had a dreadful expression as he reached out to place his hand on my cheek. “Don’t touch me,” I