Melody's Crush: (Book One)


Melody’s Crush


Alora Dillon


Kindle Edition


Melody’s Crush

© 2014 by DLK Publishing House


This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.


All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading and electronic sharing of any part of this book without permission of the publisher constitutes unlawful piracy and theft of the author's intellectual property. If you would like to use any material from this book (other than review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher. Thank you for your support of the author's rights.


Book Cover Design by Donna Hunter


This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons living or deceased, places, events or locales is purely coincidental.


Teen / Young Adult


Disclaimer: The material in this book may contain language that can be construed as offensive, some descriptive nudity and mild to moderate sexual connotation. Reader be advised.


Purchase or possession of this book means the reader is agreeing they have read and understood the disclaimer and holds the publisher and author completely harmless of any wrong doing.


All characters in this book are age consenting adults of 18 or older.



Melody’s Crush


There was a tap on the window and I could hear the squeaking of the hinges as it opened. Two booted feet plopped down on the floor and then the window was closed.

“Ready?” an all too familiar voice called out.

My heart gave a little skip as I smiled to myself anticipating what Jake would be wearing today to cause all the girls to swoon in school. Turning slowly, I eyed him carefully and took in the splendor of his presence from head to toe and then back again for a second trip.

“Well?” he asked teasingly. “Does this meet with your approval?”

I squint my eyes and wrinkled my nose causing my thick black rimmed glasses to rise above my eyebrows pretending as if I had to really think about it. But this guy could make a garbage bag and old man slippers look GQ. Literally, since that is what he wore for Halloween last year after losing a bet with his buddies and he still took first prize.

My eyes refused to close as he walked over towards me, standing so close that I could smell the musky scent of his cologne mixed with the warmth of his skin.
Ah, Jake Obsession
. If I could bottle it, I could make a fortune. It just made every bit of my Spidey senses tingle.

What I loved most was his height. In ninth grade, I used to tease him about being shorter as I was a forehead taller than him during the first of the year. By Christmas, he shot up and just kept on going. From then on, he never missed the opportunity to tease me about my height and I learned a valuable lesson.

Tease harder before the window of opportunity closes!

Standing in front of me now, he easily towered over me by half a foot and I was certainly no spring chicken. My heart raced a thousand miles a second as I stared at his slightly exposed chest.

Why did he like showing off his chest like that? It’s enough to drive a girl crazy!

Holding my breath, I could feel the heat radiating from my cheeks as I reached upward to button the one button that would offer me my sanity back. My knuckles lightly brushed his chest as I tried and failed to button it due to my knees rebelling against my weight.

“Hey!” he said causing a pop in my libido bubble. I gasped at the unexpected hold he had on my wrists preventing me from getting the little button securely through the hole. I bit my lip in order to muffle the odd sound coming from my throat.

Don’t let go. Please, don’t let go!

“I like it open.” He smacked both of my hands playfully and then took a step backward.

Then I felt a resounding pop against my forehead knowing full and well it was going to leave a raspberry mark all through breakfast.

Strike one.

“Ah, damn it Jake!” Rubbing my forehead tenderly, I pushed him so hard he fell back on my bed. Laughing, he easily bounced back up, flicked the tip of my nose as if I were a child he was teasing and then headed out my bedroom door.

Strike two.

“Jake,” my mother chided as he bumped into her in the hall. “I really wish you would use the front door.”

I could hear him kissing her on the cheek and there was no doubt my mother melted in the palm of his hands.

Strike three.

Mom felt that Jake could do no wrong and never once felt him to be a threat to her one and only virtuous daughter. Of course, that didn’t say much about me and it actually was so annoying that she felt so comfortable with him being constantly around me that I just wanted to strangle her. Visions of her daughter making out with the hottest guy in school just never seemed to cross her mind. And obviously, not his. 

Nope, she only saw him as the honorable son she never had and my overly protective brother from another mother.

Okay. Okay… I got it!

No one needed to tell me twice let alone once that I was not Jake’s type. Gods like him didn’t so much as glance at mere mortals like me. With Los Angeles being the hub where all the Gods and Goddesses lived, he would definitely never go without. Girls had to be a solid walking ten or else he wouldn’t bother.

What kicked my ego a little harder was when he asked me to rate a girl before he pursued. It used to be amusing, but now it just annoyed the crap out of me. It was always the same type. Long straight brunette hair, no tan even though we lived in one of the sunniest cities of the world…
or at least in my book
. Not too fit and not too skinny, heart shaped face preferred, symmetrical features, flawless skin, straight teeth and of course, full lips.

She had to be smart and funny.

Okay, smart was my requirement but that was just bonus points to him. In the end, other than smart and funny, everything on his list left me out of the running. Although I had my father’s curly hair and my mother’s striking eyes, Jake never saw me as anything but plain ole’ safe Melody, best friend. Sister. And for the most part, I was fine with it.

And eventually I’ll stop lying to myself.

Over the past three years, he and I agreed on a total of eight brunettes and two blondes. Of course, he went against my better judgment on at least a half dozen more.


Jake was definitely a player and he didn’t seem to mind holding that title.

