Its not me its you, p.1
It's Not Me, It's You, page 1
It’s Not Me, It’s You
Young In Love Series
Elle Wright
Contents
Dear Reader
Recommended Reading
Trauma-Dicked
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Epilogue
Coming Summer 2021
Her Little Secret
Excerpt: Her Little Secret
Acknowledgments
Connect with Elle!
Also by Elle Wright
About the Author
This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
It’s Not Me, It’s You
Copyright @ 2021 by Elle Wright
Paperback ISBN: 978-0-9994213-8-3
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Excerpt from Her Little Secret
copyright @ 2020 by Elle Wright
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ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
No part of this work made be used, reproduced, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without prior permission in writing from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Elle Wrights Books, LLC
Ypsilanti, Michigan
www.ElleWright.com
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Editor:
Rhonda Merwarth
Rhonda Edits
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Cover Design:
Sherelle Green
It’s Not Me, It’s You
I fake laugh every time I think about how ironic it is to be a commitment-phobe relationship therapist who is also the daughter of two world-renowned marriage and family counselors. Seriously, it’s comical!
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Want to know how I messed up my life? Getting arrested for stealing a priceless artifact for a tearful client.
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Want to know what my biggest problem is? Spending my life teaching women how to break relationships when all I want to do is make a relationship—with him.
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Want to know what that makes me? The Break-Up Expert who is questioning everything I thought I knew.
Dear Reader
Several years ago, one character changed everything for me. I didn’t know much about her then. I only knew that she made a living helping people break up with their significant others. This character had a bunch of siblings, all named for soap opera characters. A world was formed, built around three close knit families—the Youngs, the Reids, and the Starks. A series was created, featuring eight very intelligent, very different siblings trying to find (or not) their one true love.
I’m super excited to finally be able to share this world and this family with you. Blake Young is something else! She’s not that nice, but she’s fiercely loyal. She’s real, authentic. She’s The Breakup Expert who’s afraid of commitment.
I hope you enjoy her journey as much as I enjoyed writing it!
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Love,
Elle
www.ellewright.com
Recommended Reading
Meet the Young Family
It’s Not Me, It’s You is not the first book featuring a member of the Young Clan. If you’d like to get acquainted with this family before you read, I recommend starting with the following books:
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First up, Paityn Young found everlasting love in my Park Manor novella, HER LITTLE SECRET. The twins, Blake and Bliss made their first appearance in her story.
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Blake Young appeared again as Ryleigh’s friend in my Once Upon a Baby novella, BEYOND EVER AFTER.
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Duke Young burst onto the scene in my Pure Talent novels, THE WAY YOU TEMPT ME and THE WAY YOU HOLD ME. And he stole the show.
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And, finally, Dallas Young made her presence known in my Once Upon a Funeral novella, FINDING COOPER.
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www.ellewright.com
For my sisters, thank you for inspiring me to reach for the stars.
Trauma-Dicked
A Blake Young Original
Blake
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June, Last Year
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“Well?” A soft smack to my ass followed the question, pulling me from a peaceful slumber.
I couldn’t open my eyes, though. I couldn’t even stretch like I normally did when I woke from a much-needed nap. If I did either or both of those things, I’d give myself away. Because there was a man behind me, a penis inside me. And I’d actually fallen asleep—during sex. There’s a first for everything.
Things had seemed promising tonight. Tasty food, sensual music, stimulating conversation. Dr. Donell Pointer had hit all my superficial checkmarks for consent. Looks. Sincere brown eyes, pretty white teeth, strong body. Voice. He sounded like hot sex on a smooth, dark chocolate stick. Personality. The good doctor had charisma. I’d laughed at his jokes and had even enjoyed a debate on why soulmates didn’t exist. Of course, he’d landed on the they-do side of the fence, while I’d stayed firmly on the no-the-hell-they-don’t side. I wasn’t one of those women… I didn’t believe in soulmates or that love-at-first-sight bullshit. The only way to fully love someone was if you knew them. Fight me. But even though he was a sappy son of a bitch, it was okay. Because he’d earned a check in my most important wet-panties category. Smile. Oh. My. God. That thing lit up the room. And the tiny creases around his full lips made my decision easy. Sex. All night, preferably. But at least two times.
Except, I couldn’t get through one time without a smidge of drool on the pillow, and not because he’d knocked me out with his prowess. Dr. Donnell was definitely fine as hell. Too bad he had no fuck game. No back-breaking. No tongue-talking. No toe-curling orgasm. If brown liquor was the devil, there had to be a worse name for bad, boring, small-ass dick. Hell? Disappointment? Underwhelming? No, tragic? Yep, that’s it.
