It Was Always You
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About this ebook
Aria Carmichael and Nate Dixon have the perfect friendship—completely ignoring the fact that they’ve been in love with each other for the better part of twelve years.
When a night filled with too many drinks lowers their inhibitions, they both question if they could take their relationship to a new level.
But a job opportunity threatens to put more than just physical distance between them. Will their romance end before it’s even truly begun?
Ashelyn Drake
Ashelyn Drake is a New Adult and Young Adult romance author. While it’s rare for her not to have either a book in hand or her fingers flying across a laptop, she also enjoys spending time with her family. She believes you are never too old to enjoy a good swing set and there’s never a bad time for some dark chocolate.
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Book preview
It Was Always You - Ashelyn Drake
Chapter One
Aria
Aria Carmichael is not a quitter . Dad’s voice rings through my head as I stare at the closed door to Mr. Monohan’s office. Not that I’m thinking of quitting. The opposite actually .
Would you get in there already?
Nate’s hands clamp down on my shoulders and immediately start massaging. You deserve this promotion.
I tilt my head back and look up at his almost turquoise eyes. His brown hair is longer than I’ve seen it since college, giving his face a more youthful look. Not that twenty-six is old by any means. You really think so? I’ve only been here for three years.
Almost four, and you’ve logged as many hours in that time as Oliver has in six years.
But Oliver Strauss is family, a second cousin twice removed or something like that, and his mother funds this paper. "You know he’s going to get the promotion. It’s pointless for me to even put in
for
it
."
Nate’s hands still and then fall from my shoulders. "So that’s it? In the twelve years I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you give up. When I wanted to go into politics, who was it who convinced me that journalism advertising was the better major? Despite my many arguments, might
I
add
?"
I spin my chair around to face him. "You’re too honest for politics. You wouldn’t have lasted
a
day
."
So you kept telling me.
He huffs and places his hands on my shoulders again, but this time it’s to peer directly into my eyes. Aria, you’re going into that office even if I have to carry you through that door myself. Though that might not help you plead your case for being a go-getter.
He winks and gives me an encouraging smile.
"You really think I have
a
shot
?"
Of course,
he says with so much conviction I
believe
him
.
I nod. "Okay then. I’ll
do
it
."
Really? Just like that?
His head jerks back, not used to me giving in without a fight. "I thought I’d have to spend at least twenty minutes trying to
persuade
you
."
I bob my shoulders. "If you think I have a shot, then I must. I know you’d never lie
to
me
."
He pulls his hands away and rubs the back of his neck. Right. Now get in there.
He motions toward Mr. Monohan’s office.
Something about Nate is off. His eyes are lowered, and suddenly the stapler on my desk is very interesting to him. Is he second-
guessing
me
?
You okay?
I ask, reaching for
his
arm
.
"Yeah. Fine. Late night. Tired
is
all
."
Date?
I ask. He usually fills me in when he has
a
date
.
No. Couldn’t sleep.
He motions over his shoulder toward his desk. I should get back to work. It would suck if I got fired the same day you got a promotion.
He chuckles, and I relax, knowing he still believes I can get the position.
I take a deep breath and force my feet in the direction of Monohan’s door. The brass nameplate never looked so intimidating. The rigid letters of his name are both cold and uninviting. I stop before knocking, my hand poised in the air, and look back at Nate, who is leaning against my cubicle. He smiles and mimics knocking, as if I forgot how. I shake my head at him and knock.
Come in!
Monohan barks. Loud is the only volume he knows.
I turn the doorknob and enter the corner office. It’s large, and one wall is floor to ceiling windows. Priority isn’t a huge city, but we’re the largest for miles and resemble a smaller-scale New York City. Behind Mr. Monohan’s mahogany desk is the paper’s name and logo: Priority News: Where News is Our Top Priority. Even though the paper is strictly online right now, Mr. Monohan has high hopes
for
it
.
Ms. Carmichael, what can I do for you?
