Tides That Turn
Author
Selina Jefferson
Reads
18.5K
Chapters
64
Vet Katie Moore is ready to leave her cheating boyfriend behind—until a wild girls’ night in Hollywood collides with LA’s newest football star: her first love, Jensen Adams. With old wounds, new sparks, and the spotlight closing in, Katie is pulled back into a world of fame, temptation, and dangerous attention—where trusting the wrong man could cost her everything.
Chapter 1
KATIE
I smile to myself as I close my computer down for the weekend. I glance at the time, and I can’t remember the last time I finished so early. Not that I’m complaining—I’m not! I love my job…most of the time.
My last patient, Tom, was extra feisty today and gave us a bit of a fight before we managed to knock him out, but my hand is still stinging from the scratches and bites he gave me. Well, I suppose you would be a little feisty too if you were getting your manhood taken away!
I swear they know what’s happening when they come in for the procedure. They can be the most loving and placid thing ever, but when they come in for this operation, it’s like a switch goes off and they turn feral!
Sorry, let me introduce myself. I’m Katie. Katie Moore. I’m a veterinarian working at the Animal Hospital here in Hermosa, LA.
I grab my bag and double-check that the medication cabinets are locked, then I turn off the light and lock my office. As I head to the reception area, I look to see if any emergency cases have come in, but it’s empty.
“Hey Katie, it’s a lovely day to get finished early.”
I look over to see who it is and find Tara, one of our receptionists, smiling at me.
Tara is stunning. She has the most beautiful olive skin, dark mocha hair that just falls below her shoulders, and her eyes are so mesmerizing—they’re the lightest shade of brown I’ve ever seen.
“Hey Tara, I know, right? I couldn’t believe it when the last two clients canceled. Especially Mrs. Melvin—she never cancels!”
Tara laughs as she nods. “I know, it shocked me when she rang. She said something about going out of town for the weekend.”
I shrug as I walk over to the reception desk. Tara glances at my hand. “I see Tom put up a good fight. Have you rinsed it with the antiseptic wash?”
“Yeah, he certainly did. And yeah, I did it before and after the operation. The sting is starting to dull down now. So, Tara, what are your plans for the weekend?”
She shrugs and smirks at me. “Katie, I never make plans. I always seem to have the best time when I don’t.” She winks.
I shake my head and laugh. “Well, see you Monday, Tara.”
“Bye, Katie, have fun.”
I walk along the streets, and the sun is cracking the sidewalk. It really is a beautiful day. As I head toward home, I decide to stop at a little beachfront coffee shop. I order my latte and sit outside on the veranda that overlooks Hermosa Beach.
I look around at all the different groups on the beach—the families, groups of friends playing different sports, and some couples walking along the shoreline—and smile. I love it here. I love living here. It’s quiet and safe.
Finishing my drink, I get up and make my way home. It’s only around a seven-minute walk from the coffee shop. I live in one of the beachfront houses, and I love it! I didn’t buy it—I inherited it from my Pops and Grams, my mother’s parents.
They both passed away a year and a half ago after their car was rammed off the road by a drunk and high driver who had taken chase from the police. Their traffic signal changed to green, and as they went to turn, the car plowed straight into the side of their car, doing around seventy miles per hour.
My grandparents’ car had flipped a couple of times before settling on the roof. They believe my Grams died instantly, while Pops passed away two days later due to a major bleed on his brain that they just couldn’t stop.
The driver of the other vehicle died on impact. She might have survived if she had her seat belt on, but she didn’t. When the tox and blood work report came back, she had quite a lot of cocaine in her system, along with being five times over the alcohol limit.
My mom was completely destroyed after the accident, and it took nearly a year of therapy three times a week to get her back—well, somewhat back anyway. She’s still not the same, but she’s getting there. It’s a slow process trying to move on after something like that.
I miss them terribly. We’re a close-knit family, and Pops and Grams were the glue that held us together. Sure, we have our issues, but we can never stay mad at each other for long. If we did, Grams would step in and make us sort it out.
I’m the youngest of my siblings. My twin brother and sister, Dylan and Kristen, are the eldest at twenty-eight, then there’s Marcus at twenty-five, then me.
Grams was the heart of the family, and Pops was the brains. He always had the best advice—that’s why their hospitality business was such a success.
My Pops and Grams, Edward and Marion Cahill, owned a string of high-class hotels and were extremely wealthy. Of course, that got passed down to my mom and her brother William.
