Love is crazy, p.1
Love is Crazy, page 1
CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chaper Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twleve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Epilogue
Sneak Peek
Read More By Jami Rogers
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Brixon, you changed my life and I love you with all my heart.
Love is Crazy
Copyright © 2022 by Jami Rogers.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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LOVE IS CRAZY
KISS ME CRAZY BOOK 2
JAMI ROGERS
CHAPTER ONE
Kass
Am I bad a person?
Am I ugly?
Did I say something wrong?
Did I do something offensive?
“There’s only one week until winter break, so I’m ending class early.” My professor says, gathering his things and stuffing them into his briefcase. “I suggest you all put in a few extra hours to ace those finals. Go study.”
The students around me shuffle their things together and exit the classroom.
I’ve been waiting for this moment for months. The last day of class. Next week is solely for finals, and once I’m finished with those, I plan to exit out the doors and keep on walking. No looking back. No more papers. No more teachers. No more students. Ever. Well, not in Wyoming at least. I’ll be finishing my final semester online after I move back to New York in a few weeks.
A cold breeze hits me just as I step outside. Normally, I’d yelp and zip my coat up to my chin, but not today. Or any day this last month. I just feel … numb.
What’s wrong with me?
I’ve asked myself this question over and over and over.
I have no answer. Unless you count “nothing” as an answer.
To society, when a man cheats on a woman, the woman is supposed to be strong and know that it wasn’t her, but in real life that’s a lot easier said than done.
I take the long way back to my apartment, walking without a goal and admiring the Christmas decorations placed throughout campus as I soak up a few final memories of college life in Wyoming. A lot of students have already left for the day, so I don’t run into many. It’s nice to have the silence. It gives this place a new vibe. One I never saw when it was bustling with eager students who were always in a rush to get somewhere. Plus, I get to enjoy the feel of the holidays for a moment. Almost everything I own is in boxes, so I won’t be decorating this year.
I was one of them—one of those students in a rush everywhere. Maybe that was it. Was I too caught up in the college experience?
I clench my backpack straps tighter and keep walking. It’s supposed to snow tonight, and if my weather app is correct, it’s going to keep doing it every other day for the next three weeks. Winter in Wyoming. I wouldn’t expect it any other way.
Although I feel numb, my nose starts to run from the bitterness and wind. This is the only reason I wish I hadn’t moved out of the dorms so quickly last month. Moving mid-semester was rough but necessary. I needed a place that was all mine. Where I could be alone and not chance running into people.
One could say I’m looking for something, anything that would let me avoid people. Specific people. I’m okay with that. As long as I don’t see or hear of them, I’ll be fine. But I really don’t like this new side of me. I miss the me who was fun and outgoing. The one who went after what she wanted and didn’t let her love for her boyfriend sway her choices.
That’s why I'm moving back to New York. Wyoming is great and all, and I can see why people like it, but it wasn’t until Mark and I broke up that I realized this place is not for me. I was only here for Mark. What I want is to be back on the East Coast.
When I told my parents I was moving back, my father didn’t hesitate to offer me a spot in the marketing department—my current curriculum major— with Richmond Enterprises, the family company. Our family dabbles in everything from real estate and hotel chains to bakeries and coffee shops. There isn’t any type of business my father doesn’t want to be a part of.
Even with a semester left for my associate’s and probably another four after that for my bachelor’s, he was happy to add me to the team, and I took it without thinking twice. It’s not a seniority position, obviously—as my father said, I need to finish school—but it’s better than nothing. Honestly, I think he was so thrilled to hear I was moving back that he’d have offered me the janitorial position just to have me working with him.
Of course, I don’t plan to work for my father forever. My brother is on track to take over when Dad retires, but the learning experience will be fantastic. And as someone who wants to own her own marketing company, one she built on her own, I’m all for learning as much as I can.
The fact that moving back means I won’t chance running into my ex is a bonus. I will miss my other friends, though. That part sucks. If things were different, I’d suggest we all take one last group vacation before I leave, but instead, it’s just me going off to Mexico for my brother's destination wedding.
I turn the corner that officially takes me off the campus and leisurely stroll the two blocks to my apartment. My cell rings. I pull it from my crossbody Kate Spade to see Lennox’s name—she’s my best friend—on the screen.
I pause. That’s odd. Why would she be calling me right now? She’s in Key West with her boyfriend, Tripp. They finished their finals earlier this week and left the next day. Tripp surprised her with the short vacation, and I’m happy for her.