Mr. Monohan folds his hands in front of him on the desk. "Please tell me you got a good feature story you want to chase down, because news is slow today and I need something to fill these
pages
with
."
Sorry, sir, but that’s not why I’m here.
I lace my fingers in front of me to keep from fidgeting.
He motions to the chair on the other side of his desk. "Sit. You look a little shaky on your feet. Not sick,
are
you
?"
No. I’m fine.
I sit, crossing my legs and hoping to look more at ease. I’d like to talk to you about applying for the position of features editor.
Editor?
His brow scrunches. You’ve been one of my star staff writers. What makes you want to move to editorial?
I’ve always loved editing, sir. Several of the other writers have me proofread their work before submitting. They can vouch for me. And I know the strengths and weaknesses of the staff writers. I could easily assign stories accordingly.
I keep my voice level, not letting my emotions
overwhelm
me
.
I see.
He steeples his fingers and presses them to his mouth. You know Oliver applied for the position.
I nod. I’m aware.
And I’m sure you’re aware of his connection to this paper.
I can’t believe he’s going to openly admit to
nepotism
. "
I’m
—
"
A great writer.
Monohan stands up and walks to the window. I’d be at a loss without you as a staff writer.
Nepotism it is. Oliver is a great writer as well. His stories tend to make the front page.
I’m not about to make this easy for Mr. Monohan. If he’s going to cave to Marjorie Strauss, the least he can do is man up and admit it instead of hiding behind flimsy excuses.
He turns and narrows his eyes at me. "I see your point—or should I say points? He moves toward me.
Oliver reports news, which makes the front page more often than feature stories—he tips his head at me—
your area of expertise."
I suppress my smile at how he walked right into my trap. Yes, it is. Which is why I think I’d make the better choice for features editor.
Monohan laughs. "Would you mind telling my cousin that? She’s getting cranky in her old age and very protective of her boy, even if he is in his
thirties
now
."
Mr. Monohan, I know I could do this job well.
I stand up and face him directly. I’d even be willing to accept the position on a trial basis. Let me show you what I can do for two weeks, and then you can decide if I’m the right woman for the job.
My voice is stronger than I intended. If Nate were witnessing this, he’d be proud.
Mr. Monohan sighs and shoves his hands in his pockets. Since becoming editor-in-chief of this paper, I’ve had my hands tied on more than one occasion.
Because his cousin funds this paper so her beloved son, Oliver, can be a journalist like he always dreamed. But now Oliver is tired of being in the field and wants a cushy editorial position. One I’m better suited for. This
isn’t
fair
.
"Two weeks. That’s all I’m
asking
for
."
He purses his lips. You drive a hard bargain. Two weeks. At the end of that time, we’ll revisit this topic.
His eyes rise to the clock on the wall. Time for me to go home for dinner.
Thank you, sir.
I step forward and extend
my
hand
.
He shakes it but doesn’t let go. "I expect editors to
stay
late
."
I’m well aware.
He nods and motions toward the door. I take my leave, keeping my face void of emotion as I head to my desk. I hear the elevator door chime behind me as I sit down. Nate’s eyes are trained on me two
cubicles
away
.
As soon as the elevator doors shut with Mr. Monohan inside, I jump up and rush to
Nate’s
desk
.
You did it,
he says with a huge smile. I knew you would.
I throw my arms around him. Sort of. I have two weeks to prove I’m right for the position.
Nate pulls away and stares into my eyes, but he doesn’t
release
me
.
What?
I ask, not sure why he’s looking at me like... I’m not sure exactly.
You won’t need two weeks. You’re amazing, Aria. He’d be a fool not to realize that.
Nate clears his throat and turns away from me, suddenly going from my supportive best friend to awkward, shy advertising manager.
You sure you’re okay today? You’re acting kind of odd.
