My Bad Decisions
An On My Own Novel
Carrie Ann Ryan
Contents
My Bad Decisions
My Bad Decisions
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
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Epilogue
A Note from Carrie Ann Ryan
Also from Carrie Ann Ryan
About the Author
My Bad Decisions
An On My Own Novel
By
Carrie Ann Ryan
My Bad Decisions
An On My Own Novel
By: Carrie Ann Ryan
© 2021 Carrie Ann Ryan
eBook ISBN: 978-1-950443-21-5
Paperback: 978-1-950443-22-2
Cover Art by Sweet N Spicy Designs
Photograph by Wander Aguiar
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book 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 or use proper retail channels to lend a copy. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
All characters in this book are fiction and figments of the author’s imagination.
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My Bad Decisions
The first time he kissed me, we kept it a secret.
Tanner and I have been at each other’s throats ever since.
The second time he kissed me, I told myself not to fall.
I should have known something burned beneath the surface and I couldn’t resist him.
The third time led to something more and now one positive test later, neither one of us can walk away.
Only when his past sheds light on every difference we’ve chosen to ignore, we’ll have to fight for each other, or lose everything before we’ve even had a chance.
One
Natalie
I had grown up in a world of privilege. High teas, boarding schools, Mercedes as starter cars before teenagers got their even higher-end vehicles, and scary amounts of entitlement.
My parents had done their best not to spoil me, and I thought I had some concept of reality. At least, that’s what I told myself.
I did not have an Ivy League education, but I could have gone to any school I set my eyes on. Money was no object, and with the multiple trust funds that had come to me when I hit twenty-one, I didn’t even need a job. My grandmother had even suggested that I go to school to get my MRS degree—aka a husband—not my BA, BS, or Ph.D.
No, a Blake did not need a college degree, especially if that Blake happened to be a woman.
Now, if I had been born with a penis, that would have meant a whole other set of rules, requirements, and expectations. I would have had to go to business school—especially the Ivy League ones—and perhaps even law school. Some were doctors, but most of my cousins and extended family were lawyers or business executives that knew how to work with money and how to make more of it.
That was what Blakes had done for generations.
If you asked my grandmother, the Blakes came in on the Mayflower. I wasn’t quite sure if that was true, though my grandmother probably had the papers to prove it—forged or not.
I was not the Blake my grandmother hoped for, but at least I could look at myself in the mirror. Grandmother lived on the east coast, well away from us, and I rarely saw her since she didn’t like to travel to Colorado. But her mouthpiece, my mother, made sure her rules were clear.
My school friends had been of the same ideals as my grandmother, the same background as me before I decided to go to Denver State University for a degree in social work and not one of the premier colleges. I had been part of the crowd that stuck up their noses and had lunches that were a little more liquid than they were sandwich-based—even at my age. I’d never truly fit in, but I had tried to find my way with them before I changed my mind about who I wanted to be.