Falling For You: A Bragan University Novel
Contents
Prologue
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
Epilogue
About the Author
Also by Gianna Gabriela
BETTER WITH YOU, ALWAYS
Prologue
Chapter One
Not The End
Prologue
Not The Same
Prologue
Falling For You
Bragan University Series (Book Three)
Copyright © 2019 Gianna Gabriela
First edition, 2019
ISBN: 978-1096086369
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, or by any other means, without written permission from the author. The only time passages may be used is for teasers, blog posts, articles, or reviews, so long as the work isn’t being wrongfully used.
This book is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places, events, and incidents portrayed are solely from the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual places, people, events, or other incidents is coincidental or are used fictitiously.
Cover design by Sly Fox Cover Designs
Edited by Lauren Dawes
Proofread by Landers Editorial
Formatting by Affordable Formatting
To Chasidy,
To one of the biggest bookworms I know. Thank you for welcoming me into your family.
Love You Tons,
Aunt G
Prologue
ZACK HAYES
“Why are you crying, Mom?” I ask, entering my parents’ room through the already open door. My dad turns to look at me, his hands wrapped around my mom’s as they sit together on the edge of the bed.
“I’m not crying,” she says, trying to brush away the tears falling down her face. “I just had something in my eye.”
Why is she lying to me? I know something’s wrong. I may be young, but I’m not clueless.
Walking farther into the room, I notice the way my father looks at her with concern. He usually looks so relaxed, and the fact that he isn’t now tells me something’s not right.
“Mom, you said lying is bad. Why are you lying to me now?”
Her eyes widen a little at my declaration. “I-I know I did. I’m sorry, son. I won’t lie to you again.” Another tear slides down her face, and she turns her head, trying to hide it. “I just don’t want you to worry.”
“You’re crying. How could I not be worried?”
“Zack,” my dad says softly. “Why don’t you head back to your room?” It’s not a question; it’s a command.
I linger, unsure, until my mother says, “Please, son. This is a conversation for adults. Why don’t you go watch some T.V.?”
I want to shake my head, but I’ve been taught better; I have to listen and respect them. “Do you promise to be okay?”
“I promise we will be,” my mom says and my dad nods. I turn around and walk toward my room.
If my parents promise things will be okay, they will be.
* * *
EMMA WILSON
“I wish we’d had a son,” I hear my father tell my mother. His tone is sweet, but his sweetness doesn’t mean his words don’t hurt. I feel them in my chest like an invisible crushing weight.
He wanted my mother to have a boy.
In other words, he’d hoped I wasn’t what I am: a girl.
“You know I couldn’t control that,” she tells him lovingly. I’m watching them from where I’m playing with my dolls on the living room floor.
They remain on the couch, carrying on with the conversation, clearly unaware that I’m listening to their every word. Maybe they think I’m too young to understand what they mean.
“I know. It’s just… I won’t ever have a little boy to teach sports.”
“We could always adopt,” my mother replies. I wish she’d said something else. She could’ve told him he could always teach me. Girls can like sports too. I could learn to like them, but he won’t even give me the chance.
“It wouldn’t be the same.” I don’t linger to hear what else my father has to say. I’ve heard him loud and clear. I’m not good enough for him.
Dad wanted a boy. He was going to name him Emmett—after him.
He doesn’t want an Emma.
Leaving my dolls behind, I run up to my room, shut the door and start to cry.
1
ZACK
“Congratulations!” a pretty brunette says, smiling up at me. I wink at her from my place on the makeshift stage. The ballroom is full of people, all drunk from the pregames, ready to party. Surrounded by a few members of my football team, I feel invincible as I take in the room, basking in the cheers of the crowd.
“Let’s go Lions!” someone screams, and all of a sudden, the whole room is united in the same battle cry.
Roar, Lions, Roar!
“Settle down, settle down,” the University President says after a moment. The crowd continues to yell, disregarding her attempts to get their attention. “Let me say a few words and then you can all go back to celebrating,” she adds.
Nick takes the microphone from her hand. “Shut up, everyone!” he shouts and the room instantly settles down. I shake my head at the shit-eating grin on Nick’s face as he passes the microphone back to the president.
The president mouths her thanks to him. “I just wanted to congratulate the football team for an outstanding season.” She looks back at all of us with pride in her eyes. “But we’re not done yet! Let’s win another championship!” she adds and the crowd goes crazy again.