Nate dual-majored in journalism and advertising. He’s a great writer, but I never pegged him for wanting a position as an editor. Before he became advertising manager, I proofread all his stories for him. Plus, he encouraged me to go for the position, so that can’t be what’s wrong.
His eyes meet mine again. Have you heard from Aaron lately?
My stomach sinks at the sound of my ex-boyfriend’s name. "You mean since he dumped me via text message two weeks
ago
?
No
."
"You’re better off without him. The guy was
an
ass
."
I can’t argue there. Aaron cared more about his career than he did me. Everything was work, work, work. I’m sure he’s busy kissing every executive’s ass to get to the top.
Mom warned me about getting involved with a guy who would step on anyone to move up the corporate ladder. I stupidly thought Aaron would take me along for the ride. That we’d share in our successes together. But really, the only man I can count on other than my dad
is
Nate
.
One of these days you’re going to wake up and not even give him a second thought,
Nate says, and from the tone of his voice, I think he’s hoping that day comes sooner rather than later.
Chapter Two
Nate
The Chinese takeout on the passenger seat of my blue Ford F-250 smells like heaven after a long day. I stayed at the paper until I was finally able to convince Aria she’d clocked enough hours for one day. She’s a workaholic and determined to prove herself. I can’t help wondering how much of that stems from the way Aaron left her. He made her feel inferior, like she’d never amount to more than a staff writer. It took everything in me not to pound his face in when she called me up crying over his text message. Of course, I also wanted to celebrate her freedom from that douche .
I pull up to Aria’s apartment complex and take my usual spot. She gets two spaces, and I’m usually occupying one of them. I cut the engine, grab the food, and head for the
front
door
.
Mr. Dixon, nice to see you,
Mr. Sherman says as he steps out the front door. On your way to see Aria?
He pushes his wire-rimmed glasses up
his
nose
.
Of course.
I hold up the bag of Chinese food. "If I don’t feed her, she’ll never stop
to
eat
."
Mr. Sherman laughs. Don’t we know it!
Since meeting her four years ago when she moved in straight out of college, he’s become like a second father
to
Aria
.
I step into the building and head for the elevator. As soon as the doors open, I smell Michelle’s signature scent, a perfume she had designed specifically for her. It’s a combination of lavender and some other things I can’t place. All I know is it’s way too strong. Her flaming red curly locks bob as she steps out of the elevator.
Nate, I didn’t know you were stopping by tonight.
She smiles and steps toward me, but I maneuver around her and into the elevator.
In a hurry. Can’t let Aria’s food get cold.
I press the button for the third floor and then the one to close the doors. Michelle is harmless, but I don’t have the patience for her today. I’m still on edge over my conversation with Aria back at the office. I never should have brought up Aaron. All she did for the rest of the day was talk about him. After watching her be with him for five months, I’m officially done. I never liked the guy, and I know he never liked me. But what guy would like his girlfriend’s male best friend who’s so obviously in love with her? Well, so obvious to everyone but Aria. She has no idea how I feel about her, and it needs to stay that way. At least for now. At least until she’s completely over that asshole.
I can hear the TV in Aria’s apartment blaring as soon as the elevator stops on her floor. How she doesn’t get evicted is beyond me. But then again, Aria charms everyone. It’s hard not to fall for those baby blues that seem to look right into your soul. I shake the thought away and step out of the elevator. She’s the first apartment on the right. I don’t bother knocking since she wouldn’t hear it over the TV anyway.
Dinner is served,
I say, opening the door and holding up
the
bag
.
Aria is standing in the kitchen with a towel wrapped around her. My God! You nearly scared me half to death.
I’m surprised I don’t drop our food. Over the years, I’ve seen Aria in minimal clothing—tiny bikinis, pajamas that leave virtually nothing to the imagination... But this is a first for nothing but a towel.
She grabs the front of her towel to secure it in place. Let me get dressed. I just got out of the shower and was about to boil water for tea.
She motions to the
Chinese
food
.
Right. The tea bags are in here somewhere.
