SWITCH
Book Five
of the
Spark Series
Jennifer Ryder
SWITCH
Copyright © 2015 Jennifer Ryder
Published by Jennifer Ryder
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, please write to the author, addressed “Request: Copyright Approval”, at jenniferryder01@gmail.com.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to the seller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Jennifer Ryder is in no way affiliated with any brands, songs or musicians or artists mentioned in this book.
Louisa Maggio from LM Creations
Editing by Lauren K McKellar
Formatting by Max Effect
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
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
Thirty-Four
Thirty-Five
Thirty-Six
Thirty-Seven
Thirty-Eight
Thirty-Nine
Forty
Forty-One
Forty-Two
Forty-Three
Forty-Four
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Also by Jennifer
About the Author
SWITCH
Jennifer Ryder
With an ex-fiancé leaving her in debt, breaking up with her girlfriend and struggling to find a place she can afford, Sophie McKenna has hit an all-time low. Everyone thinks she’s a lesbian, and she likes it that way, but her estranged parents know better.
The foul-mouthed motocross mechanic Rocco De Luca only has his incarcerated brother left. Every day is a battle of the mind and of the bottle. Tequila and easy women soothe the pain, but they never fill the void.
Rocco doesn’t mind offering his spare room to the hot lesbian he refers to as ‘Suds’. She won’t be clingy, far from it, and he’s keen on the idea of getting to see a bit of girl-on-girl action.
With such volatile personalities under the same roof, and being in April and Spencer’s wedding party, they both have to learn to get along, even though they can’t stand each other.
He never thought he might actually grow to like her.
She never thought she might actually hate him less.
DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to you, the reader, and also my Nana who passed away during the writing of this book.
You have your own story, as do I. No one is perfect. We all have our battles, some of which we fight in public, and others we struggle with in our minds.
If there is a message for this book, then it is this:
No one deserves to be judged.
Whether you’re bi, gay or straight, whether you’re covered in tattoos, have an addiction, or are fixated with green jelly and 80s movies, you deserve love, success and happiness like everyone else.
This is Rocco and Sophie’s story. They aren’t perfect, and they won’t apologise for it. To me, it is their imperfections that make them truly beautiful.
“If you judge people, you have no time to love them.” ~Mother Teresa
PROLOGUE
SOPHIE
(Three months after the end of Strike)
Once upon a time I believed in happy-ever-afters—a successful career, marriage and children running around a yard surrounded by a pristine picket fence. I almost had it with Prince Fuckface. He made promises and I ate them up, hungry to believe. I was naïve. I was blinded by his words of a blissful future. I put all my eggs in one basket—our future. Then he ruined everything and disappeared. I was evicted from the house that was to become our family home, and condemned to a mountain of debt that he had racked up without my knowledge.
Five years after him, I’m no further ahead. I can’t let my dream of having a child of my own slip from my fingers again, because the next time it’ll be too late.
As much as it’ll hurt, I have to walk away from Bonnie. It’s about time that the needs and wants of Sophie McKenna came first.
“Don’t do this,” Bonnie begs as I furiously stuff my clothes from the wardrobe into my duffle bag. The heat from her body radiates beside me as she penetrates my personal space with her tall frame.
My eyes sting as I blink back the tears. “This was never gonna work,” I choke out. “I was upfront from the start about wanting kids. You should’ve been honest.” I will not cry.
I swear my uterus is shrinking with each passing day. When a baby cries in the supermarket, my ovaries ache. This maternal urge that fills my bones is only getting stronger.
“Hon,” Bonnie says in a soothing tone. With her warm hands, she rubs down either side of my arms. The sweet hunger in her magnetising gaze and her ability to cast a spell over me would normally make me give up the fight—and I’d tell myself to be grateful for what I have. Today, I’m immune. Today, I’m fighting for me and what I want.
With a step back, I widen the distance between us. Hurt flashes in her eyes as her hands drop to her sides.
“You strung me along, thinking we were serious,” I say.
“We are serious,” Bonnie says softly, as she crosses the room and sits on the edge of our unmade bed. She rakes her long fingers through her short mousy brown hair and huffs. “Sophie, it’s at least four years now before I can make that kind of commitment. I’ve got my doctorate to finish, and you know I’m pushing to get into the surgery program. I’m not ready by a long shot.”
“We could find a donor and do this,” I repeat for what feels like the hundredth time. I can’t see why she can’t still work and have a family. I’d already said that I’d be happy to be the one to carry the baby.
“I can’t,” she says with a shake of her head. She purses her lips like she always does when she’s not backing down.
Is she afraid to commit to me long-term? Am I not worthy of the sexy doctor?
“I wanna be a young mum. I’m thirty, for Christ’s sake. I can’t wait until I’m thirty-five and then start going through the process. What if it takes years after that? What if I don’t fall at all?” When I finish my tirade, I’m almost out of breath.