As soon as it’s clear the president has nothing else to add, I notice Chase getting off the stage, like the attention from the crowd bothers him, but Nick and I, and the rest of the guys, take it all in for a few more minutes. We’re at the top of the school—always have been—but this party is for us.
We won’t have to clean up afterward either, which makes this celebration even better.
“Let’s get drunk!” Nick says, putting his arm around my shoulders.
“Let’s do it!” I respond and we both take the steps off the stage.
I’m immediately swarmed by girls. I put my arms around a blonde and the brunette I’d made eye contact with earlier, leading them to the drinks table and pouring myself a cup of the spiked fruit punch. The rest of the alcohol will come out as soon as the administration leaves. Tonight, I’m getting wasted.
“Pour me one too!” Nick says. He too is surrounded by a few jersey chasers of his own.
“To winning the championship once again,” I toast, lifting the plastic cup high in the air.
“To winning!” The words echo around me and I r
ealize the eyes of everyone in the room are still on us. You’d think they’d get used to us being here by now—that they’d be bored already. I guess no one can be tired of winning.
The music starts and the words of those around me are drowned out by the bass echoing off the walls. The focus shifts from us to the music as everyone starts to dance.
I turn to the blonde on my right and plant a kiss on her cheek. “Let’s party.”
Moving onto the dance floor, I finish the rest of my drink, enjoying the way the girls dance up on me.
“Shot?” Nick asks, holding up a red cup to my face. I look back at the drinks table to see that the bottles are finally visible. I guess that means the administration left as soon as the president finished speaking.
I peer inside. “What is it?”
He shrugs. “Who knows?”
I take the cup from his hand, we exchange looks, then take the shot.
Three shots later, I can barely register anything around me. What the hell was in those evil red cups?
I see the same blonde and brunette standing next to me, but I couldn’t tell you what they’re saying. I just smile and sway to the music, letting the alcohol drown out my thoughts. I take advantage of this moment, to celebrate the small wins—to celebrate the victories.
EMMA
I don’t know why I said yes. Maybe it’s because it was the first time Kaitlyn’s asked me to do something. Maybe it’s because I feel like I’m missing out on a huge part of college because I swore I wouldn’t do it.
“You look great!” Kaitlyn says, taking a few steps back to admire her work. The moment we left the Football House, she dragged me over to her and Mia’s place. After rummaging through her closet, she finally announced she’d found the ‘perfect outfit.’
Her words.
I’m now wearing a red, knee-length dress, my legs looking longer thanks to the heels she also insisted I wear. My hair is down, cascading over my shoulders in loose curls and my lips are a dark wine color.
“I don’t know.” I run my hands down the dress, hoping to miraculously make it longer.
“It won’t get any longer, Emma.”
I’ve noticed. I just wish it did. “Don’t you think this is too much? I mean, we’re going to the school’s ballroom,” I remind her. “It’s not even that fancy. Doesn’t that give me the right to wear jeans, flats and a t-shirt?”
She shakes her head as she runs her fingers through my hair in an attempt to style it. “You’ll be surprised by what everyone else will be wearing. You already said yes, so you can’t back out now.”
“Fine,” I give in. I’m already committed. I may as well get this night over with. I grab my glasses from the bed and put them on.
“No glasses!” Kaitlyn tries to remove them, but I bat her away.
I readjust my frames. “I need these to see.”
“You don’t have contacts?”
“Not at your place, and I don’t carry them with me.”
“Fine. Just… Only use them when you need them.”
But I always need them.
“Okay.”
Kaitlyn gives herself a once-over in the mirror, readjusting her ponytail and applying red lipstick. Then she grabs her purse and I follow her out the door.
I give her the same warning I give Zoe. “I won’t stay the whole time. Only two hours.” That’s my limit. Backyard bonfires are different from ragers—more low-key and less chance of running in to people I don’t want to see.
“Okay,” she tells me, locking the door behind her. Maybe I can get away with leaving before then. Kaitlyn seems independent enough to do her own thing. Honestly, I don’t know why she invited me in the first place.
We reach her car, get in, and head over to the ballroom for the party. “So, what year are you again?” Kaitlyn asks, her eyes focused on the road.
“I’m a junior.”
