Novels by J.O

SAMANTHAMr. Carter didn’t speak.He just watched me from across the room, arms folded, an unreadable expression on his face. Not angry. Not kind. Just… sharp. Quiet.And somehow, that was worse.I kept my eyes on the bookshelf behind him, like maybe if I stared long enough, I’d melt into it. There was a row of leather-bound books, with titles I couldn’t make out. Some law. Some history. Some generic, intellectual crap that screamed power and wealth and don’t mess with me.He still didn’t speak.God. Please say something. Yell. Question. Judge me. Just don’t sit there. Don’t make me sit in this silence like a student about to be expelled.“I—” I started, but my voice barely made a sound. I shut my mouth again.Still nothing.He tapped one finger on the armrest. Calm. Controlled. And then…“Why’d you let it happen?” He asked, voice low, cutting through the air like glass. “With Mason. When he was still with Audrey.”I froze.The shame hit hard, like a cold slap to the face. It crawled u

SAMANTHAI got dressed slowly, like dragging myself through water.Every movement felt heavier than it should’ve. The emerald green dress hung on the back of the closet door like it was watching me. Judging me. Pretty. Elegant. Safe.The kind of dress you wear when you want to be noticed, but not too much. When you want to say, “I belong here,” even if deep down, you’re not sure you do.I slipped it on anyway. It hugged my figure in that careful, flattering way… respectful, not desperate. Modest, but still me.I curled my hair into soft waves, letting them fall over one shoulder. Pinned back one side so it looked intentional. Composed. In control.Makeup was minimal, dewy foundation, a little blush, mascara, and nude lips. Just enough to glow. Not enough to scream, "Look at me."I didn’t want to look like I was trying too hard. I just… wanted to look like I still fit into Mason’s world. Into the Carters’ world. Even if I wasn’t sure I did anymore.I stared at my reflection, trying not

SAMANTHAI couldn’t sleep. I’d been tossing and turning for what felt like hours, but Mason hadn’t moved.His arm was still draped over my waist, heavy and warm. His breathing, slow and steady, tickled the back of my neck.Mine wasn’t.My heart was racing. My mind was a mess.What if they hate me? What if I say the wrong thing? What if they still want Audrey?God. I hated that one the most.I shifted again, careful not to wake him, but of course he noticed. Mason always noticed.His fingers brushed over my lower back, lazy and gentle. “You’re thinking too much again.”I didn’t say anything. Just nodded into the pillow.He pressed a kiss to my shoulder, voice thick with sleep. “You want a distraction?”I finally glanced back at him. “Like what?”His lips curved into the smallest smile. “Let me take you out tomorrow. Just you and me. Somewhere nice. You deserve it.”I sighed. “You’re just trying to stop me from having a panic attack.”“Exactly,” he said, completely unbothered. “So let me

SAMANTHAI had to literally peel myself out of Mason’s arms this morning.No exaggeration. He had both arms wrapped around my waist like a human seatbelt and mumbled something about me being “his forever blanket.”It would’ve been cute if it wasn’t already ten minutes past when I was supposed to get up.“Mason,” I groaned, squirming. “Let go. I’m going to be late.”“You’re warm,” he mumbled, voice thick with sleep. “Stay.”“I have to study.”“You can study here.”“With you biting my neck every five minutes?”He peeked one eye open and smirked. “That’s called encouragement.”The moment I mentioned I’d be seeing Liam and Macey today, he perked right up. Like full wake-up mode. Suddenly he was all hands and kisses, his mouth trailing down my shoulder, leaving hickeys like I was a damn canvas.“You’re marking me,” I said, breathless, trying to push him off gently.“Exactly.” He smiled into my skin. “Maybe Liam will get the hint.”I rolled my eyes, even as my stomach flipped. “You’re ridic

MASONAbout a hundred things ran through my mind the second Samantha texted me that she needed to talk.The strongest fear?Liam. That bastard.I sat up straight on my bed, already pulling on a hoodie. “I knew I should’ve hit him when I had the chance.”Flashback hit me fast…earlier that day, parking lot, hot sun, zero patience.He was leaning against that stupid silver Honda of his, arms crossed like he had nothing to hide. Like he hadn’t kissed my girl…yes…I’ve not forgotten that brief kiss.I didn’t waste time.“Do you love her?”He didn’t flinch. Just looked at me, calm as hell, and said, “Yes.”No hesitation. No shame.And I swear, I forgot how to breathe for a second. My hands curled into fists. I wanted to swing. I wanted him to give me a reason.But then he added, “But I’m getting married.”I blinked. “To someone else?”He nodded. “Yeah. Not Sam.”That part? That part made me want to throw a fucking party.“Then why touch her?” I’d snapped.He shrugged, like the answer didn’t m

SAMANTHAMy legs barely worked this morning. And it was all Mason’s fault.I rolled over with a groan, sheets tangling around my ankles. Every muscle in my body felt rung out, used, stretched, and just the right kind of sore.He didn’t just touch me.He tore through me like I was something delicate. Like he couldn’t believe I’d let him. Like I’d disappear if he wasn’t careful.The worst part?I let him. No… worse, I wanted him to… all the time.I sat up slowly, winced a little, and dragged myself to the bathroom.The mirror was a mess. My hair was half a knot and my lips were a little puffy. I looked like someone who’d had a long, long night and a ruinous morning.He left me wrecked and smiling.“I hate him,” I muttered to my reflection, but it came out soft. Full of affection I didn’t know what to do with. “I actually hate him.”The shower was hot and steamy and completely useless at scrubbing my skin. I tried to shake the memory of his mouth on my neck, the way he’d whispered somethi

