Always Wanted Forever Read online

  Always Wanted Forever

  (Previously published as Xander Barns Series: Always Wanted, Wanted Always, Calling Forever)

  By

  Sarah Tork

  Always Wanted Forever

  (Previously published as Xander Barns Series: Always Wanted, Wanted Always, Calling Forever)

  Copyright @ 2015 Sarah Tork

  SMASHWORDS EDITION

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to it and purchase your own copy.

  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, any place, events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Images From: http://www.dreamstime.com/

  CONTENTS

  Title page

  Copyright page

  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 1

  Present day, Saturday April 20th 2013.

  Here’s a known fact, in life we’re going to meet a lot of people.

  Mostly semi–normal to normal people, with the odd bunch mixed in from time to time. I’d classify myself as part of the ‘odd’ category… and PROUD of it!

  At twenty-two years old, and if you asked my mom, my life was a disappointment for a number of reasons that included…

  1: Getting arrested for fighting with my ex – best friend Ronnie during my senior year of high school.

  2: Not graduating university.

  3: Working at an ice cream store at the age of twenty-two.

  4: And the biggest disappointment and offence of all… was breaking up with Ben, my boyfriend of five years.

  Number four however was the catalyst…leading me down a path where I’d meet ‘a man’ so incredibly FUCKED in the head, that he made me look…. normal?

  Anyways… here I was now, about to enter a room, looking like a million bucks (or at least a few thousand) all thanks to a makeover team from…. HELL.

  My father’s fiftieth birthday party, held in a party room at the Pacific Banquet Hall in Ottawa, Ontario, an event my mom probably had planned for months, yet I found out about it last MONDAY, and coincidently on the same day I’d met…. HIM.

  By the way, the last twenty-four hours… would haunt me for the rest of my life. Just so you should know, in case you wanted to bail out on hearing what happened yesterday morning, afternoon, night, and then this morning…. to me!

  It was wrong… very, very, very, very WRONG!

  The itch I felt deep down was real and it was going to take more than a bottle of body wash to get rid of it. Honestly, a team of doctors and skin burning lasers still had a way to go before I felt clean down there again.

  Damn HIM.

  Damn XB.

  Fuck it, there’s no other way to explain what I just went through except to start from the beginning.

  CHAPTER 2

  Wednesday October 31st 2012

  Ottawa, Ontario.

  Excuse me, sir, where’s your library card?

  I imagined asking Ben that in a hushed, sexy voice.

  Think phone sex operator.

  With my dark brown hair in a messy bun, a short black skirt, a pair of six-inch black heels that were a bitch to walk in, a tight red tank top with a black blazer over it, and lens-less dark framed glasses, I hoped it read ‘sexy Librarian’.

  Kyle Matthews’ annual Halloween bash was Ottawa’s best party of the year. I’d been invited every year since I was a freshman in high school. I pushed through massive clouds of smoke and through a layer of costumed bodies, trying not to step on any toes.

  The DJ raised the volume to a sick beat and the floor turned into a dancing frenzy. I pushed through and stopped in front of one of the drink stations. I squeezed through a pair of greasers who were too drunk to notice me cutting. Filling his red plastic cup at the keg was Ben’s best friend.

  “Hey number twelve, go long, you’re blocking the keg!” I called out at a zombie football player with dark brown hair gelled back.

  Charlie flinched, dropping the keg hose and spilling a few sprays of beer over his precious green and yellow jersey. Angrily, he craned his neck to see who had startled him. I expected him to calm down once he saw that it was only me, but his eyes just widened.

  “Marisa?” Charlie blanched, looking like he’d seen a ghost. “You came that’s…. great.”

  “I’m surprising Ben.” I explained, stretching to reach his ear, because even with heels on, elevating my five foot six –ish stature, he still towered over me at six foot three-ish.

  I twirled and posed in my costume, hoping he’d appreciate the effort since I didn’t normally try to be all sexy. His forehead creased despite the zombie makeup.

  “What’s wrong?” This was not the sort of response I thought I’d be getting tonight.

  He grabbed my shoulders and spun me around, pushing me towards the front door.

  “Outta the way… outta of the way!” Charlie screamed at monsters, goblins and clowns in our way. In front of the exit, the shock and confusion of his actions had worn off. I yanked out of his grip, spinning around to face him.

  “What the hell?” I yelled, flailing my arms out in a ‘what the fuck’ stance.

  He nervously glanced around the room and wiped pale green makeup off his forehead. “You have to go, Marisa. You shouldn’t be here right now.”

  “What’s your problem?” I yelled, beyond pissed.

  Will nothing I do ever make these people happy?

  “Are you too embarrassed to be seen with me too, Charlie?” I accused, my finger in his face.