“Hello?”
“Kass! Oh. My. Gosh! This place is beautiful.” She whoops and hollers in the background. “I can’t wait for you to finish your finals.”
“See if you can take them early,” Tripp says in the background. “Then get your butt on a plane and relax.”
“Oh, you two are cute. And I can’t wait. I just wish I were going to Florida to see you guys and not to Mexico for my brother’s wedding.”
I’m happy for my brother, but still fresh off the whole being cheated on thing and going to a wedding where I’ll be surrounded by gobs of people who are just thrilled and happy for the sweet couple sounds like torture.
“Us too!”
“Okay, well you two go back to having fun and don’t forget to share pictures or post them on insta so I can keep up.”
“We will. Miss you. Love you. See you soon.”
I’ll miss the few friends I’ve made, but mostly I’ll miss Lennox, Tripp, and Winston. They’re like family to me, and if things were different, I’d consider staying. Which is crazy because who just packs up from Manhattan and moves to Wyoming, of all places, to go to school? I hate to say that I’m that girl. The one who did it just to follow her boyfriend because he thought this whole new trend of celebrities moving to Wyoming was cool. I never told him how much I hated the idea. I also never told him how much I still didn’t love this place after we’d been here only a few months. It’s not horrible. It’s just not … me.
Maybe I didn’t communicate enough.
My apartment building comes into view, and I sigh. If I’ll miss anything about living here, it’s that I can be anywhere in under ten minutes. Living alone isn’t as bad as I first thought it would be. I’m not upset that my toilet seat is always down or that my bathroom sink is always clean and free of toothpaste. I don’t have to make a deal on who gets to watch which show in bed before we fall asleep. The couch cushions are always in their designated spot. Call me crazy, but there are couch cushions for décor and then there are the ones you can actually use to lean on or nap. I call little things like that my inner Monica.
Living alone makes it easier to ma—
“Kass, hey. Wait up.”
I freeze just outside my building. It’s Mark, my ex, behind me. My heart beats faster, and my hands grow sweaty on cue.
He steps in front of me and smiles.
Screw that smile!
“What do you want, Mark?”
“I just came to get the last of my things, but you weren’t here, so I waited.”
“You should have called. I would have given them to Winston to give to you.” I step around him.
When I moved, there was so much of Mark’s stuff left in
“I get it. Is it still cool if I grab my things?”
I let out an exaggerated sigh.
“As long as that’s all you’re doing.”
Every time he comes by for more of his “things,” he wants to sit and talk. I don’t. I’m done talking. He cheated. End of story. I understand that we are human, and we make mistakes, but to make that mistake and get another woman pregnant? No. You don’t get a second chance from that. Not from me anyway.
“Well, I was hoping we could talk.”
“No,” I stop him right from the start. “You get your stuff, and you leave.”
“I miss you, Kass,” he says as we start up the stairs to the second floor. “We are—"
“You sure as shit didn’t miss me a few months ago.”
“Kass, are we ever going to talk about this? Like really talk about it?”
“No, we aren’t. It’s pretty clear what happened. And there is no we anymore.”
I unlock the door, opening it for him to get his things. He just stands there staring at me.
“Go. The box is on the kitchen table.”
He shakes his head in defeat and heads toward the kitchen.
He quickly comes back out with a few coats draped over his arm and a box on his hip.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you around,” he says.
I only nod and then slam the door behind him.
I could be more kind, but he lost that side of me with the choices he made.
I drop my purse and backpack onto the kitchen table. I need a hot shower, a grilled cheese, and my laptop with reruns of Younger while I curl up on the couch.
I spot Mark’s phone on the corner of the table.
Damn it, Mark. You do this every single time. Leave something behind so you have to come back.
I can’t believe it. Now that his stuff is gone, he leaves this.
Wow. Real smooth. The nerve he has.
I grab it and march toward the door; the phone starts to vibrate in my hand.
A text from her name appears. My stomach drops.
* * *
Sydney: Are you still picking me up? Today is the first ultrasound.
* * *
I quickly toss his phone into the hallway before he can retreat up the stairs to grab it. Then I lock the door, run to my room, and curl up on my bed, ignoring the persistent knock at my door.
I don’t even try to stop the tears.
How long will it take for me to stop being sad?
* * *
Winston
There’s a giant cookie on my desk with a little frosting stick figure of a man sitting at a desk pulling out his hair and the words “Congratulations, you workaholic” scrolled on top.
