You Are The Reason
Tiarne Straatman
You Are The Reason
Copyright © 2025 by Tiarne Straatman
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
Tiarne Straatman asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
Tiarne Straatman has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of URLs for external or third-party Internet Websites referred to in this publication and does not guarantee that any content on such Websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.
Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book and on its cover are trade names, service marks, trademarks and registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publishers and the book are not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within the book have endorsed the book.
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To all the girls who read to escape reality,
who indulge in a little traumance for their own healing …
Welcome home.
Author Note
I enjoy reading dark books. Personally, I wouldn’t place You Are The Reason in the dark romance genre, however there may be some topics mentioned within this book which you may prefer to avoid. For a list of these, you can find them on my website.
I began writing this manuscript twelve months ago. I was in quite a dark place and desperately seeking a healthy outlet. One day my partner asked me to think about hobbies I once enjoyed, back before we had kids, back when I had time to do things ‘just for me’. So, I decided to pick up a book. It had been fifteen years since I had read a book! Fifty Shades of Grey — E L JAMES … Yes, I’m looking at you. However, that day was a game changer. I devoured Brit Benson’s whole catalog on KU before deciding to start jotting down words when my emotions became too much; another outlet I once enjoyed. I wrote with my moods and before too long, there was half a story on the page. All I had to do was go back and fill in the gaps.
This book does indeed have a happy ending for our female main character. However, it may not be the happy ending that you’re expecting. When I began writing this story and introducing the characters I had an ending in mind, it wasn’t long though before Kinsley (our FMC) took the lead and changed the course of the whole book.
I swear to you, before you all end up in my DMs, I didn’t have a goddamn say in any of this.
Playlist
I wanted to share with you all the playlist I created and listened to whilst writing You Are The Reason. All songs mentioned within the book can also be found in the playlist. Enjoy!
Listen to the Apple Music Playlist HERE
Listen to the Spotify Playlist HERE
Acknowledgments
First and foremost, my Editing Team — Callie (CJ Editing), Yondette Dungca (Yondette the Hype Girl) and my Beta Team who assisted in the developmental stage. This novel would still be sitting as a first draft manuscript without you all.
To the ANZBL admin team, thanks for being there for me on this journey, it would have been pretty damn lonely without you!
My Alpha Girls — Alice & Karli
Thank you for seeing the beauty in my first draft, for embracing the chaos and believing in me.
My Beta Team — Red, Yondette, Jordan, Steph, Bree & Cassidy.
The feedback each of you provided me with was invaluable. I could not have asked for a better group of women to read and critique my debut release. Thank you!
My ARC Team — every single one of you!
Thank you for taking the time to read and review this book for me. You guys are the ones who are pushing this book out into the world for me — THAT IS HUGE.
Now, since this is a place for acknowledgments … I think I should acknowledge the amount of brain space this book has taken up, in particular in my day to day life. My amazing partner - who wishes not to be named - has been on the receiving end of every meltdown, and has had to deal with my one-track mind over the past twelve months. Every spare moment (oh and dollar) has been devoted to this book.
Prologue
Kinsley - twelve years of age
I can hear my mother calling in the distance, most likely rambling on about something I’m to blame for. I roll my eyes so hard they almost fall into the back of my head. Opening them, I squint into the horizon, from the position of the sun I assume the time to be around 7.30am; half an hour before I can leave for school. What do you say Kinsley? Do you want to go inside, trap yourself indoors? With a mother who most likely just poured herself a glass of vodka, when she realised she had no milk for her coffee? Or, bask in the sun? The warmth of the morning sun answers the question for me, and I roll over, flopping onto my stomach.
I’m sure other parents would fret if their daughter wasn’t in the house when they woke up, but not my mum. I’ve been waking before the sun rises for a while now. Two years today to be exact. Some nights I’m not actually sure if I sleep at all; deep down I think she knows it too. Sitting up, I stretch my arms high, reaching for the sun as if my fingers were able to sweep across the sky, then I climb down the metal ladder attached to the side of the concrete water tank.