I bring the bag to the kitchen counter and start rifling through it, keeping my eyes anywhere but on Aria’s bare legs. It’s insane to think that after knowing each other for twelve years it’s too soon for things to happen between us or even for me to be honest about my feelings, but it is. I can’t lose Aria, and making a move now would pretty much guarantee
I
do
.
She heads to her bedroom and closes the door without clicking it shut. She trusts me not to peek, which I don’t exactly view as a good thing. It means she doesn’t think I look at her that way. Or she doesn’t see me that way, which is even worse.
So, what did you order this time?
she calls, and I see her shadow move across the doorway.
My mind immediately goes to thoughts of the towel on the floor. Aria’s naked body mere feet from where I’m standing. Stop it! I remove the cartons from the bag and grab forks from the drawer to keep
myself
busy
.
Nate?
Aria pokes her head around the door. Only her head. Which means she’s not fully dressed yet, if at all. Good God, someone kill
me
now
!
Um, chicken with cashew nuts for you, obviously.
Her favorite. "And I got pork
lo
mein
."
Egg rolls?
Of course.
"
Wonton
soup
?"
Damn it. I forgot the soup. "I’m sorry. Want me to run out and
grab
some
?"
She waves a hand through the doorway before disappearing again. No worries. It’s getting too hot for soup anyway.
"You sure? I don’t mind going
back
out
."
No. It’s fine,
she calls.
The teapot on the stove whistles, and I remove it from the burner. I grab two mugs from the cabinet over the stove and pour the hot water into them. I place a tea bag in each and carry them to the coffee table in the living room. Then I go back for the cartons
of
food
.
Mmm. That smells so good. I’m starving.
She walks out of the bedroom, gathering her hair into a ponytail while she heads to the couch.
You never ate lunch, remember?
She rolls her eyes and digs into her food the second I place it on the table in front of her. The deli screwed up my order. They put mayo on my sandwich.
She shivers at the thought, which makes me smile. She couldn’t be more adorable.
"I would have traded
with
you
."
You don’t like mayo either,
she says, holding up her hand to cover her mouth, which is full
of
food
.
Doesn’t matter. I would’ve tolerated it so you didn’t have to starve.
She bumps her knee into mine. You’re always playing the part of the white knight coming to my rescue.
You don’t need rescuing. You handled yourself with Monohan today no problem.
She takes another bite of egg roll and shakes her head. This time she swallows before talking. Only after you threatened to carry me into his office.
So you needed a nudge? You did the hard part yourself.
Enough about me. Tell me what’s going on with you. Why aren’t you sleeping well?
Her eyes lock on mine as she continues
to
eat
.
I wish I could tell her the truth. No, I wish I could show her. Take her in my arms and kiss her the way I’ve wanted to since freshman year in college. Instead I settle for, My allergies have been acting up. I can’t breathe when I lie down.
I shovel food into my mouth, pissed off at myself for lying.
I know what helps with that.
She puts her food down and motions for me to do the same. I do, and then she pushes the coffee table away from the couch.
What are we doing?
I
ask
.
I read inversion tables are great for relieving sinus pressure and headaches. I don’t have one, but we could use the couch to get blood flowing to our heads. Watch.
She sits backward on the couch so she’s facing the cushions. Then she swings her legs up over the back of the couch. Finally, she brings her arms over her head and leans all the way back so she’s hanging off the couch with her head a few feet from the floor. The blood rushes to her cheeks, making them rosy. "Come on. You
try
it
."
I’m not sure I’ll be able to get back up, but I can’t say no to her. I repeat her actions, though nowhere near as gracefully, so I’m dangling off the couch next to her. "
Like
this
?"
She laughs. "You look ridiculous
upside
down
."
Thanks,
I
say
.
I guess I probably do too, huh?
She smiles at me, melting my insides.
Yeah,
I say, but ridiculous
is the last word I’d use to describe Aria. She’s sexy in any position, which sends my mind