“Okay, who put this in my office?” I almost shout.
I step out of my office doorway and hold up the giant plastic wrapped cookie.
“Hmm, I have zero idea on who could have done that.” Whitney, the assistant my father gave me as soon as I showed up two weeks ago—since I’m still in school, he thought this was best to help me stay focused—turns down the Bluetooth currently streaming classic Christmas music and smiles up at me from her desk. She swivels her hair back and forth, her pen in her mouth, and a smile on her lips. “I definitely don’t know anything about seeing your dad arrive with it today or about watching him set it on your desk.”
“I didn’t see that either,” Owen, my father’s new assistant since he passed Whitney on to me, grins.
We have a small office space. It’s on the third floor of a business building in downtown Wind Valley, Wyoming. My father owns Montgomery Pharmaceuticals, and although his distribution centers are located around the country, so he can work from anywhere, Wyoming is where he chose. Or, more so, my mother chose. She grew up here and met my father on a long weekend trip to New York when she was twenty-five. Supposedly, my father tried to steal her cab. They ended up sharing and well, yeah, she moved there a month later. Whirlwind romance, but they are madly in love, so it works. Anyway, we now live in Wyoming, and he conducts all business from his small office here. He leaves only for important meetings.
So, yeah, the limited office space means any conversation I have with Whitney is just asking to include Owen.
I shake my head. “Is he still here?”
Whitney points to his office. “The door is shut, but he hasn’t left since I sat down this morning.”
I nod and knock on his door.
“Come in.”
I open the door enough to poke my head in. “Is now a good time?”
He sighs heavily, but nods. As I step into his office and close the door, he leans back in his chair and folds his arms behind his head as he relaxes against the headrest.
His office is simple, just like mine. We have one wall of shelves, a simple modern desk with a glass top, and two chairs across from our desks for any visitors. We don’t get many here in Wyoming. The only difference is that my dad’s walls are filled with family pictures while mine has some abstract piece of art I’m sure we paid some ridiculous amount of money for, but to me it just looks like someone tossed paint at a canvas and called it a masterpiece. I do have two pictures on my desk in a black double frame. One is of me, my parents, my brother, and my sister. The other is of me and my friends: Mark, Kass, Tripp, and Lennox.
“Oh, yes,” my father says, leaning forward and rubbing his hands together. “You got the cookie. Let’s dig in.”
I chuckle.
“The cookie wasn’t necessary.”
“The cookie is underselling it. I should be getting you something much more extravagant. A new car, your own house, something else. You finished another semester of college. This is a milestone to celebrate, and I am very proud of you.”
“Thanks, Dad, but you do know I still need to take my finals, right?”
“I do, and I also know you’ll crush them. Now hand that to me, and I’ll take the first bite. Don’t tell your mother.”
I set the cookie on his desk, and we both dig in. Crumbs coat the corner where it sits, but that doesn’t faze my dad.
“We better save some for Whitney and Owen.”
I nod. “Yeah, last time we went overboard.”
We both laugh at the memory. The last time my dad bought a giant cookie, the two of us ate at least seventy-five percent before Whitney and Owen even made it back from lunch. I typically eat much healthier, but cookies are a weakness my father and I share. Plus, I think he buys them for the office because my mom doesn’t allow sweets in the house. That probably explains why he bought it for me before the semester was actually over.
My father’s computer pings with an email alert, and like before, he sighs.
“What’s going on?”
He shakes his head. “More discussion from the board on selling the company. The decision has me torn.”
“What’s the topic of discussion today?”
“Just different interested parties. I want to see more of their plans with the company if I sell.”
“You don’t want to sell it anymore?”
My father has been going back and forth with the idea. In all honesty, I think he’d jump on the chance, but he’s waiting on me. His oldest son who still has no idea what direction he wants to go in life: take over the company or continue on to med school. Neither are a bad choice.
Sometimes, I think my life would be easier if I had my friend, Mark’s, life. His father has his entire life planned out. Mark doesn’t get a choice. And I don’t think he’s too concerned about it. Well, he might be now considering he and Kass, another good friend of mine, had been dating the past seven years until he cheated on her and got the other girl pregnant. His life might not be as organized as he thought.
Still, if the decision were already laid out for me, I wouldn’t feel this conflicted. Instead, my father is patiently waiting for me to choose my own future, and I’m … confused. It’s a big choice to make. Clearly, my family has lived very well, so I know that taking over the company would be a smart move financially.
