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  SIX REASONS

  Book Three in the SIX Series

  By Randileigh Kennedy

  Copyright – 2015 by Randileigh Kennedy

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, people, or places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are simply products of the author’s imagination, and any similarity to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any way whatsoever without written consent from the author.

  To P.K. and R.K., for not just believing I could - but knowing I would.

  CHAPTER 1

  My theory on love is simple: every experience you have, it all relates back to your ‘first love’ experience. From then on, all of your subsequent experiences with love are always in some way reminiscent of your first experience. For instance, think back to that girl you knew in high school who had a crazy jealous boyfriend. Assuming she got away from that guy, she likely went on to date other crazy jealous guys. Perhaps that’s because she simply had an underlying attraction to that kind of guy, or maybe she thought after that first failed experience, that was all she deserved. Or conversely, maybe she went on to be the crazy jealous one in her subsequent relationships, simply because that’s all she knew. It became ‘normal’ to her and that was the love card she was dealt in life, all dating back to that very first experience she had with love.

  Another example would be that girl you knew who fell in deep romantic love in just a day or two, just for it to end suddenly. Or that girl who had a string of long distance relationships, who likely moved on to pen pal relationships with prisoners. I’m telling you, if you really examine your first love experience closely, you’ll see the similarities in your subsequent relationships.

  As for me, well, my first love experience was heart breaking and dramatic. They all usually end up that way, don’t they? I was fifteen years old, so naturally it felt as if the whole world was collapsing down around me. An older boy with a nice truck lured me in. That’s usually the first sentence of any high school romance story. This guy pined over me for months. Literally, months. And despite my resistance to his advances, he finally wore me down with his persistence. Before I knew it, I was in love. The first night he kissed me I thought time stopped. I thought I would infinitely feel fifteen; happy, giddy, irresponsible, and completely head over heels for this guy for many coming days. The next night we were supposed to meet up again but he didn’t show up. So naturally, I went to go find him, quickly realizing that is never the best thing to do. I found him alright; in a hot tub with another girl. And nothing good comes from teenagers in hot tubs.

  So this was the hand I was dealt. My whimsical romantic first love tale, ending before it began all because of a hot tub, a promiscuous girl, and a boy who would miss out on loving me.

  That experience changed me. I learned more from that one heartbreaking moment than I did in any of my school classes. I felt smart and empowered. I felt wise and exposed. I felt free. Free from love, which sucked, and free from hurt and disappointment. Most of all, I felt proud. Proud to know I was in control, and I knew from that day moving forward that I would never be let down by love again, simply by making the choice to never fall into its trap again.

  Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not some pessimistic downer of a person. Quite the opposite, actually. By realizing at such a young age that the whole ‘love’ thing wasn’t worth my time, I had a sense of freedom no other girls my age had experienced. I knew I would never have to deal with the heartache and letdown of it, so I was actually quite a happy girl. No love drama can really do wonders for a person’s mood and outlook on life. Of course my friends think I’m completely against someone proving my theory wrong. I understand that’s possible. After all, look around. There are a few genuinely happy couples that make it in this world, so I’m not in denial that it does in fact exist. But knowing the odds aren’t in anyone’s favor to get it right more than they get it wrong, I just choose not to bother with it at all. Once I meet someone and anything fun becomes anything serious, I’m out. Really, it’s a path more people should follow. Less antidepressants and boxes of tissues wasted on yet another Mr. Wrong when most people on the outskirts of love could’ve seen the catastrophe coming from a long way off.

  Bottom line, being single works for me. I’m happy and carefree. I’m adventurous and spontaneous. I’m unattached and unemotional. Could a man change all of that? Or more importantly, would I even want one to?

  There was one small downside to my triumph over the whole love trap though. Just because I had figured out how to trump all the love drama, that didn’t mean I escaped my friends’ drama as they dealt with their own love lives.

  As a perpetually single girl, I had to admit that I was really dreading my plans for tonight. The evening was supposed to be a girls night in, which I usually love. Sure, I prefer to be out on the town making my next bad decision, but every once in a while a little hiatus from that is nice. My best friends Mallory and Addie and I typically sit around drinking wine, painting our nails, watching sappy movies, and talking about all of our exes. Or in my case, guys I knew for a weekend. Tonight, however, plans had changed. We were supposed to sit around planning Addie’s upcoming bridal shower. Welcome to Snoozeville.

  Now don’t get me wrong, I was genuinely thrilled Addie was getting married to Griffin, one of my oldest friends. They really were perfect for each other. But I just never understood all of the crazy fuss around the details. Bridal showers, decorations, spending hours and hours on end looking for inspiration for one six hour party… I’ve just never been one of those girls. Granted I couldn’t stay interested in a guy for more than two consecutive weeks, so I was quite removed from the feeling that I would ever have to make wedding decisions.

  My doorbell rang at six, and I opened the door to find Mallory and Addie with arms full of wine, binders, and magazines. At least they got one of those right. We set everything down on my pub-style kitchen table and I began pulling out some of the food in my fridge.

  “So what’s on the menu tonight, Meg?” Mallory asked inquisitively. She knew I was a terrible cook.