Pops and Grams had a lot of properties that were shared out among their grandchildren. I got the beach house. Marcus got his house in Beverly Wood. Kristen got the house in Santa Monica since that’s where her main beauty businesses are, and Dylan is at Silver Lake. I don’t remember where Tony and Abbie—Uncle William’s kids—got their houses.
The other houses, like the one in Manhattan and Florida, we use as family homes for any of us to stay at when we need or want a break, or have a family vacation. That doesn’t really happen as often as we’d like due to Marcus’s schedule.
Playing for the LA Rams as a wide receiver, it’s hard to pin him down between games and practice, but we manage to get a week or two here and there.
I don’t realize I’m home already until I reach my front door. I always go into my own little bubble when I think about them.
I step inside and take my shoes off as I place my bag over the hanging rack. I look at the time on my phone, and it’s 4:20 p.m.
“Fuck it! It’s eight o’clock somewhere in the world, right?” I mumble as I make my way to the kitchen, take the half-bottle of wine out of the fridge, and grab a glass. I decide to have a nice hot bath with my wine and book.
Cam
Hey babe, how’s your day? Xx
I smile while sipping my wine and send a message back.
Katie
Hey Cam, it was good, actually finished early! Xx
Cam
Wow! Go you! Suppose there’s a first time for everything! Xx
I laugh at his message. God, I miss him. I haven’t seen him in two weeks. He’s been busy renovating a small hotel in Tampa, so he’s been staying there till it’s finished.
Katie
I miss you Cam xx
Cam
I miss you too Kat, sorry I got to go, speak soon. Love you! Xx
Katie
Oh, okay, speak later I suppose, love you xx
Cam
Kat don’t be like that, I need to get back to my meeting.
Katie
I’m not being like anything! Bye Cam.
I throw my phone on the bed and check on my bath. I strip off and climb in, but I just can’t fucking relax. My mind is going into overdrive. We haven’t seen each other in two weeks, and all I get is three fucking lousy texts. I normally call him because if I don’t, I wouldn’t hear from him.
“Fuck!” I shout as the images from last year start playing in my head, and they just won’t stop.
***
I drove to his house to surprise him one weekend. I managed to swap my weekend off around since Cam had seemed a little off with me for the last few weeks, so I decided to spend the weekend with him. I went to the store and grabbed some nice steaks, Cam’s favorite beer, wine for me, and Cam’s favorite cakes.
I pulled up to his apartment and noticed an unfamiliar car parked right outside. I didn’t pay any attention to it. I grabbed the bags and made my way to his place. The door was unlocked, so I went in, but as I opened the living room door, I just froze at the sight in front of me.
Cam was completely naked, sitting on the couch with his legs spread open and his head thrown back while some red-haired bimbo was sucking his cock like she was in a hot dog eating competition.
Rage and pain pulsed throughout my body simultaneously until they blended together. “Fuck, Leah, take all of me, babe…fuck…I’m close. Leah!”
That was it. I saw red in every fucking aspect of it. I marched over and grabbed her hair, which caused her to bite down on his dick.
His eyes shot open in pain, but it quickly changed to guilt and fear as he looked at me. “Babe…”
“What the fuck, you crazy bitch?” The redhead—I now know to be called Leah—shouted.
“I’m a bitch? You’re the one eating my boyfriend’s dick like it’s your last meal, you fucking whore.”
Her eyes widened at my revelation, and she turned to Cameron, who was still nursing his dick. “You told me you broke up, you motherfucker!”
She looked at me with such sorrow and pity I knew right then she really didn’t know about me. She got up and collected her things, turned to Cameron, and told him never to speak or contact her again. Then she turned to me. “I’m so sorry. I…I know how it feels.” With that, she left.
I turned to face this waste of skin and organs in front of me, looking like a deer caught in headlights. If looks could kill, this motherfucker would be burning in fucking hell right now. He had the nerve to reach for my arm, but I slapped him away.
“Don’t you ever touch me again, you filthy bastard. I want nothing more to do with you. I fucking hate you!”
Then the dam opened, and I just couldn’t stop the tears that fell. But these tears were from anger. I fucking hate that I cry so much when I’m angry—a lot of people mistake it for weakness, when in reality I’m just trying really hard not to fucking kill you.
I marched over to the shopping bags, picked my wine up, and left. I made it to my car when he came running out with pants on.
“Katie, Kat, please. I’m sorry, babe. Please, I’m so, so fucking sorry. I love you, Katie. I’m…I’m so fucking sorry…”
I completely ignored him, got in my car, and drove away.
