When Stars Collide (Light in the Dark #2) (35 page)

“Ready?” Rae asks.

I turn away from the mirror and smile at her. She looks gorgeous in her turquoise bridesmaid dress with her dark brown hair braided to the side. 

I nod. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

Never thought I’d be saying those words in regard to marriage
.

But technically, I’m already married, and it’s actually pretty great. 

Rae hands me my bouquet of pink peonies and loops her arm through mine. 

Out in the hall we meet Cade. His lips part when he sees me and he clears his throat, clearly overcome with emotion.

“You look beautiful,” he tells me.

“Thanks.” I smile up at my big brother. He offers me his elbow and I grab onto it.

Since my dad obviously won’t be walking me down the aisle—you know, since he’s rotting away in prison and attempted to kill us—I asked Cade.

“All right, that’s my cue.” Rae smiles and kisses my cheek and then Cade’s before running off to where she’ll exit into the Kincaid’s backyard.

We could’ve gotten re-married at any number of places, but it only made sense to do it here. The Kincaid’s might live in a different house now, but so many of our adventures took place in their backyard growing up, so it only made sense to start this adventure here.

“I’m proud of you,” Cade says, as we start walking toward the open French doors. 

“For what?” I look up at him.

He shrugs. “For never giving up on what you believe in and always fighting.”

I laugh. “Funny, you used to tell me I was too stubborn for my own good.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, well, we all grow up and see things differently.”

“That we do,” I agree.

The music changes and I hear the shuffling of everyone standing and my heart skips a beat.

This is happening.

This is really happening. 

Cade leads me out the door and my breath catches. It’s the first time I’m seeing the backyard. I handed over the reins on decorating to our moms—all I cared about was my dress—and they did a beautiful job.

The aisle is covered in white petals and above us is a canopy with more flowers hanging down and little lights twinkling. It looks like a magical fairy wonderland. 

At the end of the aisle is a whole wall of flowers in all shades of pale pink and white and in front of them stands Xander with Prue by his side. 

He stands with his hands clasped in front of him and he looks like a model in his fitted navy suit and tie. His eyes rake over my body and then stop when they meet mine. I see tears shimmer in his eyes, and he smiles widely as we stop in front of him. Xander takes my hand. Cade kisses my cheek, claps Xander on the shoulder, and then stands to the side of him. Rae is to the side of me and I hand her my bouquet so I can give Xander both my hands. 

I don’t know why I feel nervous, but I’m suddenly sweating bullets. 

We repeat our vows one after the other and I manage not to stumble over my own name, so
score
.

Then I hear the words, “You may kiss your bride.”

Xander mutters, “It’s about damn time.”

I laugh as he takes my face between his large hands and kisses me. His hands descend to my back and he dips me down, deepening the kiss, as our family and friends whistle and catcall.

I smile against his lips as he pulls away. “We did it for real.”

“It was always real,” he says with a smile, touching his fingers tenderly to my cheek. He pulls me against him so my body is flush with his despite my poofy dress. He lowers his head, pressing his forehead to mine. “Ready?” he asks.

“Ready,” I concur.

Life can throw whatever it wants at us, but we’ll be ready, and we’ll handle it together, because we’re more than husband and wife, we’re best friends, and that’s everything.   

Coming Soon in the series

Dark Hearts—
Jace and Nova’s book

Upcoming Release

A Love Like Ours
—Coming Fall 2016

Ollie and Talia have always lived by two rules. 

1. Live life to the fullest 

2. Love each other with everything they have. 

When the unthinkable happens Talia is left heartbroken and Ollie doesn't know how to fix it. Suddenly this fun-loving couple finds themselves struggling to find the good in life that used to come so readily to the both of them. 

A gift from a friend presents them with the chance to travel the world. Something they were both once eager to do. 

Hopping on a plane.

Unknown destinations.

Anything can happen…but can they find their way back to themselves?  

Keep reading for an excerpt from Lucia Franco’s
Balance
.
Now available.
 

Wow, I honestly can’t believe I’m writing acknowledgements for
When Stars Collide
. There was a time when I thought I would never write this book, but you guys, my readers, never gave up hope that Xander and Thea would get their story. This book completely took over my life and I fell completely in love with these two. This story has quickly become one of my favorites and I hope you love it as much as I do. 

Wendi. Editor. Formatter. Swirl lover. And ninja. I love you to pieces and I don’t know what I’d do without you. I’m also sorry you’ve had to hear me say, “I love them!” five hundred thousand times. I hope you’re prepared to hear me do it again, because I don’t think I’m done.

Regina Bartley, no book would ever be complete without you. You encourage me every step of the way and you’re always there when I need to talk something out. I don’t know what I’d do without you. (Probably throw my laptop, haha) 

My fammmmily. You guys deserve all the hugs in the world for dealing with me. Mom, I’m sorry for all those texts I didn’t answer until a week later. But seriously, you all have been so supportive and that means everything.

Regina Wamba, you deserve a gold medal for dealing with me on this cover. I know I didn’t make it easy for you but this has turned out to be one of my favorites and I can’t stop looking at it. It’s so perfect for Xander and Thea.

Anthony and Hannah, thank you so much for bringing these characters to life. You guys went above and beyond and I couldn’t be happier. Let’s do it again. ;)

My beta readers! (You know who you are) Thank you for helping to shape this book into what is. I value your opinions so much, and it means so much that you love my characters as much as I do.

And of course, I have to end this by thanking YOU. Without you, my readers, I couldn’t live my dream. I can’t imagine myself doing anything but writing, and thanks to you I can do that, and that will
never
stop blowing my mind. 

