Anyone but Him Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Quote

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2014 Cassie Graham

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without prior written consent of the author except where permitted by law.

  The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Published by Cassie Graham

  Cover Design by Sprinkles on Top Studios

  Editing by Betsy Kash

  Formatting by Kassi Bland Cooper

  If you are reading this book and have not purchased it or won it in a verified contest, it has been pirated. Please respect the work of this author by deleting this copy and purchasing the book from one of its distributors.

  For my CCB’s, Erin, Jess, Kandi, and Ashlei. This one is for you. Thank you for the continuous laughs, support and love. I hope you know how much you mean to me. Here’s to many years of unbreakable friendship and shenanigans.

  “OH LANE, I LOVE YOU SO MUCH,” Ella promises with stars in her eyes.

  Ever so slowly, Lane brings Ella’s delicate hand to his lips, giving it one soft kiss.

  The surrounding patrons of the restaurant gasp as Lane reaches into his pocket to retrieve a little black box. On trembling legs, he moves from his chair to stand in front of her. Bending on one knee, he takes Ella’s hand in his.

  The string quartet appears out of thin air and begins to play a classical piece that wafts into the air like butterflies.

  Tears stream down Ella’s face as Lane opens his mouth. “I’m going to love you today, tomorrow, and forever. Make me the luckiest man in the world and marry me,” he pleads, reaching for the box he set on the table.

  Opening it, the bright ring gleams in the light, the pigments dancing on her face.

  “Yes,” Ella announces, taking in the faces of the strangers around her. They watch with rapt attention. Standing, she gives Lane a public-appropriate kiss and hug. When they let go, her lips tremble as she admires the ring on her left hand.

  “I seriously might vomit.” I cringe as I watch the couple a few tables down make a spectacle of themselves.

  Who gets engaged at restaurants anymore? It’s tacky, people.

  Theatrically, I bang my head on my rested arms that are sitting on the table.

  Holli’s eyes bulge as big as saucers. “Jesus, Whit. Shut up.”

  The restaurant is bursting at the seams with people, and I know for a fact no one is listening to me. They’d rather watch the show going on down the way from us.

  “Oh please.” I roll my eyes. “Those two are so far in their bubble, I’m sure I could scream some random-ass, crude comment and it wouldn’t faze them.”

  Holli grabs my arm, giving me a stern look. “I swear to the sweet baby Jesus that takes residence under our tree every year at Christmas, I’ll slap you silly if you say anything inappropriate to ruin their moment.” Her Texas accent rearing its ugly head, making itself known. That twang always seems slips out when she gets angry.

  I tickle under her wrist to get her to loosen the death grip she’s got around my arm and laugh. “Oh, I’m kidding.”

  Well—kind of.

  She shakes her head but smiles. “You have issues, Whit. Really. You have a boyfriend for goodness sake. Wouldn’t you want to get engaged with a grand gesture?”

  If Lark ever asks me to marry him at a restaurant while people watch, I’ll punch him in the balls.

  “First of all, I’ve been with Lark a whopping—” I look down at the invisible watch on my wrist. “Two months. We are nowhere near marriage.”

  Just thinking of the word wedding sends me into hives. I’m still young and have too much to do. I haven’t taken a cooking class yet, I still want to go to Europe, I haven’t sung at open mic night. The list is endless.

  “And second, we both know Lark isn’t the marrying kind.”

  Holli scrunches her face and raises an eyebrow. “Very true. Which begs the question.” She takes a bite of her apple walnut salad. “Why are you with him if you see no future?”

  Not this again.

  I groan. “What’s so wrong with wanting to have a little fun?”

  Her fork clangs against her plate and she laces her fingers together, placing them under her chin.

  Fuck, I’m in for it, now.

  “I’m sorry but you know how I feel about Lark. He’s a little—icky.”

  I level my eyes at her. He isn’t icky.

  “And he’s a total douche.”

  I’ll give her that. He thinks he is hot shit because he’s Camford-Hale’s leading man. He’s President of his frat and capitan of the football team.

  “He’s young,” I defend. At twenty-three, he has some growing up to do. “Plus, dating him comes with perks.” I waggle my eyebrows in suggestion, picking up my water, holding the straw to my lips.

  Holli gags. “That’s just gross. I don’t want to think about you having sex with that sleazeball. I’m sure he has a little peen.”

  I spit my water. “Holy shit, Holli! I wasn’t talking about sex, geeze.” I wipe the water dribbling down my face. “P.S. The commentary on his dick is so not appreciated.”

  Although, she is right.

  “I was talking about going to the best parties on campus.”

  I’m in the last year of my graduate program and with my major kicking me in the ass on a daily basis, it pays to have a good outlet. I’m only one month away from graduating with my Master’s in Secondary Education emphasizing in English with a minor in Creative Writing. To say I’ve been busy since I started college would be an understatement.

  I like that he can get me into all of the good parties. We have fun drinking and dancing the night away.

  “So you’re dating him because he can get you into good parties? That’s seriously sad, Whitley. You can do so much better than him.”