“Blake?” His low voice broke my reverie.
Sighing, I opened my eyes slowly. Damn. Such a shame to be so hot, yet so limp. A nod and a forced smile later, I rolled over on my back and tried not to look at his little problem. “Where is my…?” I spotted my dress on the floor near the door. Before I could slide off the bed and race toward the bathroom, his hand wrapped around my wrist.
“Baby, where do you think you’re going? I’m not done with you.”
Oh, boy. I couldn’t help the hard roll of my eyes. Lord, I promise to do better and not be a hoe if you’ll just get me out of here without me having to hurt this man’s feelings. He was a friend of a friend of an associate. The last thing I needed was friend-group gossip. “I have to leave. Early meeting.” I offered him another smile and a light caress on his cheek.
He pulled me closer and nuzzled his nose against my neck. “How about you stay? We can have breakfast in the morning. Together.”
Shit. He just said the magic, dirty word. Together was not what’s up. “No need. I really have to go.” I slipped out of his arms. But that hand of his remained on my wrist.
“I want to see you again. Maybe you’ll give me a chance to change your mind about soulmates.”
Like hell. “Not likely,” I grumbled. “So, about that.” I scratched my head, scrambled to find the right words. Somehow, “fuck off” seemed too harsh. “We don’t have to do this. If you haven’t realized yet, I’m not one of those women who needs the obligatory ‘let’s get together soon’ speech.” Shrugging, I continued, “It’s probably best if we just not even try.”
“Blake, you’re a beautiful woman.”
Can he just shut the hell up?
“I had a good time with you tonight.” He brushed his thumb over my nipple.
I really have to find my panties.
Donnell rubbed his nose over my cheek and placed a chaste kiss there. “I don’t want this to end.”
Okay, I can live without my panties.
A mix between a groan and a whimper escaped his lips as he cupped my pussy in his palm—his small palm.
How the hell didn’t I notice this?
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against my ear. “I want you.”
Fuck the panties and the bra. I gripped his hand before his finger made contact with my clit. “Okay, stop. I’m done here.” I pushed him away, stood, and picked up my dress.
“Blake?”
I rolled my eyes, slipping my dress on quickly. Luckily I’d chosen the comfortable, flowy maxi dress over the sexy, short black dress I’d considered wearing. Turning to him, I met his waiting, pitiful gaze. “Dr. Pointer, thanks for tonight. But I’m not interested in more of this.” I motioned toward the bed. “It was…” I stopped short of saying it was nice, because I made it a habit not to lie. “Thanks for dinner and the…conversation.”
Bolting from the room, I slammed the door shut and leaned against it to catch my breath. I ran my fingers through my probably fucked-up hair and hurried out of the hotel.
The next morning, I snuck into my office, hoping to avoid—
“Blake!”
Shit.
My sister, Dallas, barged into my office and took a seat while I pretended to work. “Girl, stop. You’re not working. I saw your ass sneaking in here like a thief in my five-inch stilettos and my pencil skirt. Which I want back as soon as you take that shit to the cleaners.”
I shrugged. “Well, it’s been a few months. I figured you didn’t want them anymore.”
“Don’t play me.” She crossed her legs and assessed me.
I ducked my head. “Stop looking at me like that.”
Frowning, Dallas said, “I don’t know why you look different today.” She tapped her chin. “Your makeup is on point, hair combed… You’re fly in my clothes. But your eyes are giving me a strong you-fucked-up vibe. What the hell is wrong with you?”
That was the million-dollar question. After I’d left the doctor last night, I’d spent an exhausting amount of time questioning myself, my actions, my judgment. Which was new. Dick was a dime a dozen, and I’d perfected the art of getting mine while remaining a lady. But lately…something felt off.
Maybe it was my job? No, I loved what I did. I helped women take control of their lives. And I did that by encouraging them to lose the dead weight—that man who asked to borrow money every week because he gambled his entire paycheck, the cheater who blamed it on his pain, the jerk who thought he was entitled to beat his wife or girlfriend into submission. I assisted with the breakup, whether it was a smothering idiot, an annoying mama’s boy, a scrub boyfriend, or even a friend-with-benefits who wouldn’t accept that the enrollment period was over. I’d seen it all.
I couldn’t help but wonder, though, if my experience had fucked me up in the head or something. How else could I explain my recent track record with men?
“Before you answer that…where the hell were you last night?” Dallas asked, pulling me from my thoughts. “And why was I the only one helping Mom cook for Asa’s graduation party? I called you three times. I thought we talked about this—answer my damn calls. I don’t care if your ass is getting dicked down by Idris Elba. If I call you, pick up the phone.”