Actually, I understood better than anyone why Jake never saw me as more than a best friend and a sister. We practically lived together. I was the girl living in Jake’s parent’s spare two bedroom apartment that was designed for guests or live-in help. It had plenty enough space for a mother and daughter duo. We lived quite well for ourselves and we were allowed to use the pool and backyard anytime we wanted.

Although, to this day, I hadn’t dipped a toe in it since hitting puberty

While I was allowed to come and go as I pleased at the ‘mansion’ as I called it, I respect his family’s privacy and only visited when invited. I couldn’t say the same for Jake though. His comings and goings through my bedroom window have been constant for the past ten years and it was enough to make the head spin. And for the most part, I liked the dizzy feeling it left me with.

Speaking of dizzy, I followed Jake down the hall until we spilled into the small kitchen where mom had already put waffles and forty-five second microwavable bacon on the table.

Nothing like a nutritious meal to get our day started.

Mom poured herself a cup of coffee and added so much heavy whipping cream, it made my arteries cringe just watching her take the first sip.

She kissed me on the cheek and then reached to ruffle Jake’s hair causing him to put up his arms in defense. Instead, she popped him on the arm, grabbed her keys and left. Watching how much he enjoyed my mother’s playfulness pulled at my heartstrings.

“You really are my mother’s son,” I said teasingly.

He just grinned through a mouth full of bacon and I couldn’t help but laugh.

This was a typical morning in my household. For the most part, I loved it. I just wished Jake felt for me more than a brotherly affection. But if that were the case, I would miss having mornings like these with him and I wasn’t willing to trade that for anything in the world, accept of course, to be his girlfriend. And I already know I don’t meet his standards. So, I will just stay happy right where I’m at.

Unknowingly, I sighed out loud causing Jake to look at me curiously. Chuckling to myself over my crazy thoughts, I picked up a piece of bacon and tossed it at him. Of course, he caught it without blinking an eye and shoved it into his perfectly shaped Adonis mouth. I blinked a few times trying desperately to erase the image of his lips pressed against mine. Heat rushed to my cheeks.

“Are you okay?” he asked, causing me to blush even more.

I shook my head yes nervously and took my plate to the sink. He followed my lead and then we headed out the door.

“I’ll drive,” he said grabbing the key fob from my hand. And of course, I let him since it was the only way I could actually stare at him without getting caught.

You see, I don’t like other people’s driving. Call it phobia, call it crazy, but I’m going to call it opportunity. Jake knows how much I hate other people’s driving and he doesn’t particularly care for my granny style driving either. So, in order for us to reach a compromise, he told me to just keep my eyes on him while he drives and let him keep his eyes on the road. I was all for that! So for ten minutes every morning, I got to study every feature he had until arriving at school.

Jake opened my side of the door first and then got into the driver’s seat. It was clear to me that he just liked driving my sports car compared to his ‘old man’ beamer as he called it. I got this limited edition 2015 Ford Mustang Coupe concept car with a V6 automatic transmission with one of a kind, burnt amber metallic paint last year for my seventeenth birthday from my dad. He paid as much as a house for it and it was just one of the many overly expensive gifts he would send to try and “make-up” for all the times he was not around.

He left my mother for another woman when I was just four years old. Or so he says. But in truth, my mom left him after finding out he was having an affair. Does he regret it? It seems so. But no matter how many relationships he had been in since, he always kept trying to get my mother to get back with him. And of course, my mother refuses him every time.

And as long as she continues to refuse him, the more extravagant my gifts get. I mean, I’ve done the weekend daddy visit thing since I was five. But for the last few years, I basically gave him every excuse in the book as to why I couldn’t come over. So, eventually, he gave up trying to see me. I didn’t hate him. I just didn’t want to be around him that much.

“You seem a little distant today. What’s up?” Jake asked, shaking me from my thoughts.

Removing my black rimmed glasses, I rubbed my eyes pretending that I didn’t get much sleep. “Just a little tired, I guess.”

He chuckled to himself as we reached the longest stoplight between home and school. He turned to me grinning causing my stomach to do more flips.

“You really need to set a time limit to your studying. All work and no play makes Melody a dull girl,” he said teasingly. He grabbed my knee and squeezed causing me to jump out of my skin and erupt with giggles. I tried desperately to push his hand away but he latched on squeezing until I was coughing in fits of laughter.

“Alright, alright, alright!” I screamed. I punched him repeatedly in his right arm and he finally let go. He rubbed my head causing my carefully contained curls to dislodge from my braid and go every which way.

I popped his hand repeatedly. “Stop, you jerk off!” I said, more teasing than anything. Flipping down the mirror hidden in the visor, I tried desperately to tuck the disarrayed curls back into place with little success.

Jake’s laughter caused my ears to ring. “There really is no way to control that mop of yours so you might as well stop trying.”

That stung.

If looks could kill, I would have been behind bars already after the look I sent him. He was actually a bit surprised. I realized too suddenly that I had no right to get hurt at his brotherly teasing. So, I popped him on the arm again.

“Piss off!” I said and then gave him my best Cheshire grin.

He gently pulled the tail of my French braid backward and I turned and slapped at his hand. He slapped my hand back and then it was a back and forth game until eventually, as usual, it ended in me punching his arm to get him to stop teasing me.

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