No Romeo – Dayton Read Online L.P. Lovell, Stevie J. Cole

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Contemporary, Dark, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: ,
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Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
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I downed the pills, cussing my brother for my throbbing nose, then fell back asleep.

It was past two before I finally dragged my ass into the shower to wash away the smell of pine needles and vodka. And damn, did I struggle with how to approach last night.

Even drunk, I had the memory of an elephant. And I remembered everything I’d said. Everything she’d said. Maybe I should have gotten shitfaced a month ago and poured out my pussy heart. It would have been a month I might have had with her. And I was tired of going without.

She may have fucked up. But so had I. And at the end of the day, that girl’s smile and her love made me feel like the richest man in the whole damn world.

I cut the water and dried off, wrapping the towel around my waist before I went into Lola’s room.

Afternoon sunlight streamed through the threadbare curtains. She glanced up from the book in her lap when the door clicked shut behind me. “Hi…” Her attention drifted from me to the closed door, her brow slowly creasing.

“I guess four orgasms wasn’t enough to make you want to come to my party, huh?” I’d fully expected her to show up, and when she hadn’t… well, shit went south and straight to the bottom of a bottle of cheap vodka.

“Wolf told me not to come.” She shut the book, tossing it to the bed. “Apparently, I have a temper after the Jessica thing. And I guess with strippers and all…”

What the hell did that backstabbing blonde have to do with Lola not coming to my party? “Jessica thing?”

“I smashed her face into a locker yesterday and got suspended.” A slow smile spread over her lips, and that was a shot of Viagra straight to my dick.

I could just imagine her bashing Jessica’s face into the locker like a shoe she was trying to get dried dog shit off of.

Her gaze tracked my hand when I readjusted myself.

God, I was about to fuck the shit out of her because I remembered her saying she loved me, and these were the last seconds of her life she’d have where she thought she wasn’t mine.

“But I got you a card.” She nodded to the dresser. “I was going to give it to you yesterday…”

My attention drifted to the bright-yellow envelope propped against the mirror, my name written in her familiar, bubbly handwriting. I’d fuck her in a minute.

I tucked the corner of the towel, tightening it on my waist as I reached for the card and opened it. The front had a sloth—penned-in stitches on its neck—wearing a party hat. Have a slothtastic day! When I opened it, a brown friendship bracelet fell to the carpet.

I bent over to pick it up, reading over the inside. No sweet message like every other card she’d given me. Just XX –Lola.

“It’s shit-brown because I hated you three days ago,” she said. “But then you fixed Sid and gave me four orgasms, and now I feel kind of bad.”

At least the four-orgasm thing got me a friendship bracelet. I stared at the braided thread, remembering every single time she’d given me one of these things. She always tied them on my wrist, and after we’d started dating, she’d tell me it wasn’t a friendship bracelet but a love bracelet. Now, she’d put it in a card.

Sighing, I tossed the bracelet to the crumpled bedsheets. “This is some real bullshit…”

Her face fell a little when she picked it up. “I can make you a better one…”

“I don’t want a better one. I like shit brown.” I stepped toward the bed, stopping at the edge. “I just don’t like the way you did it this year.”

She narrowed her eyes at me.

“You put it in an envelope.” I sank to the mattress beside her, then held out my arm full of her other bracelets. “I want shit to go back to the way it was.”

She looped it around my wrist, refusing to look at me when she tied the knot. “Can it go back?”

How could it not? We’d been toeing this line since the second we had seen each other. I was miserable without her.

I placed a finger underneath her chin, tilting up her head. “You told me you loved me last night. That you hadn’t been with anyone since you left…”

“I do, and I haven’t.” Her gaze held mine. “But could you ever forgive me?”

I’d spent the past two years telling myself forgiveness was the last thing I would ever give her. But in reality, I was a hell of a lot more broken without her.

It was one mistake. We had too much to lose–she was too damn much to lose and so much more important than my stupid ego.

“I already have.” My thumb swept over her jaw. “You mean too much for me not to.”



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