Unwanted (The Unlucky Ones, #1)

by Marley Valentine

Love didn’t conquer all. If anybody knew that, it was Arlo and me, and especially not this time.

Even bruised and bleeding, I catch him when he falls.

But the hopes and dreams of five rejected kids, who met one another in a group home because nobody else wanted them, had been tainted by the constant disappointment of real life.

I may have learned to rise above rock bottom, but I was yet to rise above and forgive Frankie York. What was worse is, I was certain I hadn’t yet learned how to unlove him either.

heart-rending,

He just continues to stare at me, his hazel-colored eyes full of longing. Full of yearning. Full of desire. For me. It hits me harder and cuts me deeper than any indifference and disappointment ever could. Because he’s looking at me the way he always has. Like time hasn’t passed. Like nothing has changed. Like he needs me. Like he loves me.

Has me crying 43 pages in jeeeeez

but he’s still familiar. He’s still safe. He’s still my home.

Searching for a reason to stay, or maybe a reason to go.

My attraction to him has always been so complex. His heart, his mind, his soul.

Glancing our way, he smiles. A little sad. A little soft. I should leave. But damn him, I want to stay.

Now, with every part of me touching him, I was certain it didn’t matter who it was or what gender they identified as, I would never be able to see anyone but him.

For most of us, you get sober because it’s the only thing standing between you and death’s door. And a lot of the time, death’s door is much more inviting.

He’s the same but different. Enough the same that I know I still have feelings for him, but different enough that I am nothing but intrigued by all the things I could potentially feel for him. When he arrives with the multiple

It was stupid and juvenile, but it was familiar. And it was us.

We weren’t just rough around the edges back then. We knew how to be rough, and being lovers didn’t change that.

“You smell the same,” he whispers. “I didn’t expect you to smell the same.”

He stops when he reaches my ear and whispers, “Leaving you broke my heart.”

Glancing down at his mouth, I waste no time claiming what has always been mine.

I was wound tight, and I wanted Frankie to be the one to loosen me up. “Hi, my name is Mara

“It didn’t matter if I took everything or nothing with me to Seattle. No place has ever or will ever feel like home without you.”

Whether it’s four years or four days in between kisses, it’s always too long. It’ll never feel like enough.

“My point is,” I continue. “You’ve done that for every one of us. Time and time again you’ve broken your own heart to try and heal our heartache. It’s incredibly hard not to fall in love with someone who would sacrifice his whole world to save someone else’s.”

“I love your broken.” He rubs his thumb over my lips and kisses me gently. “I love your wronged.” He kisses me again, this time a little firmer. “And I love your selfish.”

“I love you, Arlo. Every part of you. The things you love about yourself and especially the things you hate. I love them all.”

“You taught me how to love,” he exclaims. “Before you, I didn’t know what it was like to be loved, let alone to love someone in return. I love you, Frankie York. I always have and I always will.”

Needed them to get through the day. “Therapy tells me I used drugs to avoid feeling. To avoid the abandonment. The neglect, the disappointment, the constant feeling of never being enough. So, I used the drugs to feel better about myself, which in turn led me to constantly letting someone else down. “And the next thing you know, you’re so exhausted by the cycle you’ve created for yourself, that for a single moment, a world where you don’t exist kind of has a nice ring to it.”