“It’s crazy that I hadn’t seen you around until Zoe started bringing you to the games.”
I don’t know about crazy. There’s got to be thousands of people at Bragan University that Kaitlyn doesn’t know.
“We ran in different circles.” Honestly, it’s more like she ran with the most popular circle, and I was a one-woman show.
“True. Well, I’m glad we’ve gotten to meet. I’m excited to get to know you more.”
“Me too,” I reply frankly. Aside from Zoe, there aren’t many people I’m close to—not even my parents. Kaitlyn offering to be a friend is not only unexpected but also appreciated.
I think about making small talk, but I don’t know what to say. “Do you read?” I finally say when nothing else comes to mind.
Kaitlyn makes a disgusted sound. “Absolutely not.”
Ouch. Maybe she and I can’t be friends?
“Why not?” I press. There’s always a reason why people don’t read—though most of them aren’t any good.
“I just… There’s so much school work to do.”
“What’s your major?” I wonder just how much work she actually has to do. It’d better be a ton if that’s her excuse.
“Business management, but honestly I came here to play volleyball and join a sorority.”
Interesting.
“And you’ve done both?” I know a little about the fallout with the sorority, but I don’t want her to think Zoe’s been telling me all her secrets.
“I have. I didn’t do either this semester though.”
“How come?”
“My family went through a rough patch last year and some things at school didn’t make it better.” Her answer leaves me with more questions, but I don’t push it when I see the way she’s clutching the steering wheel.
“So, business management, huh?”
She laughs. “I know. It’s so not what you expected, right?”
“I try not to have any expectations.” It’s easier to avoid disappointment that way.
“Well, I knew I wouldn’t get to play pro volleyball; I may have the height and some skill, but I’m not good enough.”
“I don’t know about that. I bet you’re really great.”
She shrugs. “Maybe next year I’ll pick it up again if the coach lets me.”
“So, why business management then?” I ask, moving the conversation away from sports. It seems all the new friendships I’ve made have sports as a connecting thread—which is not comforting.
Zoe has a boyfriend now and more friends, so the more distance I can put between the football field and me, the better. Then again, here I am going to a school-sponsored party celebrating the football players. I just hope not everyone is going to be there.
“—so yeah, I figured I should be trained to take over,” Kaitlyn finishes and that’s when I realize she’s been talking the whole time while I was lost in thought.
“That’s… Sorry, I missed the beginning of that,” I tell her honestly.
She peers at me suspiciously. “Are you nervous?” she asks.
I really wish I’d said no to coming. “A little,” I admit. “Would you mind telling me why business management again?”
“It’s what Colton and I are studying: business administration and management. Basically, when Colton gets drafted—and Nick likely will too—Dad will need someone to take over the family business. I wanted to have the tools to do it.”
“So, you’ll be running the family company?” That’s impressive.
Kaitlyn pulls into the parking lot and starts searching for a spot.
She drives into an empty space and turns off the car. “Basically, while Nick and Colton play professional football, I’ll run the family business.”
“That’s awesome,”
“I wish I were more of a natural at it. Alas, I’m not much of a school person,” she says, unclipping her seatbelt.
“Well, if you ever need help, I’d be happy to give you a hand studying,” I volunteer.
Smiling, she says sweetly, “I’ll keep that in mind.” She opens her door. “So, are you read
y to go inside?”
“Nope, but I’m going anyway.” It’s only for a few hours, I try to reason. Maybe even less than an hour. Together, Kaitlyn and I walk toward the ballroom. I can already tell it’ll be crazy in there if the pumping music is an indication.
“You know what, Emma?”
“What?” I ask as the brutal winter wind makes me wish I had a coat.
Kaitlyn smiles. “We’re gonna be good friends.”
2
EMMA
I’ve never seen the ballroom look like this in my entire life. Seriously. Even though I’ve only been alive for twenty years and counting, the number of people in this space have to amount to some form of fire code violation.
There’s also alcohol being served to minors.
I take a look around the room, staring at the students wearing the school colors like war paint.
I realize the only thing that’s missing is adults. I find it funny that the school throws a party then walks away. I guess plausible deniability is a thing.
“Want a drink?” Kaitlyn asks from beside me.
I shake my head. I don’t drink.
“Just one!” she presses.
“Maybe later,” I tell her, hoping she gives up. Once again, I regret my decision to come tonight.