Everything is unraveling.

But I choose to not let it dictate my life.

The somewhat sturdy foundation I had been walking on is stretching out underneath me like the solid ground has ripped apart into strings and I'm balancing on tightropes, praying I don't fall.

But I'm a mother freaking trapeze artist.

It's been two weeks since the phone call. Two weeks of looking at excel spreadsheets, trying to apply for jobs, and searching for a cheap place to live when I'm not at school.

Why?

I am being evicted.

Okay, more like kicked out.

My dad's other daughter, who he had been estranged from and whom I have only met once, has decided to come back and take everything from me. And she can too.

Because I'm adopted.

She has every right, especially since my dad had no will that I know of. Blood trumps adoption forms. Everything in that house, and the house itself, belongs to her and she's given me until after thanksgiving to get out as she so nicely put it.

I'm trying to harden myself. Let go of the home with all the memories and familiarity. Let go of sifting through documents stored in that house that may have answers I've been wanting my whole life.

But you know what?

This could be a good thing.

It can help me move on.

Let go of the past. The past that hurts me every single day and the past that's unknown to me. I'm learning in life you don't always get the answers you want and maybe that's God's way of protecting us?

Who knows?

All I can do is unclench the curled fingers of my mind that are trying to hold on to what I'm about to lose. Nothing can be done and I have to roll with the punches.

See?

Freaking trapeze artist, right here!

Forget how my emotions are a sandstorm, where I'm left every night dried and dehydrated, staring at those sleek white brick walls that are too smooth and shiny.

Screw you, grief.

Screw you!

I'm too busy trying to be an adult and dig myself out of this hole to let you rule me.

Crying will solve nothing, grieving will solve nothing. Picking up the pieces and learning how to navigate on the flimsy strings of my life is my sole focus.

I will find a job, get an affordable apartment, and finish college. Nothing is going to stop me from breaking the promise I had made to my dad. I will maintain my scholarship and I will graduate.

Then there's everything going on with Tariq. Or more like lack thereof. Ugh! That man is beyond infuriating but dealing with him is oddly helping. A pinch of distraction in the chaos surrounding me.

Are we actually boyfriend and girlfriend?

The answer would be no.

Tariq refuses to bring it up and I'm way too chicken to ask. I've been putting myself out there, showing him I want more through my actions, but that's as bold as I will get.

The rest is on him.

I had thought things might've changed after him getting thrown in the pond. The words he had said to me in front of everyone had given me hope.

That wasn't the case though.

After the night I had crawled on his lap and kissed him, he hasn't touched me since. In fact, I had tried once and he backed off.

My face heats up and it swirls around me at the memory, causing me to grunt. Ever since I have refused to wear his jacket because I am childish.

But it was so embarrassing!

It was worse than getting slammed by a football.

I breathe out a soft sigh as I enter the classroom and Ellis waves me over. He had apologized profusely after the incident at the dean's and I had no resentment toward him, probably because I no longer held a flame for him.

Heather had been right.

I had wanted someone who distracted me from the oncoming feelings for a certain gorgeous hockey player.

But, yes, Ellis and I are somewhat friends. Something I don't discuss with Tariq.

Why?

I don't really know. Maybe because I could practically hear his irritated voice, growling out how stupid I'm being, accuse me of still liking the guy. But despite what Ellis had said, he's been nice and he's dating a girl, so there's no threat.

Besides, Tariq didn't do jealous.

In one of our late-night gaming sessions, we talked about how girlfriends tried making him jealous and it never worked. He broke up with them pretty fast if they tried. It's one of his pet peeves and biggest turn-offs.

I sit down and Ellis lifts his brows. "Bad day?"

"Why do you say that?" I ask, taking out my laptop and powering it up.

"Cause that's one mean scowl you've got on." He chuckles.

I smack his arm and he laughs but then it lowers as he leans in, whispering, "Is it about getting kicked out of your house?"

I tense.

I hate that Ellis knows.

He had bumped into me outside my dorm building when I had gotten the call and I was not being very quiet about it. He was on his way to see his girlfriend. But he had been kind and didn't even say anything except for hoping I would be okay.