  I know I can, but being in a committed relationship is a lot of effort. That, or I just haven’t found a guy to tickle my fancy enough to actually want to have a long-term relationship. Lark is easy. Sometimes too easy, but that’s neither here nor there. He works for me at this time in my life.

  “I don’t want to do better right now. Why is that so hard to believe?”

  Holli huffs. “Because when you say it, I think you’re full of shit.”

  This is one of the reasons why I love her so much. She calls me on my crap. But at this very moment, she’s kind of pissing me off.

  “Can’t we just drop it?” I ask. I’m tired of talking about the lack of intimacy in my relationship. “Let’s move on. I haven’t seen you in two weeks. What’s going on with you?”

  The dim lights in the restaurant make it difficult to see her eyes and I squint to see her expression. Why did we pick this restaurant, again?

 
Oh that’s right, unless you have a reservation two months in advance, you can’t get a decent meal in L.A.

  She pats the corners of her mouth with the cloth napkin, and moves her hands to her lap.

  “Well, you know I’ve been traveling with Blaine.”

  I give her a look that says no shit, and nod my head.

  Her boyfriend is a photographer for Vogue and travels the world photographing models for huge designers. He’s hardly ever home. I have no idea how they make their relationship work, but they do. And they are insanely happy. I’m delighted for her, but sometimes their love makes me wish I had maybe, just a little of what they have with Lark. Although, I’d never voice that out loud. Those feelings are very few and far between.

  She continues, “Well, we were in Paris on the last leg of the shoot and—” She pulls her left hand from her lap and shoves it in my face, diamond ring and all.

  My eyes bulge.

  It’s then, I realize I just made fun of that couple, not ten minutes ago for getting engaged.

  I’m such a bitch.

  Despite my rude commentary earlier, I’m ecstatic.

  “Oh my God, Holli!” I exclaim, patrons of the restaurant now taking note of me. “How did I miss that rock? How did he propose? Oh my God!” I say again.

  Minus the fact that I think marriage is vomitroucious for me, I’m really happy for my best friend.

  She’s been in love with Blaine since our freshmen year of college at Camford.

  We’d just moved into our dorms, and both of us were nervous.

  I had no idea if I would get a weirdo for a roommate. But she strolled in with her leather duffle bag, tight jeans and cowboy boots, and I knew we’d be instant friends.

  Her calm, kind demeanor opened me up quickly. She hadn’t been in our room more than five minutes and she had me laughing. Her Texas accent was more pronounced than anyone’s I’ve ever heard before. I asked her to say funny, off the wall things, making us burst into fits of laughter.

  We’d left our door open that first night and while we were lounging, Blaine casually strolled in.

  “Hey girls, I just wanted to introduce myself.” He offered his hand to me then shifts to Holli.

  Holli’s eyes immediately went to magical dreamy land that only woman in severe like know about.

  With his dark black hair and blue eyes, I had to give it to Holli, the guy was a fox. His bright, inviting smile broke through and Holli was mush. Putty in his hands.

  “I’m the Resident Advisor here, and thought I’d come by and say hi. I’m a junior, studying photography. Either of you in the arts?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “Nope. I’m majoring in Secondary Education.”

  He nodded his head, “Cool. Want to be a teacher, huh?”

  I shot a look at Holli, who had yet to take a breath or look away. I smiled, sliding my eyes back to Blaine. “Hopefully, one day. I’ll be here a while though. I’m planning on getting my Master’s.”

  He fist bumped my hand. “Nice.” Then turned to Holli. “What about you? What are you studying?”

  And the moment he laid his eyes on her, I saw the attraction. His eyes traveled from the tip of her toes to the top of her head, not missing an inch. His mouth dropped open and I felt like I was invading on their private moment.

  Holli had yet to answer, I don’t think she realized he asked her a question.

  Ever so subtly, I slid my foot to her and kicked her in the shin. The contact knocked her brain back in place and she shook her head.

  “Uhh—yeah, I’m in the Theater program.”

  Blaine’s eyes lit up, and he moved closer to Holli. “Really?” He gestured to the space next to her on her bed, asking to sit. Holli moved over, offering the spot to him.

  Just like that, I was invisible. Holli giggled and I bolted out of the door.

  They started dating two days later and have been together ever since.

  Blaine graduated and landed his dream job at Vogue. The first few years, he primarily shot in L.A. but as he gained more recognition, he began to travel. Holli had a very difficult time with it at first, but because the sitcom she stars in is on hiatus right now, she has time to travel with Blaine.

  “You are never going to believe this, Whit.” She beams, with that ever-present dreamy stare in her eyes. “He somehow found a way to block off all of the Eiffel Tower from visitors and proposed to me standing under it. It was beyond romantic.” She clasps her hand to her trembling mouth. “It was beautiful.”

  I grab her hand and squeeze, happy tears spilling from my eyes. “I’m so happy for you, Holls.”

