Chapters (50)
- Cover
- Full Page Image
- Dedication
- Playlist
- Prologue
- Part One
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Part Two
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Part Three
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
- Bonus Scene
- Marni’s Midnighters
- Spoiler Group
- About the Author
- Also by Marni Mann
- Sneak Peek of When Darkness Ends
- Sneak Peek of Even If It Hurts
Drowning (Contemporary Romance)
Sneak Peek of When Darkness Ends
Chapter 1 - Ashe - Before
2000
There was beauty all over Boston, but not a single woman compared to her.
That was the only thought in my head as she came rushing out the door of her classroom, focused on the notebook in her hands, heading straight toward me. She never glanced up, never slowed her pace. She stayed fixated on whatever she was reading, rushing as though she was late.
Just leaving class myself, I should have moved to the other side of the hallway, giving her more space to walk.
But I couldn’t take my eyes off her, allowing her to crash right into me instead.
Our bodies collided, the books flying out of her hands.
Panic covered her gorgeous face as she wobbled, losing her balance, her body threatening to take her down.
I grabbed her waist, holding her steady. “I’ve got you,” I said. “I won’t let you fall.”
A long piece of her dark hair was now stuck to her lip, her sapphire eyes glimmering as though they were a cluster of carats set in a ring. The scent of fall came from her skin as I clutched the narrowness of her hips, the feel of her like the start of a thousand-piece puzzle.
“I’m sorry.” The fear dissolved from her expression, her cheeks now reddening. Once she began to breathe again, she immediately took a step back, causing my hands to drop. “I should have been looking at where I was going.” Her voice was as smooth and gentle as a song.
Rather than admitting it had been just as much my fault, I knelt to the ground and picked up the books she had dropped. Rehearsal and Performance was on the front of one, and I placed it on top of the stack and handed it to her. “That class sounds like hell.”
She glanced at the book’s cover and then back to me, holding the small pile against her chest. “It’s actually my favorite course this semester.” Her lips spread, showing teeth that were perfect enough. “I’m a theater major.”
I laughed, lifting the flap of my bag that hung on my hip. Organic Chemistry poked out of the top. “Premed—different worlds.”
“Now, that’s what I would call hell.” Her grin slapped against my chest like a crack of lightning. “I wouldn’t survive two seconds in your major.”
That smile was going to land her an Oscar—I was positive of that. It wasn’t fake or over the top, just genuine and charming, filled with the warmth of a summer campfire.
She looked toward the end of the hallway, reminding me that we weren’t alone even though it felt that way, and once again, I heard the students passing us on both sides.