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About Tomorrow...

Abbi Glines

  Copyright © 2020 by Abbi Glines

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing, 2020

  Abbi Glines Publishing

  P.O. Box 3130

  Peterborough, NH 03458

  Editing by Fairest Reviews Editing Services

  Cover designed by Damonza

  Interior Design by The Illustrated Author Design Services

  table of contents

  title page



  may 25, 2010




































  about abbi

  To everyone who needs hope for tomorrow…


  This was the first book in YEARS that I wrote in less than a month. That used to be my “thing” I could write ‘em fast. Being able to do that again was amazing. I had time to get lost in my characters and for that I must thank my family first.

  Britt went above and beyond with taking up the slack so I could lock myself away. He not only did his work but most of mine too. He is a super hero. He will also hate that I said all this. Hopefully he doesn’t read it.

  Ava and Emerson had to hear “Mom is working. I can’t right now.” For the most part they didn’t complain. Emerson had her moments. Ava was a trooper though…although she’s been on this ride since 2011 and knows the score.

  My older children who live in other states were great about me not being able to answer their calls most of the time and they had to wait until I could get back to them. They still love me and understand this part of mom’s world.

  Danielle Lagasse for being there, for being a writing buddy and friend in my new life here in New England. She’s made moving easy. Her family has become part of ours.

  My editor Becky Barney at Fairest Reviews Proofreading Services. She once again made my story shine. I’m thankful I found her.

  My formatter who also did my book trailer- Melissa Stevens at The Illustrated Author. Her works is always amazing.

  The Next Step PR who deals with all the shit I toss their way and manages to make me appear organized. Kiki Chatfield was the first person to read this book and I love her for it! They are a great team to work with and I’m thankful they helped me pull off yet another release.

  Damonza for my book cover. It is perfect and I love it.

  Abbi’s Army ALWAYS. Y’all are what keeps me sane when I release a new book. Thanks for always supporting me.

  My readers- without you there would be no one to read my stories. I get to write because y’all read. I love you all!

  May 25, 2010

  Portsmouth, New Hampshire

  “Did you ask him?” Cora whispered beside me.

  “No, but why me? Why can’t you?” I asked. Creed was her brother and it was her idea to walk to town for ice cream. I felt weird asking him. He was busy.

  Cora rolled her eyes at me. “Because he won’t say no to you,” she replied.

  Frowning I glanced back at her brother, Creed Sullivan, and Jack Tate who had moved five houses down the street from the Sullivans this past fall. Jack was Creed’s new best friend. Last summer and all the summers before, Creed had always spent his days with me and Cora. This year things were different. Sure, he did some things with us, but he was with Jack more and more. They were currently playing basketball on the Sullivans’ driveway. I didn’t want to just go up and interrupt them. Things with Creed felt different now and our friendship wasn’t the same.

  “When they’re done playing maybe they’ll want to go,” I suggested to Cora.

  Cora sighed dramatically. “If you ask, Creed will want to go now. If my mother wasn’t being ridiculous, we would just go by ourselves, but she thinks Creed going keeps us safe. Like, seriously, what is he gonna do to protect us?”

  Creed was dribbling the ball when he noticed us watching them. He paused and studied me a moment. I hated feeling like this with Creed. Why had things had to change? It had been so much easier before. This year things were too different. When I looked at Creed, my stomach did funny things and my cheeks felt warm. I liked him and not just as a friend. I really liked Creed Sullivan. In the past, I had always thought he was cute, but this year when he had smiled at me the first day I’d arrived at my Gran’s, I felt a little faint.

  “Hey, Creed!” Cora called out to him, realizing he was looking this way.

  He shifted his gaze to his sister. “Yeah?”

  “Sailor wants to go get an ice cream in town, but mom says you have to go with us.” Cora told him, which was not true. I wanted to crawl in the bushes and hide from embarrassment.

  Creed looked back to me and I knew my face was bright red. I could feel it. “You want ice cream?” he asked me.

  I was about to tell him it could wait until he was done or that I didn’t actually need an ice cream when Cora jabbed me so hard with her elbow, I was sure it was going to leave a bruise. Wincing, I managed to nod my head.

  “We’re in the middle of a game,” Jack said, stating the obvious.

  Creed shot him a look I couldn’t see, then he turned back to me. “Okay, let’s go,” he said.

  “You’re kidding? Jeez, dude, I know she’s hot but bros over…”

  “Don’t finish that sentence,” Creed warned him.

  “Told you,” Cora said under her breath in a sing-song voice. “My brother likes you, likes you.”

  “No he doesn’t. Stop that,” I whispered, hoping to God he didn’t hear her.

  “Even Jack’s noticed,” she added then winked at me.

  Jack had said I was hot. Did Creed think I was too? The butterflies in my stomach started up again and I felt so awkward. I missed the days when being around Creed didn’t make me a ball of nerves.