  “Well, lucky for you my mom dropped this off earlier today,” I replied, setting a bowl of homemade chicken salad on the kitchen counter. “And these,” I added, laying out a few other dishes I pulled from the fridge.

  “Your mom cooked for us? Really Meg?” Addie chimed in, shaking her head. “You know we would’ve settled for a frozen pizza, right?”

  “Every time we have a girls night in at your place, you guys always put together amazing elaborate dishes,” I said defensively.

  “Meg, we make food for a living,” Mallory replied, motioning to Addie. “We work at a bakery.”

  “I only make the desserts at the bakery. She does the actually cooking for the catering side,” Addie responded, shaking her head. Ever since Mallory’s original bakery burned down, she was sharing kitchen space with her boyfriend Greyson, who owned an Italian catering company.

  “You’re an amazing cook too, Addie. You’ve really learned a lot. Even in the last month we’ve been in Greyson’s building, you’ve done quite a bit,” Mallory said appreciatively.

  “So I see you’re still calling it ‘Greyson’s building,’ what’s up with that?” I asked Mallory, changing the subject. It seemed pretty permanent to me, but Mallory was still getting used to the idea of Greyson as an actual business partner rather than just owning her own space like she used to. The love card she was dealt in life always involved trusting men who were far from trustworthy. Her very short engagement to a prior untrustworthy jerk was evidence of that. But her new boyfriend Greyson seemed t
o actually break the pattern.

  “Look, we’re here to talk about Addie tonight,” Mallory replied, clearly trying to redirect the conversation. “This is all about Addie and what she wants for her bridal shower.”

  “Come on Mal, it’s a valid question,” Addie shot back, clearly on my side.

  “Mal, no one is more afraid of commitment than me, right? I’m pretty sure we can all agree on that,” I stated. They both nodded in unison, smiling. “But I’ve never seen you happier. Why can’t you just admit to yourself that your relationship with Greyson is the real deal? He’s not going anywhere. I know it’s weird for me to say that, but I can call it like I see it. I get that you guys are pretty perfect for each other.”

  “I know,” Mallory replied sincerely as she grabbed some plates and utensils for us to use for dinner. “But don’t you guys ever feel like something is too good to be true?”

  “Yes, every Friday and Saturday night,” I mused. “And then the next morning I’m saying ‘what did I do?’ and then I’m brought back to reality.”

  Addie smacked my arm. “You know we can’t have conversations about love and relationships in front of Megan,” she said to Mallory. “She’s never had the real thing.”

  “That’s not true,” I retorted. “I absolutely loved Kevin Fitzharris in tenth grade. I really thought he was the one.”

  “He was our Spanish teacher!” Mallory screeched. “You are so screwed up, Meg. One of these days though, I’m telling you, the right guy is going to come along and it’s going to screw up your entire world in the best way possible.”

  “Yeah, except I’ll be dating his brother at the time,” I answered only half sarcastically. I didn’t have high hopes that any guy would ever truly be able to sweep me off my feet. Not at the pace I was running anyway.

  CHAPTER 2

  The next morning came way too early. I was awoken by Mallory and Addie making their way out of my apartment so they could get to their bakery by six a.m. They ended up crashing in my living room since we all had a sizable amount of wine the night before.

  Despite my slight headache, I was still eager to lace up my running shoes. My best friend Steve knocked on the door promptly at six-thirty so we could head out for a four mile run. We were training together for a half-marathon coming up next month. It was a little dare we had arranged earlier this summer. Every June, my friends and I had an annual camping trip. We would each pull names out of a box prior to that weekend, and once we were all seated around the campfire, each person would get one dare from whoever drew their name. It was always something positive to help encourage the other person to do something good, and they had a year to complete the dare. As much as Steve enjoyed drinking beer and lying around watching sports, I thought running a half-marathon would be something good for him. Plus, I wanted to do it as well, so this way I wouldn’t have to run alone. It was a great use of the time we usually spent together anyway.

  As I opened the door for him, he stood there looking relaxed in his black Nike running pants and a soft grey t-shirt.

  “Why are there so many empty wine bottles on your coffee table?” Steve asked, looking into my living room.

  “Because I had to talk about bouquets and veil lengths for seven hours last night,” I replied, rolling my eyes. Steve and I had been close friends for more than ten years. We had a very brief ‘thing’ once in college, but of course that was a mistake. We didn’t want to risk our friendship over pursuing whatever that was. I had been friends with Mallory since grade school so we were close too, but Steve and I had a unique bond. I always felt like he understood me better than anyone else. Or at the very least, he was less judgmental than our other friends.

  “Hey, I’m getting it too on the guy side,” he said with a smirk. His hazel-green eyes were warm and comforting, and his messy blond hair suited his outgoing personality. He was a very handsome guy, but our friendship helped me ignore it. “Griffin asked me if I had a preference on the tuxes. I told him to never ask me a question remotely related to fashion ever again.”

