Safe Love

By Cristin Cooper

Will the girl I fell for as a teenager forgive me for leaving without a word three years ago?

After spending years in foster care, my life was anything but easy. I spent my days hiding behind a hoodie and a sketchpad counting down the days until I aged out of the system. With ten days left until I turned eighteen, I never expected to make friends with the cute girl next door.

I thought of Benny every single day. She was the reason I worked hard to make my life better, so one day I could deserve her. But would she forgive me for leaving three years ago without saying a word?
I was about to find out because the girl I used to know was now a gorgeous woman, and she was standing right in front of me.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cristin Cooper
• Release date: Feb 27, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370370665

Cristin Cooper

I've been a lot of things in my life including a chiropractic assistant, insurance processor, manufacturing parts scheduler, shipper, BLM firefighter, baby wrangler but my favorite so far has been wife, mother and now author.I love reading, writing and sunshine.I've been writing since I was a teenager but didn't write/finish my first novel until I was 38. Now at forty, I'm braving the world of self-publishing.

Book preview

Safe Love

SAFE LOVE

An Always Novella

CRISTIN COOPER

CONTENTS

Copyright

Also by Cristin Cooper

1. Benny

2. Jeremy

3. Benny

4. Jeremy

5. Benny

Eight days later

6. Jeremy

Seth

7. Benny

Four days later

8. Seth

9. Benny

10. Seth

11. Benny

12. Seth

13. Benny

14. Seth

15. Benny

16. Seth

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Books In Series

COPYRIGHT

SAFE LOVE

Copyright © 2017 Cristin Cooper

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 or retrieval system without written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Cover Design: Cristin Cooper

Cover Photo: istockphoto

Editing: Nichole Strauss Insight Editing

ALSO BY CRISTIN COOPER

Always Series

Love, Ryan

Love You, Always

Love Me

Always Novella

Safe Love novella

Until Series

Until Now

Until Here novella

Until Us

Until You novella

As a mom to kids who have been teased for being weird and different, I dedicate this book to the outcasts of the world. Your differences are what make you amazing!

1

BENNY

B enny! I need your help in here, my mother yelled from the kitchen where she was preparing breakfast for the troops. It’s what she called our family which consisted of my parents, me and my seven younger siblings.

I held back a sigh as I ran the brush through my freshly dyed red hair one more time before pulling it into a ponytail. No matter what time I got up in the morning, I always seemed to be in a rush, and my mother always needed help.

I glanced down at my new-to-me outfit one more time and smiled. I found the long gauzy skirt at a garage sale last week, along with the pair of sandals that fit me perfectly. It was almost impossible to find a good pair of used shoes. When I realized they still had the tags on them, I couldn’t believe my luck. Today, I matched them with the blouse I picked up at my favorite used clothing store.

Twirling around in front of the mirror, I grinned pleased with how I managed, once again, to put together a perfect outfit. My mother called for me again squashing my excitement and reminding me that I needed to get going since I still had things to do before catching the bus.

When I walked into the kitchen, the voices of my siblings bombarded me. Every kid tried to talk over another. Most days it was every man for himself, but mornings were particularly noisy. The sheer volume of noise drove my one and only friend crazy. When we hung out, it was always at her house, but to me, the noise felt like…home.

Beautiful as ever, my mother said as she handed me my youngest sister, then examined my hair. Kissing my cheek, she gushed, I don’t know what I love more, your hair or your outfit. I beamed at my mother and the way she always managed to make me feel special. In a large family it was difficult to feel like an individual, but she always found something unique in each of us.

Thanks, Mama, I said as I bounced my baby sister on my hip. I don’t have time to help with breakfast this morning. Mr. Hill hired me to walk Bruiser in the mornings.

A few days ago, I handed out flyers to everyone in the neighborhood advertising babysitting, pet sitting, and house cleaning. Our neighbor, Mr. Hill, who I adored, claimed he didn’t have time in the mornings to walk his dog. I suspected he was just trying to find a way to help me. I have just enough time to walk him and catch the school bus in time.

A sigh was coming.

And there it was. She hated I had chosen to go to public school this year instead of continuing to be homeschooled. I think she took it personally, but it wasn’t personal. It was my chance to be like a typical teen and to see what it was like to be with kids my own age. I didn’t tell her it wasn’t what I expected, or that school was hard, not because of my classes, but because kids were mean. Even though I didn’t like it, I committed to going for a year and I always kept my commitments.

After buckling my sister into her highchair, I grabbed by bag and kissed my mother goodbye. When will you be home? she asked as I rounded the table.

Late tonight. I’m cleaning the Westerfield’s house after school then taking the bus to the Hanks’. I’ll be babysitting for them until around 11 PM.

My mother’s shoulders dropped, and she gave me her sad eyes. Goodness, Benny, when do you have time to do homework?

I’ll do it once the Hanks kids are in bed. It’ll give me plenty of time.

Shaking her head, tears formed in my mother’s eyes. My parents worked hard to bring in money. My dad worked maintenance for a local manufacturing company and cut firewood during the summer. Mom worked nights baking pies for a local restaurant and cleaned houses on the weekend. We had a roof over our heads, as small as it was, food on the table and clothes on our backs. They might have been used or hand-me-downs from neighborhood kids, but nobody ran around naked unless they wanted to. I really hate that you work so hard. You’re fifteen years old. You should be having fun with friends, not worrying about money.

I shook my head wishing my mother would worry less. At a young age, I saw how much my parents sacrificed for us and knew money was always tight. I saw the worry in her eyes when one of us kids would ask her for something we needed or wanted. She’d do her best to make sure we had necessities, but it was always a struggle. So when I turned thirteen, I began working to buy my own clothes. Now I also pay for my school supplies while trying to save money for college. It never seemed like a big deal to me. I liked working and most of the time the people I worked for were nice.

Mama, please don’t worry. I’m happy. I love my life. And I did. I might not have a lot of things, but I knew I was lucky to have a close family who loved me. I didn’t have a lot of friends, in fact, I only had one close friend, but she liked me just the way I was. I couldn’t ask for more.

Well, call me when you need me to pick you up.

You don’t need to. Mrs. Hanks always drives me home.

I know, but it’ll give us a few minutes together that I don’t normally get with you.

Okay, I relented. She might worry about me, but I worried about her. With me gone during the day, I didn’t know when she ever had time to sleep. My sister Sariah said Mom slept a few hours when the babies went down for their naps. That wasn’t enough time considering all she did. I’ll see you tonight. I gave her a hug then said goodbye to my brothers and sisters and headed out the door.

2

JEREMY

Standing in line at the bus stop, I kept my head down staring at my booted feet wishing to disappear. Unfortunately, no amount of wishing would keep the neighborhood kids from harassing me. It didn’t help when my foster brother, Cameron, initiated the bullying.

If they didn’t make fun of my scuffed-up boots that had a hole in the toe, then it was my ratty jeans that were an inch too short. When I began wearing a hoodie to hide behind, he began calling