Only One Chance (Only One #2) Read Online Natasha Madison

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Only One Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 81745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
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“I was going to thank Dr. Rudy for letting me stay,” I tell him as we walk to the elevator. The blonde is still looking at us.

“You can thank him next time you come,” he says. We get into the elevator, and I stand as far away from him as I can.

“That was really amazing,” I say, and he smiles. “Have you been doing it long?”

“I’ve been coming here for about four years. I came with the guys once, and then I forgot something and came back, and well …” He shrugs and smiles. “I love it. It’s hands down the best feeling in the world to come in and be a little bit of light for them.”

Goddammit, I yell at myself when he says that. I walk out of the elevator and to the car, and I get in when he opens the door for me. “Thank you,” I tell him, and he just looks at me as though he is trying to figure out something.

He gets in the car and looks over at me. “Want to go and get something to eat?” he asks, and I shake my head.

“Not really,” I say. “If you can just drop me off at my car, I have a couple of things to do today.”

He just nods and starts the car. I look out the window the whole time. My emotions are so up and down I can’t even begin to explain them. He pulls into the parking lot of the coffee shop.

“Thank you for sharing today with me,” I tell him when I reach for the door handle. “It was hands down the best day I’ve had in a long time.”

He smiles at me. “Anytime, gorgeous.” He says my nickname, and I want to cringe. I also make the mistake of thinking about how many other people might have had that nickname.

“Take care, Miller,” I say, getting out of the car and walking to mine. I ignore the beating of my heart in my chest and the stinging in my eyes. I ignore the anger while I make my way home. I ignore it all, burying it deep inside me. I unlock the door and slam it shut, and only then do I let my shoulders slump. I’m not in the house for longer than a minute when the doorbell rings.

I open the door, expecting it to be anyone else but him. “Miller?” I say his name in almost a whisper.

“What exactly is going on right now?” he asks me, walking into the house, and I close the door softly. “We were having the best day. And then. It’s like a switch went off, and I just don’t understand it.”

“It’s nothing,” I tell him, and he just stands there with his hands on his hips.

“At least be honest with me.” His eyes look at me like they dare me to say something.

“Be honest with you?” I laugh now, and he looks at me, shocked at the way it came out.

“Okay, you want me to be honest with you,” I say. “Here it is. I don’t know what goes on in your head sometimes,” I tell him, and I don’t give him a chance to even answer it. “I finally came to the conclusion that I liked you.” His eyes light up. “Oh, don’t celebrate just yet. So I decided that I like you, and maybe we can be friends.”

“I don’t want to be friends with you,” he says, and it’s now my turn to stare at him. “After all this time, you have to know that friendship is not what I want from you.”

“Well, it’s about the only thing that you are going to get from me,” I tell him.

“Why?” he asks.

“Why?” I counter him. “Why? Seriously. I can’t take the two sides to Miller,” I tell him, my voice rising a bit. “I’m with this funny Miller, who makes me laugh and cooks me dinner and is considerate and kind.”

“That’s me.” He points at himself proudly.

“And then there is the idiot Miller, who takes me out and flirts with girls right in front of my face. Who has the audacity to just straight-up disrespect me to my face.” His face falls. “Yeah, that’s also you.”

“But that isn’t the real me,” he tells me. “The guy in my house is the real me. The guy at coffee shop is the real me. The guy reading to those kids? That is the real me.” He shakes his head. “That other guy, he’s the hockey player.”

“You got at least one thing right; he’s the player.” He rolls his eyes. “What would you say if we went out, and you saw me with a male fan of the show, and I hug him and call him honey?” His eyes glare at me. “If I let him put his arm around my shoulder and walk away while we have a conversation together, letting you watch.”



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