  Creed threw the ball at Jack, who caught it and made a umph noise.

  “Can I come?” Jack asked.

  “No,” Creed said, but he was looking at me. “Ready?” he then asked me.

  I nodded then remembered I needed to go get money from Gran. “Can I go by Gran’s and get money first? Y’all can keep playing.”

  “Y’all,” Jack repeated, laughing at me. He made fun of my accent a lot.

  “Shut up,” Creed said, glaring at his friend.

  Jack rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Call me when you’re done with her.”

  Creed walked toward Cora and me. “I have money. You don’t need any,” he told me.

  “Oh really, you can pay for mine too,” Cora told him in a sweet voice.

  “You have yo
ur own money,” he said.

  Cora nudged me again and said, “tell him to buy my ice cream too.”

  I wished she would stop saying things like this around Creed. He may be her twin brother, but he wasn’t mine. I didn’t want to make him irritated with me. “I can go to Gran’s and get money for both of us,” I told her, while begging her with my eyes to stop embarrassing me.

  “That’s okay. I’ll pay for hers too,” Creed said.

  Last year I would have laughed about this and we would have all but run to town for ice cream. How did one year change us so much?

  “Wicked cool! Let’s go get ice cream.” Cora beamed brightly, having gotten her way, and headed down the sidewalk without waiting for us to follow.

  A corner of Creed’s mouth lifted in a crooked grin. “She’s a brat. You know that. Come on,” he said.

  I relaxed a little then. This was Creed. We had built forts together, baited fishing hooks together, had sleep overs in backyard tents. He wasn’t a stranger. He was just beautiful now. Maybe he always had been. I was just realizing it this year. That was the difference.

  We fell into step following Cora. This summer I had spent more time alone with her than I ever had. We weren’t a trio anymore. Creed had Jack and I missed him. Moments like this, when he did something with us, made the world feel right again. The Sullivan twins were the best part of my year, and I only got to be with them in the summers.

  Creed’s hand touched mine and my breathing hitched. Had that been an accident? We were walking close and maybe his hand had accidentally brushed mine. Before I could think too hard about it, his hand slipped over mine and his fingers threaded with my own.

  We were holding hands. My heart was going haywire and the smile stretching across my face was impossible to control. I wanted to look at him but I was afraid to. Creed Sullivan was holding my hand.

  He squeezed it then and I turned my head and had to tilt it back a little to look at him. Another difference this year was he was now four inches taller than me. He had gotten beautiful and tall. He met my gaze and grinned at me.

  “What? Don’t look so surprised,” he said.

  I raised my eyebrows but said nothing. He was holding my hand. Of course, I was surprised.

  He shifted his eyes to his sister, who thankfully hadn’t looked back to see us holding hands. “She may be a brat, but she’s right. I’d do whatever you asked me to do.”


  October 24, 2019

  Boston, Massachusetts

  I’d always heard that nothing compared to New England in the fall. This was my first experience at seeing it first-hand. My life in New England had been in the summers- when the private school I attended was closed and my mother ran off to Europe. Summers were the best part of my year. I didn’t harbor any bitterness that my mother had no time for me in the summer. She’d given me my summers with Gran.

  “It’s stunning, isn’t it?” Griff asked.

  I simply nodded. I wasn’t sure words could describe it. Leaves of every color it seemed covered the cobbled streets. Looking from the beauty around us, I inhaled the brisk fall air. Griff chuckled and I glanced up at him. He was equally stunning. From the first moment I’d met him, I’d been struck by how handsome he was. He was almost six-feet-tall and had a lean build from running. Griff ran in marathons, but I couldn’t run down the driveway without having to stop and catch my breath. His dark hair was always styled perfectly. My hair was unruly with curls I struggled to contain, and I envied his smooth dark locks. Hazel eyes that could only be described as dreamy looked down at me. Griff Stafford hadn’t been my first love, but he’d been my savior, even if he didn’t realize it. I adored him.

  “Come on, I can’t wait until you see this place.” Griff grabbed my hand and led me to the front door of the apartment building. Griff had left Nashville two months ago to get settled in before his classes started. I’d had packing and other things to set into place. Now that we had both graduated from Vanderbilt University, our lives were different, busier. Having time for us was a luxury we didn’t get anymore.

  Griff had four years of medical school ahead of him. I had my Gran’s house. My bachelor’s degree in Art History would hopefully help me find a job at an art museum. Moving to my Gran’s house in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, had never been something I considered until recently. I had done some research on art museums close to Portsmouth and I was even willing to drive to Boston for a job, if I could find one. Working in Boston meant Griff and I could have lunch together. It would be perfect and worth the commute.