  She wipes at her cheeks and smiles. “Thank you so much. And I wanted to ask you, will you be my maid of honor?”

  As if she has to ask. “Of course!” I squeak and jump from my chair, bounding into her arms. “I know it’s early, but have you guys set a date?”

  She twirls the ring on her finger and shakes her head. “No. Hopefully around Christmas.”

  That gives us about ten months. I can handle that. Who knows if I’ll get a teaching job once I graduate. I could have lots of time on my hands.

  “What about the location? Texas or here?”

  She bites at her nail. “I want to get married here, but my family will shit bricks if they have to travel a whole three states over to see me get married.”

  She’s always had issues with her family. They haven’t supported her career and hardly ever visit. They’re the typical old school parents who would have rather married her off to someone and watched her push out babies for the next few years. Going off to California to become an actress was not a slap in the face to them. It was a personal attack.

  “Well then, get married here. We will figure it all out.”

  She stands, pulling money out of her purse and setting it on the table, paying our bill.

  I begin to shake my head when she flicks my hand away from grabbing the money.

  “I’m paying. Get over it,” she sternly tells me.

  I look down at my red hand and shake my head. “Alright, alright. Geeze, and thank you.”

  She winks. “You got it, MOH.”

  Taking my blonde hair out of its ponytail, I give her a side-glance. “MOH?”

  Holli huffs. “Maid of Honor. Jesus, Whitley, get with the program.”

  She opens the restaurant door for me to exit and hip bumps me on the way out.

  I snicker at her and knock my head with the pad of my hand. “Of course, how could I not know that? I’ve been married so many times.”

  “Smartass,” Holli mutters.

  It’s mid-March and the weather is still fairly nice out. A slight breeze rushes around us and the salt from the ocean wafts through the air.

  I’ve always loved living here. California is a world all its own. The culture and people are so diverse. Not to mention, the shopping is phenomenal. I could spend days walking up and down Rodeo Drive.

  It also doesn’t hurt to live a few feet from the ocean. I love being near the water. It calms me. Listening to the waves crash against the shore is enough to calm my moods most days.

  Looping her arm through mine, Holli and I head out.

  We’re not but two blocks from the restaurant when I begin to regret wearing heels today. Lark dropped me off after my class, so it didn’t dawn on me till just now that Holli and I might do some shopping after lunch.

  Shit.

  I turn to look at Holli’s feet. She’s wearing higher heels than I am. How does she walk so easily in them? They don’t seem to bothering her like mine suddenly are.

  Maybe it’s because I’m thinking about it.

  Holli’s brown hair blows in the wind, openly pronouncing her beauty. She’s my polar opposite. Where she has dark brown hair, I have light blonde. Her green eyes pop and my gray eyes glow. I’ve been told my eyes are animalistic. I have an hourglass figure and she’s stick thin. She’s always been tiny. What do I expect? She’s a freaking TV star. She works out regularly and I hardly
have time to sleep.

  I’m going to school to be a teacher, my employers couldn’t care less if I am fat or not. My size eight jeans fit fine and that’s all I care about.

  I look down at my feet, again. They might run away without me at this point. They hurt.

  “Holls, I think we need to stop and get me a pair of shoes. These ones are killing me.” I point to my pointy-toed nude heels.

  At least they’re pretty.

  Holli’s eyes shift, looking for a shop. “Crap, there’s nothing around here.”

  The restaurant was on the outskirts of town, meaning there’s not much shopping. There’s a cellphone store, and a pawnshop on the corner, and no shoes or clothing in sight.

  Holli’s phone buzzes. I look to her, and she huffs. “It’s Greg.” Her agent. “I gotta answer this.” She holds her index up, asking for a minute.

  I nod my head, pulling out my phone from my back pocket. I shift from one foot to the other, attempting to alleviate the pain from my damn shoes when I spot a bench on the opposite side of the street.

  Thank God.

  I shove my phone back in my jeans.

  “Holli,” I loudly whisper, waving my arms frantically trying to get her attention.

  She turns around with an amused smile. I’m sure I look like an idiot.

  I point to the empty, rusting bench sitting in front of a sad looking Chinese restaurant. “Sit.”

  She raises her eyebrows in acknowledgement, and turns back around, talking in hushed tones.

  I’m mere feet away from the bench when I bite the bullet and full-on sprint. My feet can’t take much more.

  I all but fall into the hard metal bench, looking like a complete nutcase.

  Remembering my iPhone is in my back pocket, I fish it out, and hit the home button. A picture of me and Lark pops up and I type in my passcode to unlock it.

  After it’s unlocked, I look at the second picture of just Lark. I’d snapped a picture at his last game, and decided to make it my wallpaper. He looks gorgeous. It was mid-game and he was running across the field. I’d been able to capture him in the middle of his stride, and the muscles in his legs are screaming, making every vein and muscle showcase themselves for the world to see. He was looking my way, giving his signature smirk. Most of the girls around me in the stands thought he was looking at them. Holli would probably tell me that he was—looking at them, too, but I want to be in denial for a little while longer.