Grip Trilogy Box Set Read online

  The Grip Trilogy Box Set

  Kennedy Ryan

  Contents

  The GRIP Trilogy

  Also by Kennedy Ryan

  Flow: GRIP Trilogy Book #1

  Author’s Note

  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

  Grip: GRIP Trilogy Book #2

  Quote

  Prologue

  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

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Epilogue

  Still: GRIP Trilogy Book #3

  Dedication

  Part I

  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

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Part II

  Quote

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Quote

  Epilogue

  All: A Grip Short

  Splendid Happiness: A Grip Short

  What to Read Next

  Bonus: Audio of Grip’s Vows!

  About the Author

  The GRIP Trilogy

  FLOW (Grip #1)

  http://mybook.to/FLOWAmazon

  GRIP (Grip #2)

  http://mybook.to/GRIPAmazon

  STILL (Grip #3)

  http://mybook.to/STILLAmazon

  GRIP/FLOW Spotify Playlist & Pinterest Board

  *Audiobooks available for all 3 titles.

  Check Audible Escape to listen FREE with subscription!

  Cover Art:

  Najla Qamber Designs

  Cover Photos:

  Sarah Zimmerman Photo

  Editing:

  Angela Smith, Word Whisperer

  Proofreading/Copyediting:

  Ashley Williams, AW Editing

  Paige Maroney Smith

  ***

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  https://www.subscribepage.com/kennedyryan

  Also by Kennedy Ryan

  ***The SOUL Trilogy***

  Two musicians chasing their dreams and catching each other?

  Dive into the Soul Trilogy!

  (Rhyson + Kai)

  (FREE in Kindle Unlimited)

  My Soul to Keep (Soul 1)*

  Down to My Soul (Soul 2)*

  Refrain (Soul 3)

  Available in Audible Escape!

  ***ALL THE KING’S MEN WORLD***

  Love stories spanning decades, political intrigue, obsessive passion. If you loved the TV show SCANDAL, this series is for you!

  The Kingmaker (Duet Book 1: Lennix + Maxim)

  FREE in KU!

  Ebook, Audio & Paperback

  mybook.to/TheKingmakerKindle

  The Rebel King (Duet Book 2: Lennix + Maxim)

  FREE in KU!

  Ebook, Audio & Paperback

  mybook.to/RebelKingKindle

  Queen Move (Standalone Couple: Kimba + Ezra)

  https://geni.us/QueenMovePlatforms

  The Killer & The Queen

  (Standalone Novella - Grim + Noelani)

  Coming Soon!

  (co-written with Sierra Simone)

  www.subscribepage.com/TKandTQ

  ***HOOPS Series***

  (Interconnected Standalone Stories set in the explosive world of professional basketball!)

  LONG SHOT (A HOOPS Novel)

  Iris + August’s Story

  Ebook, Audio & Paperback:

  https://kennedyryanwrites.com/long-shot/

  BLOCK SHOT (A HOOPS Novel)

  Banner + Jared’s Story

  Ebook, Audio & Paperback

  http://kennedyryanwrites.com/block-shot/

  HOOK SHOT (A HOOPS Novel)

  Lotus + Kenan’s Story

  Ebook, Audio & Paperback

  http://kennedyryanwrites.com/hook-shot/

  HOOPS Holiday (A HOOPS Novella)

  Avery + Decker’s Story

  http://kennedyryanwrites.com/hoops-holiday/

  Order Signed Paperbacks

  THE BENNETT SERIES

  When You Are Mine (Bennett 1)

  Loving You Always (Bennett 2)

  Be Mine Forever (Bennett 3)

  Until I’m Yours (Bennett 4)

  Flow: GRIP Trilogy Book #1

  If I could undo your kisses

  If I could un-feel your touch

  If I could unhook this heart from yours I would.

  But I’m trapped in the memory of what we were Stuck with the reality of what we are

  Tempted with the promise of a future Afraid of possibility

  I don’t know how our story ends,

  but this—this is where it started.

  Copyright (c) Kennedy Ryan, 2017 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of the book.

  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.

  Author’s Note

  I'm
so excited to share the Grip Trilogy in this box set. This is a really special journey that encompasses not only a timeless love story, but also touches on some of the most pressing issues of our time. I wrote these books a few years ago, and hoped issues like police brutality would be less relevant by now. Unfortunately, they are more pressing than ever.

  When I decided to do a box set and new covers for the Grip Trilogy, I also decided to revisit the conversations around social justice to ensure I had clearly articulated what my characters believe and where they stand. Bristol and Grip's story has not changed. It is as I originally dreamt and penned it, but with a few word choice changes for clarity.

  If you have the e-books of the individual titles, Flow, Grip and Still, doing an update through Amazon should deliver the most current changes to your device. This box set includes, not only all three individual stories, but also a Grip short story originally featured in the Cocktales charity anthology, and BRAND NEW scenes exclusive to this box set. There is also some cool audio that exists only here, so make sure you don’t miss it at the very end!

  Readers tell me all the time how this journey has touched them. To every person who has ever reached out, expressed how this story affected you, just know that you impacted me, and I'm so grateful Grip & Bristol's journey brought us together!

  Thank you for reading!

  1

  GRIP

  IT’S JUST ONE of those days.

  Monica’s singing in my head. I’m relying on nineties R&B to articulate myself. I’m that hungry. My mouth waters when I think of the huge burrito I was this close to shoveling down my throat before I got the call. My stomach adds a rumble sound effect to the hunger.