  While I’d been in Nashville packing up my life and trying to stay clear of my mother, Griff had been in Boston. He was happy here and I knew moving to Gran’s house was the best decision for our relationship. I didn’t see how we’d see each other much if I’d stayed in Nashville. Not that I wanted to stay there. It was just the memories connected to my time at Gran’s were complicated and I didn’t know if going back, six years later, would feel like it was just yesterday or if it had been enough time to heal.

  The building had been here a long time, but it was well-kept. There were only ten apartments, and the structure had been refurbished from a boarding house built in 1875. Griff flashed me a grin over his shoulder. “Luckily we’re on the third floor and not the fifth.”

  At each landing, there were three doors. Griff had told me on the phone that there was only one bathroom on each floor. I wasn’t sure I’d like that very much. The pro was that the majority of the other residents in the building were students at Ashurst Medical Center, like Griff and his roommate. They were unlikely to have any loud parties in the building to disturb their studies. I still wouldn’t want to share a bathroom with them though.

  Griff opened the door to his apartment and motioned for me to go inside. I loved it instantly. The apartment had the charm of early last century. Even with furnishings chosen by Griff and his roommate, the place had a warm character to it. Much like my Gran’s house did in Portsmouth. The difference here was the “city posh” feel to the location.

  “This is the main living area. My room is this way,” Griff said grinning. He knew I loved it here without asking what I thought. I followed him across the room to the first door on the left. “Chet’s room is over there. His cousin is coming today to stay for a week or so off and on. They’re going to share the room, which should work out fine since he has a bigger room. Mine is the smaller one, but my rent is a hundred less a month than his.”

  His door opened and the simplicity of it was perfect. There was a full-size bed in the far-right corner up against the wall. His large overstuffed and faded blue chair sat in the other corner. It had been his grandfather’s chair and he was attached to it. The chair had been the only furniture he moved here. The rest he’d bought when he arrived. This was my first time seeing it; although I’d asked him to send pictures, he never got around to it.

  One single floor lamp stood beside his chair. A black three-drawer dresser sat against the left wall with a black framed mirror hung above it. Beside that were book shelves full of his textbooks and other medical journals. All he needed was an area rug and I made a note to buy him one. The floors would be cold soon.

  “This is amazing,” I said, tilting my head to look up at him. He smiled then bent his head to kiss me. He was happy here and I was relieved. I felt as if he’d chosen Boston because of the proximity to my Gran’s house. I hadn’t been sure what to do with her house, but the idea of selling it had been too painful for me to consider. When he had chosen Boston for med school, I’d made my decision easily enough.

  Now, I got to live in it and start my life in New England. Far enough away from my mother and her insanity to find some peace. No one knew me here; I wasn’t known as the famous country singer, Denver Copeland’s, daughter like I was in Nashville. I could just be me.

  The door to the apartment opened and a male voice began talking
. I hadn’t met Chet yet and knew little about him. Griff had been so busy since moving here, our talking had been limited.

  “Room’s to the right. Your bed is the one on the left,” I heard him say. He wasn’t alone.

  “You get to meet both my roommates,” Griff said, looking pleased.

  Then he spoke…The other one…the new temporary roommate. Time slowed and I stood there unable to move. Breathing seemed difficult. My heart was the only thing moving quickly…too quickly. Butterflies erupted in my stomach and although I knew it wasn’t true. It wasn’t him. The voice…it was so similar. Deeper now but the tone, the accent, it was the same. I was going to hyperventilate if I didn’t focus on getting myself under control. It was just a voice. Nothing more. Emotions churned in my chest, overwhelming me, and I still couldn’t move.

  Griff’s hand found mine and I heard him say, “Come on,” as if my world hadn’t just been tossed into a churning sea of memories, both good and bad. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes briefly. It had been six summers since I’d seen him. Six years since our lives changed without notice. Why did Creed Sullivan still affect me so much? It wasn’t fair that the sound of a voice could do this to me.

  I needed to see the stranger’s face and I knew my emotions would stop going crazy. I just needed reassurance that it wasn’t Creed. Once all I’d wanted was to see Creed Sullivan again. I had wanted to ask him why, have him hold me, promise me he still loved me but that Sailor was no longer. The one thing I had overcome was loving Creed.

  That reassurance I had hoped for never came because the stranger wasn’t a stranger.

  When my eyes found his face, it felt as if time stopped. All the memories were back and the last moment I had been held by him slapped me in the face. Years of counseling seemed pointless. I was going to fall apart. Jerking my gaze from him, needing to find composure and quickly before Griff noticed, I looked at the other man in the room. The one I didn’t recognize. The face that wasn’t in my dreams and nightmares. The face that didn’t haunt me.

  “Hey! I didn’t know you were here and this must be Sailor,” a guy with a headful of blonde curls and bright green eyes said as he stepped forward and held out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Sailor. I’m Chet. I’ve heard a lot about you, and Griff wasn’t exaggerating. You’re as lovely as he said you were.”