  “No!” He pushed my hand down. “That’s not it, it’s just…. you should go home.”

  “Well, I’m not going anywhere ’til you tell me why you’re acting like a crazy asshole?” Crossing my arms, I stood firm. I was going to get some answers.

  “Marisa, you need – Oh shit!” He looked up and grabbed his forehead, uh-oh style.

  “What the hell?” I yelled, turning around to see what had him so riled up – not knowing that it was me who was about have her jaw drop in shock.

  “Ben?” I murmured, staring at Dracula with his cape around a short, red headed witch, plastered against the window from the porch and making out like crazy.

  *~*~*

  Tuesday November 20th 2012

  I pulled into the parking lot of a local park near both our houses. I could see him sitting on a picnic bench as I parked my beloved r
ed 2002 Ford Focus.

  Ben looked so cute in his university sweatshirt and basketball shorts. As I walked over, he flipped his hood off and turned to face me.

  Scowling.

  “I can’t believe you actually decided to show up.” He sneered. The tone of his voice made my blood boil.

  “I said I’d come, even though you don’t deserve to even speak with me. You should be thanking me. I’ve been more than generous giving you time you don’t even deserve!” I replied in a similar tone to his.

  He jumped off the picnic bench and marched to a halt right in front of me, towering over me with his six-foot-one frame.

  “What the hell are you talking about? You’ve been ignoring me for weeks!” he shouted back.

  “Why the hell would I want to speak with you, let alone hear your sad excuse? You were plastering your lips against that midget’s diseased lips!” I yelled back, tilting my head to face him. His eyes widened in disbelief, obviously flabbergasted.

  “Did you go see a doctor? No? Well, you should. In fact, I think I see a few red spots around your lips. Might be infectious.” I informed him snidely, digging it in the best I could.

  “Shut up, Marisa! You’re not funny at all!” he snapped back, jerking his jaw from left to right.

  Mission accomplished.

  “Yeah – okay – you’re not fooling anyone!” I snapped back, slightly quieter. I knew my face was red, even though I was trying to play it cool, like I didn’t care. I fucking did, though – so much so I was about to burst into tears. One wrong word and I was done for.

  “I was drunk out of my mind!”

  “Oh – so that’s the excuse you’re going to keep rolling with, you were drunk!”

  “Yes, it’s the fucking truth! I drank like crazy that night. I was all alone at a party for the thousandth time while you were working at an ice cream store!”

  My jaw dropped. “I can’t believe you!”

  “Well, I can’t believe you! You’re always late for everything, and expect everyone to always wait for you. The worst part is your fucking twenty-two and you still work at an ice cream store. You’re not even embarrassed, even though all our friends are getting real jobs and moving out!”

  That did it.

  “There is nothing wrong with my job! I love my job. At least I have a job; you still get money from your mommy and daddy!” I snapped back.

  He got in my face. “I have a university degree, and I’m trying to start a business! What the fuck are you doing with your life? Nothing! All you’re good at doing is acting like a pathetic waste of space!”

  Spiteful, low-blow number two, or two-thousand? I wasn’t sure at this point. I’d lost count.

  Silence.

  I needed to calm myself down before I retaliated.

  “Well then, I guess it was fate,” I told him slowly, quietly. “I’m such a waste of space, and you’re the one going places with your university degree and business plans. You’re doing yourself a disservice by being with a pathetic time-waster like myself.”

  I tucked my hands into my hoodie’s pockets and looked to the ground; this was going to be hard for me to do, officially do. But after what he did, after what he said to me, called me, I had no choice.

  I exhaled and continued. “I wish you the very best of luck in life…”

  Ben let out an exaggerated huff of disbelief, interrupting me, but I kept going.

  “I hope everything works out the way you want, and I hope you find someone that’s at the level you think you’re on,” I said slowly, lifelessly.

  I didn’t look up, I couldn’t look up. If I did, then game over.

  “What the fuck are you mumbling about?” Ben exclaimed, irritated, trying to play stupid, and pretending he didn’t actually hear me break up with him.

  I did.

  “You heard me – loud and clear. It’s over.” I told him, then quickly turned around and speed-walked toward my car.

  Get to the car – Now!

  “What?” Ben muttered loudly, confused. “Where do you think you’re going? We’re not done here!”

  I heard his frantic footsteps pound into the grass, trying to catch up to me, which he did in no time. Ben used to be on the track team during high school, winning sprints easily.

  “Stop making this all about you!” he yelled from behind me all of a sudden. I didn’t stop, but the speed-walking soon turned into running.

  “You’re making a fool of yourself!” he yelled right behind me.