Weirdly enough, Ellis knows more about my home life than Tariq and Heather. All unintentional though. I had let slip that I was adopted when he had asked me why I wanted to be a teacher for an assignment way back. And of course like the blabbermouth I am, I went into a whole big spew about my dad showing me how great I'd be as a teacher, how I almost gave it up when he had passed, blah, blah, blah.

My passion for teaching makes me have a big mouth.

I glance over at him and his brilliant blue eyes lower in understanding. "I'm sorry, El. Have you told Tariq yet? I really think you should."

"No, he's stressed out enough with hockey and PT."

Ellis goes to say something but I stop him before he can. "As is Heather. She just switched her major and is knee-deep in classes that she's late in because of the transition."

He blows out a grunt. "God, woman, you're stubborn. But I stand by what I say. If Pepper was dealing with something like this, as her boyfriend, I'd like to know and Tariq cares about you a lot."

"I thought he would never go for a girl like me?" I snip.

Ellis flinches at that. "I'm really sorry, Elodie. You know I didn't mean it like that. I heard the rumors about him. The girls he had dated. You were so different and sweet. It just didn't click at first. I'm not always very articulate with my words."

Okay, I'm being a little mean. Gosh, I hate being crabby. "I'm sorry. I know but I can't tell Tariq yet. He has his first game coming up. Maybe after."

"Okay, well, can you at least listen to some good news I have for you?" I narrow my eyes at him but let him talk. "My mom knows a place that you can rent out and the price isn't bad."

I straighten. "Seriously?"

Our professor comes in and Ellis quickly says, "She's going to send you the info and hopefully you can manage the price."

"Thank you, Ellis."

He nods and the professor begins his lecture. I sit back and want to laugh. Ellis had been everything I had dreamed about in a guy. Blue eyes, a teacher with a big heart and sexy accent, a slender build with stylish clothes that showed off his impeccable taste, effortlessly handsome... and yet.

Dark eyes lined with a cocky gleam are the ones that make me breathless, body built like a machine, so big, so solid that I'm an itty bitty muffin in his hold, arrogant beyond belief, commitment-phobe, a jock, and a guy who rolls out of bed, grabs the nearest T-shirt and jeans and calls it good. A whole different kind of handsome. The kind that didn't need to try, exotic, bold, and jaw-dropping.

That's who I fell for.

The kind I never saw myself loving and wanting to be with forever. But his heart is bigger than Ellis's. His eyes devour me more with unabated desire.

Tariq is the type who would kiss his girl anywhere he'd want and nothing would get in his way, no rules, no common courtesy. Ellis would be polite, ask for permission and remain conservative and in check, especially in public. That's what I thought I had wanted.

But...

Tariq not being able to keep his hands off me, to stop his burning from scorching me, and kiss me with every ounce of passion in that library, unlocked something inside of me I never knew existed.

For someone to want me.

Unashamedly.

Unrestrainedly.

Maybe it stems from my birth mother not wanting me? It's possible, and I guess it's something I never really realized because, besides my dad, no one ever really has wanted me to the degree Tariq has shown me.

My hand keeps my chin perched up and I mentally scratch off every trait I once had assumed I wanted in a man. The things I had thought were important that now mean nothing.

Tariq is more than all those superficial things. Sometimes people forget every person has depth, even ones who appear to be the center of the world and shallow.

So, yeah, a strapping gentleman with dashing good looks, slash. Accent, slash. Piercing eyes, slash. Gentle and respectful of space, slash. Men's Wearhouse fashion sense, slash.

Big heart, check. All-consuming and unapologetic forwardness, check. Kind, check. Sweet, check. Caring, check. Will drop everything to take care of you, check. Respects you as a woman, but is an Alpha in every good way possible, check. Adorably cocky, check. A man who has struggles and demons but is doing his best to overcome it all, check.

Tariq Araneo...

Check.

Uh oh.

I'm in trouble.

Tariq glares at me with fiery black flames, shoulders tense, the muscles along his bicep flexing as he crosses his arms over his wide chest, keys dangling from his fingers.

He's sporting a T-shirt and low riding jeans today because it is one of those rare, exciting days here in good ole Wisconsin that the weather is warm before the frigid cold comes back at full force for winter.