My feet sink into the damp soil at the base of the ladder. The concrete structure now blocks the sweet glow of the sunshine. The shade I now stand in mimics the weight of the shadows slowly circling me. It’s almost as if when I’m up there, I’m away from it all. It’s my escape.
I walk in through the back door, kicking my boots off as I go. ‘Good Morning, Meadow. Happy Birthday, Sweetheart.’ I sing under my breath, as the back door slams shut behind me. Pausing momentarily, I wait to see if she greets me. Well what do you know, silence. My footsteps echo down the hallway on the old wooden floor boards before I turn the corner into the kitchen, a single wrapped gift has been left on the kitchen table.
“Yeah, happy twelfth birthday to me,” I mutter.
Chapter One
Kinsley
The feeling of buzzing under my pillow draws me out of my sleep. I mutter nonsense as I roll over and fumble for my phone, 6.25am on a Tuesday, who would be calling me at this time?
Staring at the incoming, unknown caller I answer, “Hello, Kinsley speaking.”
“Miss Fallon, my name is George Watson. It’s come to my attention that you are working with a private investigator —”
His words trail off as my heart drops into my stomach, and the familiar sensation of a weight crushing my chest begins to overwhelm me … shit shit shit, it’s too early for this, especially today. I hang up the phone without thinking and quickly power it off. Focusing on my breaths to try and ground myself, I count; in 1, 2, 3 — hold, out 1, 2, 3, 4. People run out of phone battery all the time, right? I’ll turn my phone back on in an hour or so once I have had a coffee and a shower, then call him back. Yes, perfect plan Kins.
My breathing begins to slow once again and the weight crushing my chest disappears. I successfully calmed myself before the anxiety attack set in — winning. They don’t happen as often as they once did, but when they do I tend to spiral fast, so being able to snap out of it is a bonus in itself.
My hands twist my hair up into a messy bun whilst the smell of coffee drifts up the stairs. The comforting aroma makes me smile. It takes me a while to float back down to reality, remembering that I live alone, and I do not own any fancy appliances that brew your morning coffee at a designated hour. However, that would be handy.
I should probably be concerned, but if there is one thing I do know, it’s that the life of Kinsley Fallon isn’t black and white. I live somewhere in between and I’m unsure whether that keeps things interesting, or has sent me damn crazy. Climbing out of bed, I smile to myself because the aroma that has most definitely filled my entire apartment only means one thing … he’s here.
“I’m going to change the locks this week!” I call out to him, as I make my way downstairs. Lie. A little something I tell myself to keep him at arm’s length, but deep down, I know I crave these moments. I eagerly await his visits. The rose colour staining my cheeks betrays me every time.
“Oh, you wanna hide from me?” Tanner says as he grabs me from behind and presses kisses to my neck. “We can play if you want,” he whispers. The warmth of his words on my skin causes me to clench my thighs together. I struggle to have any self-control around him.
Playfully, I push him away and pick up my coffee from the island bench. I need a caffeine fix before I deal with this moody man-child. A moment to remind myself that I shouldn’t let him get too close. Is it so bad that I like to play hard to get? I enjoy the chase. Well, him chasing me. But only in the metaphorical sense, of course — not like through the woods or anything, I’ll stick to reading about that in my books.
I moved into this one-bedroom apartment six months ago. It’s nothing special but it’s everything I need. It also comes with Tanner, when he decides to drop in unannounced. His parents own the apartment, but with them newly retired and off travelling the world they left their properties, and the real estate business they own, to their son. Their olive-skinned, blue-eyed son.
Can you really blame me for not changing the locks? I know, I know it’s for my safety, but the one person I would be locking out brings me coffee with a side of orgasms.
Feeling his gaze behind me, I take a sip of my coffee and turn to face him. He’s leaning on the door frame with his arms folded across his chest, the corner of his lips turning up into a smirk. I meet his eyes, now realising that I’m only wearing a white camisole and lace thong. The phone call that had woken me had sent me into a frenzy and I hadn’t grabbed my robe.
