Sweet Treats Read Online Alexa Riley

Categories Genre: Dark, Insta-Love, Novella, Romance, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 14
Estimated words: 12327 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 62(@200wpm)___ 49(@250wpm)___ 41(@300wpm)
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I shake my head, seeing the name. “That won’t be necessary, Joshua. Thank you. Say hello to Sandy for me. Have a nice night.”

“Will do. You as well, sir.”

I’m sure Joshua knows what I’m up to. Since Charity moved in, I’ve been checking security regularly, along with any visitors that might be entering. So far, she’s only had a couple of food deliveries, which Joshua was kind enough to intercept and deliver personally. He received a hefty bonus for his efforts and plans to take his wife to Hawaii for their anniversary. Worth every penny.

I step onto the elevator, and as much as I want to go to her floor, I don’t. I hit the button for mine and take it all the way up. When I get inside, I go to my office and check the feed. Joshua isn’t aware that I have my own cameras in place, and I click back through until I find the spot at which she enters. I watch as she and her co-worker get on the elevator, then I flip to the next camera outside her door to watch her make it inside safely. I had to fight myself from sneaking cameras inside, because I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to control myself if I saw much more.

After I watch the tape three more times, I go over to the couch in my office and stretch out. I smile to myself, thinking that this time tomorrow, I’ll be alone with her, and then she’ll have no choice but to fall in love with me.

All I need is a moment alone, then she’ll see what I do. She’ll feel the undeniable force pulling us together, and then we can stop pretending. Charity Treat is going to know that there is no world without me, just as I have no world without her.

THREE

CHARITY

“I still can’t get over this place,” Apple says as she takes another sip from her wine glass.

We’re already well into the second bottle we picked up on the way back to my place, and the takeout containers are long empty. My whole body is buzzing at this point, making me feel warm. Some of my fears about tomorrow drop away for a moment.

I look around the condo and couldn’t agree more with her. This whole building is amazing, and it’s going to suck when I have to leave it. I know I’ll never again be able to afford something as beautiful as this on a teacher’s salary, but I’d never give up teaching to live somewhere fancy. That doesn’t mean I won’t enjoy this place while it lasts. It’s a taste of a life I never thought I could experience.

I grew up in foster care after losing my grandmother, who raised me. I was ten years old when she passed, and she was all I ever had. I remember my mother stopping by here and there when I was little, but it’s more a blur, and I often wonder if the memories are real. They didn’t hurt, but can something really hurt you if you didn’t know it? I don’t remember missing her or thinking she’d come back to get me when my grandma died. In fact, I never really thought of her at all.

Losing my grandma was hard. She wasn’t the most nurturing, but she was always there for me. I got lucky, though—crazy lucky, in fact—when I landed in the foster system and went to live with Aunt K and Uncle C as we all called them.

Two retired married teachers who could never have children of their own. They always had at least six children in their care. When one left, another would come to live with us. They were wonderful to all of us. And while they were loving, they were also realistic with us.

They gave us the tools to succeed in life. Every night when we got home from school, we had dinner together. Then we went back to studying after a little playtime. They told us the only way to get somewhere in life is to work hard. They were determined all of us would not only get into college, but would get scholarships to help us as well.

But even with all the studying, there was still time for laughter and some love. Even though I haven’t seen some of my foster brothers and sisters in a long time, we still send emails and call. Others got busy with life, but we understood there would always be a bond that held us together.

I felt like every time someone left the nest, it sent them far away from the home Aunt K and Uncle C had made for us. Though it was a nice place and I know they loved us, it was never really our home. It was a holding place. A safe place that taught and prepared us for the world, and I’d always be grateful to them. Grateful for what they gave us and how they opened their home to all of us.



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