  “I can’t believe our friends are getting married,” I said, tying my long, straight dark hair back into a ponytail. “First Addie and Griffin, and then I’m sure Mallory is next. She is so smitten. And surprisingly Greyson seems like the perfect guy for her, so I can’t even come up with a reason why that shouldn’t happen,” I said as we took the elevator down eight floors. My apartment building was a high rise in the somewhat trendy area of downtown. There were cute boutiques and cafes everywhere. My place wasn’t exactly spacious, but the view of Lake Tahoe was breathtaking. It was definitely worth the inconvenience of living eight stories up.

  We headed outside to our usual warm-up spot. There were some pretty nice running paths within just a few blocks from my apartment. The paths cut down around the lake and had magnificent views just like a postcard. It was one of my favorite things about living in Mountain Ridge, Nevada. The outdoor scenery was amazing.

  “Speaking of Mallory and Greyson, I’m still picking you up for their thing tonight, right?” Steve asked as we headed out on our predictable route.

  “Yeah, their grand opening. At least between his catering side and her bakery now all in the same building, we know the food will be good. It starts at seven, right? What time are you coming by? Six-thirty?” I asked, breathing in the crisp, early morning air.

  “Well, if it’s not too weird for you, I was kind of thinking about bringing a plus one tonight,” he replied, studying my face for a reaction. “But we can still come by and pick you up.”

  “You? A plus one? What happened to our quest to stay single until death?” I said, throwing up my arms.

  “That’s your quest, Meg. Not mine,” he said with a laugh. “It’s nothing too serious. Not yet, anyway. But we’ve been talking for a few weeks and I really like her. I think it’s time for her to meet the group.”

  I had to admit, I was pretty shocked by this conversation. Steve wasn’t just my best friend, but he was also my go-to plus one. We showed up everywhere together. He was a great guy, so sure, I would love it if he found someone. But I just wasn’t ready for him to find someone now. I actually wondered if I would ever be ready to give him up.

  “I’ll just meet you guys there, it’s no big deal,” I said nonchalantly. I definitely didn’t want to be a third wheel, that’s for sure. It wasn’t my style.

  We finished the rest of our four mile run in silence. Afterwards Steve asked if I wanted to get breakfast somewhere, but I declined. Something felt off. I was happy for him that he met someone. He was such a good, genuine guy, so I really wanted the best for him. He had dated a few girls in the last couple years, but nothing ever came of them. He always joked it was my fault. He said the girls he dated always felt threatened by our close friendship and ended up getting jealous and crazy. I wasn’t sure how true that was, but I was strangely comforted by it nonetheless.

  “Megan,” Steve said, waving his hand in front of my face, snapping me out of my daze. “So we’ll just meet you there at seven? Are you sure?”

  “Sorry, I was thinking about some work stuff,” I lied, feeling completely distracted. “I’m volunteering at the animal shelter all day today, so my mind is a little muddled. Seven is perfect. I can’t wait to meet her,” I said, giving him a quick hug. We parted ways outside of my apartment building, and I took the elevator back up, annoyed at myself for not taking the stairs.

  Great, now I had to go to this party alone tonight. At least all of my best friends would be there, but I hated showing up by myself. I was sure of one thing, however - even though I would arrive by myself, I was fairly confident that my night wouldn’t end up that way.

  CHAPTER 3

  I meticulously straightened my long, dark hair and spent a little more time than I usually did on my make-up. Getting ready to head out on a Saturday night was one of my favorite things. I carefully selected a form-fitting black dress and some fairly tall heels. I was already five-foot-nine, but I loved the way my a
lready long legs looked in three-inch heels. I had a pretty decent tan going from the summer, which really brought out the green in my eyes.

  Once I was satisfied with my appearance, I grabbed a small clutch purse and headed out the door. Although it was close to seven o’clock in the evening, the air was still warm enough to keep the top down on my silver convertible. I loved the way the wind felt blowing through my hair. It made me feel free and careless, and although I appreciated mess-free hair, the wind was worth the sacrifice. Since we lived so close to the water, a lot of my friends had Jeeps or pick-up trucks. We would pile in the truck beds, driving around to the popular beach areas. Very few other experiences beat the feeling of driving down a highway to the lake with the air moving all around me. It made me feel infinite, and nothing else gave me that high.

  As I headed out to the party, I subconsciously made a wrong turn towards Mallory’s old building. Her original bakery burned down, which was devastating for all of us. I felt so bad that such a horrific thing had happened to such a wonderful, hard-working person. That bakery meant everything to her, and she and Addie had been working so hard to build up business before the fire. Her boyfriend Greyson encouraged her to move her bakery into his new building, despite her reluctance. There was plenty of space for both of them, and he did an amazing job with the renovations. Steve helped out with a lot of the remodel as well, just as he had done in Mallory’s original building. The new space she shared with Greyson was really cute, and it suited both of their personalities. The colors were vibrant and they had unique modern light fixtures through the entire space, kind of like an art gallery. They kept the business names separate on the outside of the building, upon Mallory’s insistence, but there was only one entrance into the place. One side of the counter space was for her Sweet Cheeks Bakery, and the other side was Luca’s Italian Catering Company. They were finally having their official grand opening tonight, and I couldn’t be any happier for my best friend.