Looking up at him through my lashes I see that he’s dressed for work; dark wash denim jeans and a crisp linen button-down shirt. His suit jacket, which is currently draped across one of the kitchen stools, ties everything together. Sophisticated yet casual. The way his sleeves are rolled up shows off his tattoos, I find myself dragging my bottom lip through my teeth at the sight. His hair isn’t messy today either, which means he is in the work car and not on his bike.
“You know, if you had called first, or even knocked, I would have made sure I was dressed appropriately for company.” I lie, again, there is something about his attention that I crave. He chuckles, the sound alone sending goosebumps down my spine.
“No complaints from me.” Tanner shrugs, taking a step closer, his ridiculously sexy smirk now reaching his eyes. My lips part, ready to tell him he can let himself out, but before I can, he closes the gap between us. With one firm finger he tips my chin up and tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
“Why do you do that?” He sighs, taking the coffee cup from my hands and placing it down. “I can see that you want to tell me to leave, when really, I know you want me to stay.” Gripping my hips, he lifts me onto the island and stands between my legs. In this position, I can feel his length growing in his jeans.
“Tanner,” I beg, not even sure what I’m asking for. My hands are pressed against his chest and I’m only a heartbeat away from pushing him backwards, yet he’s right, all I want to do is pull him closer. Dammit Kinsley, pull yourself together.
His lips and the stubble on his chin graze that little spot below my ear and he whispers, “Tell me to go and I will, I’ll walk right out that door and close it behind me, is that what you want?” I shake my head gently before something within me snaps. I fist my hands into his shirt, tug him closer and melt into his kiss. He pulls back at the last second. “What have I told you about using your words, Kinsley?”
Fuck, I moan inwardly, this moody man. I’ll never let him know how far I would go, or what I would be willing to do for him. No. That is not something I will ever disclose.
“N-no.” I manage to get out between my heavy breathing. “I don’t want you to go.”
“That’s better,” he praises, kissing me from my collarbone, up to my ear and whispers, “Good girl.”
Minutes pass and, like teenagers, our tongues tangle together as he grinds against me. It feels like butterflies are swirling around in my stomach, a feeling of desire and excitement. Tanner makes me feel things I haven’t in such a long time. He trails kisses back down my neck and across my chest. Hands gripping my waist, as his mouth teases my nipple through the lace covering my breast. When a breathy moan escapes my lips, he growls. My back is pressed down onto the counter and he throws my legs over his shoulders.
I roll my hips against the air, my body begging for any form of contact. Tanner chuckles, “Patience, Kins.” I can feel his warm breath on my thighs as he lowers his face. Tugging my thong to the side, he strokes his tongue up my center and circles around my clit, before curling two fingers inside me.
Tanner will be the end of me.
I thread my fingers through his hair, praying he doesn’t stop. I’m so close. I focus on the movement of his fingers, whilst he sucks and caresses me with his tongue. I prop myself up onto my elbows so I can watch him, my slight movement causing him to look up and meet my gaze. There is a hunger in his eyes, a darkness that sends a buzz of electricity straight through me. My head falls back, I explode around him. An orgasm bursts from my body, like fireworks.
Before I have a chance to come back down to earth, I hear the tear of foil. When did he even stop? I think to myself. He doesn’t let me get too lost in thought before I feel my thong pulled to the side once again. He lines himself up with my entrance and I watch him slowly thrust himself inside me.
“Oh God, Tanner,” I moan whilst my body adjusts to him stretching me. Hitting that spot deep inside.
“Fuck, Kins. You feel so good.” His voice is rough and that on its own does things to me, another orgasm builds.
Tanner guides my hand down between us, placing my fingers on that delicate bundle of nerves. “Play,” he commands. “I want to feel you come all over my cock.”
His voice matches that dark look I saw in his eyes moments ago. I reach down and stroke myself. Once. Twice. I whimper, I’m not going to be able to hold off any longer. Then I climax — again. My back arches and Tanner thrusts into me finding his own release. This is exactly what I needed to wake up to today. Happy Birthday to me.