Chapter 1

"Absolutely not!" My father's harsh voice boomed around his home office.

"You haven't even heard what I have to say," I argued my point, not settling for anything less than his full attention.

"I don't care what you have to say. You can talk until you're blue in the face. You are not moving to New Hampshire. End of discussion."

"Dad, just listen. Gymnastics¬¬—"

"I've made my decision and it's not changing." He picked up his pen and focused on the papers in front of him. "Now, please, I have work to do."

Devastation sucker punched me in the gut. I was surprised by how unreasonable he was being in not letting me speak. The East Coast was home to one of the best gymnastics facilities in the country and I'd prove it to him. My weeks of research wouldn't be wasted. I would not give up, I just had to try harder.

"It's renowned for its coaching and athletes," I pressed on.

"No." He gave me his infamous look, the one capable of making a grown man flinch.

My future was at stake and I had to fight for it. As much as I would miss my current gym, it was no longer useful to me. There were only so many extra hours of conditioning and private classes I could take. Advancement in this sport required the proper training, and I couldn't get it at Palm Beach Gymnastics.

"Transferring to another gym isn't unheard of. A lot of families send their gymnasts to train at better facilities." I stood my ground.

"Adrianna Francesca Rossi!" His tone and anger bled into my frustration, but it didn't stop me.

"Just hear me out! Please," I pleaded, on the verge of tears. My mother would no doubt sniff them in the air and be on me like a blood hound within seconds. Tears showed weakness, and a Rossi was never weak—at least according to her.

Dad didn't respond. Instead, he stared right through me.

Blowing out a loud, aggravated breath, I stood up and peered through the large window in his office, which overlooked the expansive, lush lawn in our back yard. Over to the right, the late afternoon sun reflected off the pool. Our home was located on the prestigious Palm Beach Island. We had everything money could buy. Everything except a great one-of-a-kind gymnastics coach that could help push me closer to achieving my dream.

Turning back to my dad, I took in the flare of his nostrils and stiff jaw. He had become eerily still. The room grew cold and goose bumps broke out on my skin. I knew this side of him, and it wasn't pretty. This was a side nobody dared to test. 

I had pushed too far.

"Go," he said. "Now." His voice quiet and calm before dismissing me to return to his work.

I fled his office and retreated to my bedroom, slamming the door just as the tears started to fall.

Gymnastics was everything to me—it was my heart and soul, the air I breathed. It was the one thing that allowed me to be me. To express myself creatively in the way I chose, not how someone else decided for me. I'd rotated between eating, sleeping, and flipping for as long as I could remember. The competiveness, the challenge of mastering a new skill. The way I defied gravity—my heart soaring, the sound of applause, the gasp from the audience—made the sacrifice worth every bit of pain and manipulation my body went through. Nothing could take that feeling away.

It was the one place I could be free from the restraints my family's name had on me. 

My name is Adrianna Rossi. I'm fifteen, and a competitive gymnast. Elite gymnast, to be exact. Or I would be, as soon as I had the right coach.

I had competed in all ten levels required to qualify for the title of elite in different meets around the country last year and won numerous awards. It was only a matter of time before I'd hold the coveted rank. I trained day in and day out for this. My days consisted of four-hour training sessions in the gym, a tutor to homeschool me, and a private chef to prepare my calculated caloric meals. 

As I fell onto my bed, devastation hit me hard. The rejection crushed my heart and it felt like my dreams were slowly being ripped away. 

Like most hungry gymnasts, my ultimate goal was the Olympics. 

If I graphed the training along with my age, I could possibly compete in my first Olympic Games by twenty.
Possibly
, being the key word. While twenty was still considered youthful by normal standards, it was ancient in the gymnastics world. Though, it wasn't unheard of to compete in The Games at that age. One of my favorites, Svetlana Khorkina, competed until she was twenty-five years old and in three Olympics, the first being when she was seventeen. Oksana Chusovitina, competed in six Olympic Games, also starting at seventeen. So my goal wasn't completely farfetched, I just needed the proper training. I was good, but I wanted to be great. And the only way to be great was to train with the best.

Though I was young, I wasn't naive. I knew what kind of mental and physical abuse my body would go through in order to reach the professional level. I needed a drill sergeant with a sharp eye.

Needed it, and wanted it.

I didn't fully understand why my dad objected to me leaving. I knew he thought of gymnastics as a hobby, but he'd always done anything to placate me. He never told me no and usually threw money at whatever my heart desired. It wasn't as if he spent much time at home anyway. Frank Rossi was too occupied with expanding and maintaining his real estate empire. Rossi Enterprises was one of the top developers, with properties worldwide. He left my mom in charge of raising my brother and me, which was a joke.

When I first began gymnastics at three years old, my mother used to sit at my practices and attend my meets. It was all about appearances back then, but I was young so she really didn't have much of a choice. However, the older I got, the less of an effort she made. I think the last meet she came to I was twelve years old. Mom was usually too busy with her charity work or trying to keep my older brother, Xavier, out of the media. 

At first their lack of interest bothered me. I wanted them to want to be there, to watch me tumble and flip and balance on the beam. To see me move up to another level or stick a dismount without wobbling. I craved my parents' attention like all children do, but after years of begging, I eventually gave up and learned to adapt to their indifference. Nowadays, Mom rarely came to practice, and neither of my parents attended many competitions. Except the ones worth being seen at. 

Their actions forced me to be independent, something I quickly learned to value. That being said, I refused to give up. I wouldn't let anything, or anyone, take my goal away from me.