  I visually pick through the dense LAX crowd, carefully checking each baggage claim carousel. No sign of her. Or at least what I think she might look like.

  Rhyson still hasn’t texted me his sister’s picture. If I know my best friend—and I do—he probably doesn’t have a picture of her on his phone. He wouldn’t want to admit that, knowing how important family is to me, so I bet he’s scrambling to find one. They are the weirdest family I’ve ever met, which is saying something since mine is no Norman Rockwell painting. I’ve never actually met any of the Gray family except Rhys and his Uncle Grady. Rhyson’s parents and sister still live in New York, and he hasn’t seen them in years. Not since he emancipated. We don’t “emancipate” where I come from. Nah. We keep shit simple and just never come home. Worked for my dad. He didn’t even wait till I was born to leave. Less messy and fewer legal fees. But we didn’t have a fortune to fight over like the Grays did.

  My phone rings, and I answer, still scanning the crowd for a girl fitting Rhyson’s vague description.

  “Whassup, Rhys.” I clutch the phone and crane my neck to see over what must be a college basketball team. Not one of them is under six five. Even at six two, I can’t see the forest for the trees with trees this tall.

  “Trying to finish this track. Bristol there yet?” That note in Rhyson’s voice tells me this conversation only holds half his attention. He’s in the studio, and when he’s there, good luck getting him to think about anything other than music. I get it. I’m the same way.

  “I don’t know if she’s here or not. Did you forget to send the picture?”

  “Oh, yeah. The picture.” He clears his throat to make way for whatever excuse he’s about to give me. “I thought I had it on my phone. Maybe I accidentally deleted it or something.”

  Or something. I let him get away with that. Rhyson’s excuse for sending me to pick his sister up from the airport is legit. There’s this pop star diva who needs a shit ton of tracks remastered at the last minute before her album drops, but I suspect he’s also nervous about his sister’s visit. Maybe this emergency is a convenient way to avoid dealing with her for a little bit. Or inconvenient, if you were me and missed lunch rushing to get to the airport as stand-in chauffeur.

  “Well, I don’t know what she looks like.” I push my sunglasses onto the top of my head.

  “She looks like me,” he says. “I told you we’re twins. Lemme check the Cloud for a picture.”

  Did dude just seriously say ‘check the Cloud’?

  “Yeah, Rhys, you check the Cloud. Lemme know what you find.” “Okay,” he says from the other end, and I can tell he’s back into that track. “I called to tell her you were coming, but I keep getting voice mail. I’ll try again and send a pic.”

  Once he hangs up, I concentrate on searching methodically through the crowd. She’d be coming from New York, so I’ve narrowed it down to one carousel. “She looks like me” isn’t much to go on, but I stop at every tall, dark-haired girl, and check for signs of Rhyson’s DNA. Hell, she could be right in front of—

  That thought fizzles out when my eyes land on the girl standing right in front of me.

  Shit.

  Black skinny jeans cling to long, lean legs that start at Monday and stretch all the way through next week. A white T-shirt peeps through the small opening left by the black leather jacket molding her arms and chest.

  And the rack.

  The leather lovingly cups the just-right handful of her breasts. Narrow waist and nice ass. She’s not as thick as the chicks I usually pull, but my eyes involuntarily scroll back up her slim curves, seeking the face that goes with this body.

  Fuck. This woman is profanely gorgeous.

  I never understood the big deal with high cheekbones. I mean, they’re cheekbones, not tits. You can’t motorboat cheekbones, but now I get it. Her face makes me get it. The bones are molded into a slanting curve that saves her face from angularity and elevates it to arresting. Her mouth, a wide, full line, twists to one side as she scans the crowd around her with eyes so light a shade of gray they’re almost silver. Dark, copper-streaked hair frames her face and slips past her shoulders.

  The alert from my phone interrupts my ogling. It’s a text from Rhyson.

  Rhyson: Here ya go. This pic’s old as hell, but she can’t look much different.

  When the photo comes over, it confirms in my nearly agnostic mind what my mother has been trying to tell me for years. There must indeed be a God. How did I ever doubt Him? He has sent me, little old me, a tiny miracle to confirm His existence. It isn’t water into wine, but I’ll take it. I toss my eyes up to the sky and whisper a quick thanks to the Big Guy. Because the girl in the family picture, though almost a decade younger and with braces and frizzier hair, is the gorgeous, willowy woman standing in front of me in baggage claims. One hand on her hip and a frown between her dark eyebrows, she leans to peer down the conveyor that now holds only a few bags.

  “Dammit,” she mutters, pulling her hair off her neck and twisting

  it into a knot on her head. “I don’t need this today.”

  “We were on the same flight,” a guy offers from beside her, his eyes crawling up and down her body in a way that even makes me feel violated. “My luggage still hasn’t come either. Maybe we could—”

  “Don’t.” The look she gives him should wither his hard-on. “It’s so not happening.”

  “I was just thinking if you—”

  “I know what you were just thinking.” She turns away from him to search the conveyor belt again. “You’ve been just thinking it since we left New York, and not hiding it. So again, I’ll say …”

  She turns back to him with a look that would singe the fuzz off your balls.

  “Don’t.”

  I like her already. The guy is sputtering and still trying, but he has no game. It’s sad really. Guys who have no game.

  “Bristol,” I say her name with confidence because I can already tell that’s the only thing she’ll respond to.

  Her head jerks around, and those silvery eyes give me a thorough up and down sliding glance. After she’s made it all the way down to my classic Jordans and back to my face, she looks just behind and beyond me, as if she isn’t sure she actually heard her name or that I’m the one who said it.