My laughter dies and my feet halt as Ellis jerks back a little from Tariq's steely gaze. "What's this?" he asks, irritation coating his voice.

Ellis puts on a friendly smile. "Our prof finished class with a funny story about a student and we were just laughing about it," he explains, and then his eyes set on Pepper who's coming our way. "I'll see you both around."

Pepper stops, realizing the tension, and stays back. She's definitely not anything like me. A sorority girl with brown hair, gloriously straight and shiny, makeup done to perfection, and tan.

Tariq had been right.

If I had continued to like Ellis I would've had stiff competition... and lost.

I don't miss how her eyes stay on Tariq a little too long. Ellis walks up kissing her cheek, making her snap out of it and smile brightly at him.

Tearing my eyes away from the blissfully happy couple, I brave a glance at Tariq. His jaw is clenched, the muscles prominent in his neck along with that beating vein.

"So what brings you here?" I ask.

"You still like him don't you?"

I roll my eyes. "How did I know that was coming? We're classroom friends, Tariq. He apologized and got a sweet girlfriend who he's crazy about and I'm happy for him. So, no, I don't like him. I do have some dignity despite what you believe."

Isn't it painfully obvious who it is I like?

Moron.

"He hasn't tried anything on you?" Tariq's eyes are unusually hard, his demeanor rolling with coiled tension, his muscles flexing as if he's on edge.

"Of course not," I state. "As I said, he has a very nice girlfriend."

"You mean the one who was checking me out?"

"Well, can you blame her?" I snort out and then widen my eyes when I realize what I had just said.

Some of the tension dissipates as Tariq looks at me in pure shock with a dash of cocky gleam. "Can you say that again?"

"Nope."

"Do it."

"No."

"Now."

"No."

"Fine. Then say I'm sexy, Blue. Actually," he pauses and steps into me, his finger sliding along my exposed collarbone. "Whisper it in my ear right here and now."

"I'd rather say the other now."

"Too late for that."

His fingers go to my neck, my skin bristling as his short nails scratch it a little. He cups the back of my neck, forcefully bringing my body flush against his as my classmates have to maneuver around us. "Do it, Blue. Think of it as your punishment for purposely hiding this from me."

"I wasn't--"

"You were."

My heart thunders and my ears burn as my pulse beats in them. This is the closest we've been in a while and I've missed the hard edges and dips of his muscular body against my plush one.

How does he have this much control over me?

Why do I allow it?

The way his eyes darken as I stretch to my tiptoes, tells me he wasn't expecting me to actually do it, which pushes me even more. My lips brush along the beard I've come to adore so much. The tough hair scratches my mouth, leaving a trail of red lipstick in its wake and it makes me tingle, sending chills all over my body.

My lips hit right under the tragus of his ear and I wobbly sigh out, "You're sexy."

My heels go back to touching the floor and I don't dare look at him because my face is a roaring fire and possibly the same exact shade as my lipstick.

He's eerily still, his chest rising and falling in my line of sight. My eyes look up through my thick mascara lashes, those tiny black dots from the dried goo distract me for a moment.

My vision readjusts and I get a view of a flabbergasted Tariq, touching that spot on his ear where I had left a red smudge mark. His eyes are wide and his mouth has lost its playful smirk as he stares at me transfixed.

Dazedly he brings his fingers down and looks at them, my red lipstick looking pinkish on them. My embarrassment dies as I fill up with confidence.

"So, wanna tell me why you're here or just wish that my red lipstick is smeared on your mouth instead of your ear and fingers?"

His eyes snap to me, dark, yet wide in open astonishment. His mind is racing as his gaze searches frantically for a comeback, straining with what to say. I smile. Because for once, I have outwitted Tariq Araneo. All it took was a little bit of bravado...

Which immediately dies at his next words.

"Mudding," he says roughly as if his throat is clamped shut. He clears it, then his eyes flicker down to his fingers and his thumb rubs the remnants of my lipstick into his skin as if he wants it permanently there. Then his heated gaze is back on me, his voice stronger. "I'm taking you mudding."

If you all are excited to see Elodie learn what mudding is hit that star button ;)

Also, what do you all think of the new cover? Is it better or do you prefer the old one? Let me know in the comments :)

Love you all!

LivingRed