Tanner collapses down onto his forearms, peppering kisses across my breasts. Once we have both caught our breath he stands and his eyes rake over me. “I better get going.” His lips brush my forehead as he helps me down off the island bench. “And you better go shower and get dressed, you know, in case anyone else pops over unannounced”.
I laugh, as I begin walking towards the stairs. Looking back over my shoulder, I watch as he fixes himself back into his jeans. He meets my eyes, winks and heads for the door.
Tanner is my escape from reality. I don’t have to think when I’m with him. Before Tanner, I was empty. Now, I’m alive. Other than how I like my coffee and my orgasms the guy knows nothing about me, and that is exactly how I want it to stay. It’s just easier this way.
Six months earlier …
Pulling up outside a two-storey townhouse close to the city center, I double-check the address which I scribbled onto a piece of paper. I feel as though I’m stepping into a fairytale … Narrow and tall, white with black trimmings and greenery creeping up to the second-storey balcony.
There is no driveway and the allocated parking is on the road. Maybe I should just sell my car? Who am I kidding, I’m not a city girl. What the hell am I thinking?
Before I can give myself any more time to change my mind I grab my purse and jump out. Rounding my car, I look to the open door of the townhouse, as a gorgeous tanned man with messy dark brown hair steps out.
Crap Kinsley, you are in trouble here, girl.
Tearing my eyes away before he notices me eye-fucking him, I take a deep breath and as gracefully as a country girl can, walk over to my new home.
“I’m guessing you’re not Mrs Hayes,” I say shyly and offer my hand for him to shake.
He laughs, and it does something to me, a strange feeling in my stomach. Are these butterflies?
I am way in over my head here.
“Annette is my mother, my name is Tanner.” His firm shake sends a shiver up my arm.
My cheeks are bound to be rosy now.
Tanner turns and walks into the house. “C’mon, I’ll give you the grand tour.”
Chapter Two
Kinsley
After Tanner left, I showered, got dressed and reheated the coffee he had distracted me from drinking earlier. Getting myself comfortable on my bed, I grab the journal out of my bedside table. Once again, I start at the beginning hoping that this time when I read it, I will find some answers. You’re being ridiculous Kins, you have read this journal in its entirety hundreds of times.
It’s true, my mother gifted me this journal for my twelfth birthday and the amount of times I have read it over the past ten years is more than I would like to admit. But something keeps pulling me back. There has to be something, somewhere in here,, that will give me the answers I am so desperate for, why else would she give it to me? I’m five journal entries deep when there is a knock at the door.
The downstairs door unlocks and then closes again. “Meadow, you home?” This time, it’s someone I actually gave a key to.
The sound of my childhood nickname causes me to choke on my breath momentarily. On any other day, I wouldn’t even blink at the mention but today … today is different. If I close my eyes really tight, I can almost imagine the footsteps moving through my apartment are my brother’s. I rub at my chest. Don’t do this to yourself, Kinsley.
Kyle – my older brother, had always called me Meadow, well as far back as I can remember anyway. He said it was because, from the day I could walk I would toddle out into the front garden and play in the flowers. Then, as the years went by and I got more adventurous, I would sneak through the garden gate and into the meadow with the horses. A smile graces my lips at the memory, the most beautiful wildflowers would grow there; sometimes when the breeze hits me just the right way, I can still smell them on the wind.
“Upstairs,” I call out.
I slip the journal back into my bedside table and sit cross-legged in the middle of my bed. Jesse’s footsteps grow closer as the tall blonde goofball I call my best friend comes into view.
Jesse dives onto the bed, the smell of freshly mowed grass and brown sugar — a weird combination but it fits him perfectly — sweeps over me as he playfully pins me down like an animal.
“Get off me,” I laugh.
A huge smile wraps across his face. “Happy birthday, glad to see you’re already up and dressed. Come on, we have heaps to do today.”
I sit back up, puzzled for a minute. Jesse is already off the bed and walking back towards the stairs. “What do you mean,” I ask. “Where are we going?”
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