Groaning, I leaned back in my seat and stared at the ceiling. “Dallas, stop. If you’d just shut up and let me get a word in, I’ll tell you where I was.”
Although Dallas wasn’t the oldest of my siblings, she certainly held the bossy title. My sissy was an attorney, specializing in the business of marriage. Her billable hours were spent negotiating prenuptial agreements and brokering mergers between people willing to walk down the aisle and promise to love, honor, and obey in order to enhance their bottom lines. We worked together, sharing office space in Ann Arbor with my twin, Bliss, and our brother, Dexter. While our careers were different, our businesses complemented each other perfectly. It made sense to purchase the building together. Plus, I enjoyed being close to my family.
Dallas folded her arms over her chest, arching a brow. “Okay. Talk.”
“It was the doctor,” I confessed.
“Huh? What doctor?”
I met her gaze. “Dr. Pointer? My date last night.”
“Oh, you mean the date you’d promised to ditch so we could peel potatoes with Mom?”
“Dallas!” I shouted. “I’m sorry about the damn potatoes, shit.” Sighing, I stood and paced the room. “I’m rethinking a lot of things.”
“Really? So you like this doctor?”
Pausing, I whirled around. “Hell. No.” I rolled my eyes. “If lying on your dick was a person…”
Her mouth fell open. “Get out. The D was trash?”
“Girl…I can’t even describe how bad it was.” I cringed, thinking about the experience. “I just know I don’t want the doctor to see me now—or ever again.”
“Damn.” She shook her head. “He’s so fine. That’s tragic.”
“I fell asleep.”
Dallas blinked. “Da fuq? While he was doing it to you?”
“Yes. Drooling and everything.”
My sister barked out a laugh so loud, she nearly toppled on the floor. Then, I started laughing too. Which was exactly what I needed in that moment. I sat down on the love seat near the window. Dallas patted her chest. “I can’t…” She cleared her throat. “I have to get it together.” She snorted, then smacked a hand over her mouth. “I have to tell Paityn and Bliss.”
The sex therapist and the matchmaker. Hm. Yeah, no. “If you call anyone, I’ll burn this skirt and toss these shoes into the Detroit River.”
Waving a dismissive hand, Dallas pulled out her phone. Seconds later, a text popped up in our Sissy Group. Before I could stand up and choke Dallas, messages started coming through in rapid succession. All of them full of laughing and facepalm emojis.
I turned my phone over. “I hate you,” I announced.
Dallas winked. “You love me.”
I threw a pillow at her. “You get on my nerves.”
“This is what sisters are for.” She shrugged. “If we can’t laugh at you, who can?”
Giggling, I sighed. “Seriously, Dallas. I feel a little unsettled right now.”
My sister stopped typing on her phone and glanced over at me. Tilting her head, she walked to the love seat and sat down next to me. “I hope you know this skirt is tight as hell and I probably won’t be able to get back up without assistance.”
Laying my head on her shoulder, I said, “What if I’m broken?”
“Because of some bad dick?”
“No, fool.” I shoved her lightly, then dropped my head back on her shoulder. “Things have been weird for me since I broke up with Corny Colton.”
Boyfriends weren’t my thing. But I’d gone against all of my instincts and let Colton Drake call me his girl. Somehow, that one little concession on my part had morphed into meeting the family, going on trips, and calling each other multiple times a day.
Dallas grinned. “I loved Colton.”
It wasn’t just Dallas. All seven of my siblings liked Colton. Even Tristan. And my oldest brother didn’t like anyone. My parents loved him too. My father respected him, and my mother had already picked out our china pattern.
Rolling my eyes, I muttered, “I know.”
The problem was I didn’t like him that much. Yes, I loved having sex with him. He was good-looking, intelligent, successful. But that was about it. He didn’t make me laugh; he didn’t challenge me. I couldn’t imagine spending another minute with him, let alone a lifetime. Not that I was looking for a soulmate. I wasn’t. And I’m not.
“There was no substance. No…” I struggled to find the right word. “I don’t know. Honestly, I think it was his dick.”
Dallas chuckled. “Blake!”
“I’m so serious,” I said. “It was the bomb. I couldn’t stop wanting it.”
“Well—” she sighed, “—I know the feeling.”
I glanced up at her. “Really? Is there something you want to tell me?”
“Nope,” she chirped. “We’re talking about you.”
“I think I’ve made a decision. I’m putting myself on punishment.”
“From what?”
“Yak and dick.”
Dallas scooted away and pinned me with a gaze. Raising a skeptical brow, she asked, “What?”
“Dark liquor is of the devil.”