Six months later...The wind in North Dakota had a bite to it, but the sky stretched wide and endless, like a soft blue promise.The air smelled fresh, a little wild—like new beginnings.I stood by the window of our small off-campus apartment, cradling a chipped mug of hot cocoa between my hands.The windows fogged slightly from the warmth, and outside, the trees shivered, shaking loose the last stubborn golden leaves.Behind me, I heard Noah moving around—the heavy thud of books hitting the floor, the low, sleepy curses as he dug through his bag.It made me smile.“Your Psych book’s on the table,” I called out without turning.There was a beat of silence. Then the familiar sound of his bare feet padding closer.The next thing I knew, his arms were sliding around my waist, pulling me back against him.“You’re magic, you know that?” he murmured into the curve of my neck, his voice low and rough from sleep.I laughed softly, leaning into him, feeling the solid weight of his chest agains

Cameron’s presence hit me like a slap.For one terrible second, I couldn’t breathe.The blood roared in my ears, drowning out everything else.Then I was on my feet before I even knew it, my chair screeching loudly across the marble floor.“What the hell, Mom?!” I shouted, my voice sharp and broken at the same time.The room went deathly still.Noah reached for me quickly, his hand brushing my wrist, his voice low and urgent.“Elena... don’t. Calm down.”But I couldn’t.I shook him off hard, blinking against the hot sting behind my eyes. My chest heaved as I looked at my mother.She just sat there, unbothered, like the commotion in front of her was nothing more than a breeze.I pointed a trembling finger at her, my anger spilling out faster than I could control.“You planned this,” I hissed, my voice breaking. “You had an agenda when you invited us. You set us up.”A sick, bitter laugh threatened to climb up my throat, but I swallowed it back.My mother didn’t flinch.Didn’t blink.Di

I paced the room while Noah tried on the last suit. My feet moved without meaning, a slow circle around the scattered ties and open boxes.He stood near the mirror, tugging gently at the dark jacket, adjusting the collar like it was choking him.He looked… perfect.Sharp suit. Fresh haircut. Clean lines. My heart ached just looking at him.But his eyes—those told a different story.Nervous. Stiff. Scared.“You okay?” I asked gently.He gave a short nod, jaw tight.I stepped closer, folding my arms. “It’s just dinner.”He looked at me in the mirror. “It’s dinner with your mother.”His voice was flat, but not cold. Just tired. Like he was already carrying too much and this was one more weight on his back.I didn’t blame him.“She’s not going to bite,” I offered, trying to lighten the mood.He raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”A laugh slipped from me before I could stop it. Then I moved behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist, resting my cheek against his back.“She doesn’t

Noah froze the moment the words left my mouth.“My mother wants to meet you.” I said again.His mouth dropped open, his eyes wide like I’d just told him I was pregnant with triplets or something. He didn’t speak. Didn’t move. Just stood there, blinking like someone had knocked the air out of him.I couldn’t help it—I nearly laughed. The look on his face was priceless.“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” I said, smiling gently.He blinked again, his brows pulling tight. “I just… why now?”His voice was quiet, like he wasn’t even talking to me, more like he was trying to solve a puzzle out loud.I could see it—the way his mind was spinning, trying to make sense of it. His fingers twitched at his sides like he wanted to run them through his hair. His lips moved like he was still calculating something he couldn’t quite figure out.I stepped closer, my bare feet soft against the floor, and cupped his face in my hands. His skin was warm. Familiar. Mine.“It’s just dinner,” I whispered.The

I woke up to the chill of an empty bed.Noah was gone.The pillow beside me was cold, like he’d been up for hours.My chest felt heavy. A slow ache started to bloom there, right behind my ribs. I stretched beneath the blanket, trying to shake it off. But it didn’t help. I knew exactly why I felt like this.I had to tell him.About my mother. About the invitation to dinner. The one that had been sitting in my phone like a bomb I was too afraid to open.But I didn’t know how to say it. It felt… wrong. Strange. Like pulling him into a world he’d finally escaped. And yet, it mattered. Maybe not to him, but to me. Because things were starting to feel real between us, and if we were going to survive this—us—then I had to be honest.I sighed and pushed the covers off me. The floor was cold beneath my feet, the silence in the room louder than it should’ve been.I pulled on one of Noah’s sweatshirts hanging on the chair. It still smelled like him—woodsy and clean, like pine after rain.I padde

I woke before the sun.The sky outside was still dark, painted in shades of grey and blue. The kind of quiet only early morning knew.Elena was curled up beside me, her hand resting lightly on my chest, her breath warm against my shoulder. Her face was soft in sleep. Peaceful. Safe.For a moment, I didn’t move. Just watched her. I let myself feel the weight of her trust—how far we’d come, how close I’d almost lost her.But something inside me twisted. A heavy knot I couldn’t shake.Like I’d left something undone. Something important.I needed to close that door before I could fully stand in the one she had opened for me.I moved slowly, careful not to wake her. I slid out from beneath the blanket, freshened up, and got ready to leave.On a piece of scrap paper, I scribbled:Be back soon. Needed to close a door.I folded it and left it by her phone.I stood there for a moment, staring down at her sleeping form. My heart tugged, wanting to stay. Wanting to forget the past and just live