  Arriving in front of the driver’s door, I faced him. He stopped running and was walking toward me, looking disgusted while shaking his head.

  “Go away, Ben, don’t come anywhere near me!” I ordered, but he didn’t listen. “It’s over, you don’t need to worry about me or what I’m doing, not that you did that before anyway.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Monday April 15th 2013

  Toronto, Ontario.

  I glanced at the 4Scoops-branded clock and cringed at the time. Five minutes to closing. The only thing that could make things worse right now was if someone were to walk in wanting ice cream. It’s not that it was hard work, scooping ice cream, but I was tired. I eyed dirty tables and sighed, depressed.

  Was this what my life had come to?

  “Ugh…. my life is boring! I wish something exciting would happen to me for once!” I yelled out to an empty store.

  Honestly, I still wasn’t sure what the right path for me was, but did I really deserve this shit type of labour?

  Was it a never-ending punishment for not sticking out university?

  For not going after a real job with a real career?

  For deciding that ten dollars and fifty-five cents an hour was better than studying something I didn’t care about?

  Yeah, I wasn’t a smart person at all.

  My brain must have stopped developing at the age of ten. I remembered I made amazing decisions back then, like trading carrots for gummy bears, and remembering who borrowed my erasers, demanding them back, no excuses.

  I had skills back then.

  I sighed sadly and an unexpected chime rang out. I turned in horror as the front door opened. Duty called, so I forced a smile before the customer crossed the threshold.

  “Welcome to 4Scoops, what can I get…you…huh?” I stumbled over my automatic 4Scoops greeting, my jaw dropping.

  A Greek God with the most amazing blue eyes just walked in.

  *~*~*

  Five minutes later… hot and bothered, party of one, that was me placing his ice cream in a cup to go with a plastic spoon in front of him on the counter.

  This is it. Goodbye beautiful oceanfront eyes. I thought sadly, punching his order in.

  I gulped the depressing thought away. “That will be $5.40, please.”

  His eyes never left me as he grabbed the spoon off the lid and popped it into his perfect mouth– it was like I was watching it in slow motion. He continued to stare at me while licking the spoon clean, making me wonder if he was trying communicate one of those silent ‘Come have sex with me, look at what I just did to this spoon, that could be you in five minutes’ messages. After a few moments of not responding, he released my eyes and gazed out the window.

  Why did he have to leave again? I didn’t want him to leave. I wanted him to stand there for the next hour, while I cleaned.

  He took the spoon out of his mouth, clutching it between his index and middle finger.

  Totally jealous of that spoon.

  He pulled out a perfectly folded bill, placing it in front of me and grabbed his cup of ice cream. “Thank you.” he muttered, and headed toward the door and out of my life forever.

  Hot.

  Fucking.

  Damn!

  Selling ice cream would never be the same again. Possibly the sexiest shift 4Scoops had ever seen, my face needed fanning….

  Eventually, I looked down at the bill he’d left on the counter, not sure if it was the right amount. Mr. Dennis, my boss would yell the crap o
ut of me tomorrow if my register was short.

  “Okay!” I clapped my hands. It was closing time.

  First things first, I locked the door before anyone else came in wanting late night ice cream…. although if they looked like him I wouldn’t mind. I pulled the blinds down and returned to the counter and stared down at the crisp, perfectly folded bill.

  I unfolded it.

  My jaw dropped. Oh my God!

  It was shiny brown paper.

  He’d left me a $100 bill!

  *~*~*

  The hallway where I lived smelled like garlic. Hip-hop music blasted loudly from my neighbour’s room. Sheila, my neighbour was… interesting. I didn’t know how she paid her rent, but I did hear her say… there was nothing like a good sausage biscuit sandwich in the morning and that it took two minutes to make enough money to buy one.

  Not even gonna go there…. just yet.

  Anyways…moving on.

  I lived in a Victorian style house and rented an average sized room with a bed and desk on the main floor. The landlord, Mrs. lee lived on the second floor and as long as rent was paid on time, no questions were asked about how we made our money.

  After changing into pyjamas and tossing dirty clothes into the hamper, I plopped down in the used leather desk chair I bought awhile back and opened my laptop. My Internet browser popped up quickly and I grinned happily. Mrs. Lee claimed that the room came with Internet, but what she failed to mention was how unreliable the signal was. The page loaded and my head shook when I noticed two emails from people I didn’t care to talk to.

  Ben and… Mom.

  She was such a traitor. The last conversation I had with her, right before I left her house to move to Toronto would scar me for the rest of my life.

  “I’ve never met anyone as selfish as you!” Mom yelled at me from across the dinner table, while cutting her steak into exactly ten small pieces. “Jesus, Marisa! You let your boyfriend of five years slip right through your fingers!”