Brodie (Until Her #10) Read Online Aurora Rose Reynolds

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Novella, Sports, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: Until Her Series by Aurora Rose Reynolds
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Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
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I just couldn’t bring myself to tell her that Kirk and Melissa were sleeping together behind my back, not when she’s loved Kirk for as long as I have.

I also didn’t want to potentially cause any problems between her and Richard by telling her what his daughter did. Not that it was all Melissa’s fault. I mean, Kirk could have—and should have—said no. If he had wanted to be with Melissa, he could have been honest with me.

It would have been weird, but his betrayal wouldn’t have blindsided me.

After talking to my aunt and Mom, I spoke to the college counselor to see what I needed to do to transfer schools. He basically told me that even though he understood my desire to move, something I made clear was a dire situation, it wasn’t smart. I only had two months before I graduated, and I might not be able to do that if I decided to transfer.

After that conversation, I knew that even if it sucked, I needed to stay put. Which sucked more since I had already told my mom I was moving, and my aunt and I had made plans for me to get down to her.

The good thing was that one of my friends had a room available in the small condo her parents had bought for her and offered it to me.

After sorting out a place to stay, I called my aunt back, told her my new plan, and lived with Hellen for two months as I finished school, ignored Kirk, avoided—or mostly avoided—my mom, and totally avoided her fiancé and his daughter. Then, as soon as I got my walking papers, I got in my car and drove to Florida. I didn’t even take the time to walk across the stage before I left.

So, I’ve been here for a month, have sent off my application to get into the marine veterinary program at the University of Miami, and will hopefully find out soon if I’ll be attending school in the fall. In the meantime, I’m working at the aquarium, which I love.

Even though my heart still hurts because I lost my best friend, and I hate the new rift between my mom and me because I can’t tell her the truth about what happened—and she feels like I abandoned her for no reason—I get to wake up to the gorgeous view out the balcony doors in my bedroom every day and work with all the sea life I’ve been fascinated with since I was little. I also get the joy of being around my aunt, who didn’t have kids of her own but loves me like I’m hers. She has since I was little, and she gave me even more love when my dad—her twin brother—passed away when I was only two.

With that thought, I toss back the blanket covering me and walk to the bathroom. My aunt’s condo in Miami is stunning and seriously spacious. It has three bedrooms, three and a half baths, an office, kitchen, dining room, and two huge balconies—one off the kitchen and living room, and the other off two of the three bedrooms.

My aunt did very well for herself, just like my dad had before he passed away in a car accident. When she was eighteen, my aunt left Sacramento, where she and my dad had grown up with my grandparents and moved to Los Angeles with aspirations of becoming a movie star. She never made it to the big screen, but for twenty-six years, she was on one of those daytime TV shows with all the drama and love triangles. And she had a leading role until the show was canceled when she was in her forties. Now, she does some modeling here and there, which isn’t a surprise since she’s gorgeous.

After brushing my teeth, I leave my bedroom and go to the kitchen, the smell of strong coffee permeating the air. Going right to the pot, I pour myself a cup, dump in some sugar and cream, then grab a bowl for cereal.

“Good morning, my beautiful girl,” Aunt Ileana greets. Her Spanish accent isn’t very thick but it is still noticeable as she drifts into the kitchen, the brightly colored dress she’s wearing floating around her frame. Like always, she looks like she’s ready to step onto the set to perform a scene. Her dark hair is perfectly curled, and her makeup is done to perfection.

“Morning, tu tiá.” I smile as she stops to kiss me on the cheek, probably leaving her red lipstick behind. “Are you excited for your trip?” I ask, dumping cereal into my bowl as she walks over to pour herself a cup of coffee.

“I’m packed.” Her smile is sad. “Are you sure you can’t come with us? It’s not too late.”

“I need to work,” I remind her—and myself, because tagging along with her to Paris, Rome, and London while she works and travels for two months would be magical. And I know from traveling with her in the past that I would have zero regrets.



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