Tell Me a Story Read Online Kaylee Ryan

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89658 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
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When my alarm blares at the ass crack of dawn, I reach for her, only to grip cold sheets. Flopping back on the bed, I cover my eyes with my arm and curse the universe. I know she was here. My sheets still smell like her. What I wouldn’t give to wake up next to her. I’d snuggle the hell out of her until the very last second.

Like a movie reel, our future plays out in my mind, and I can’t wait to have that exact scenario happen every single day. Joey is my future, and last night I told her as much. My confession of love didn’t come lightly. When she said them back, that sealed our fate—sealed our forever.

Tossing off the covers, I move to sit on the edge of the bed when a piece of paper on the floor catches my attention. My heart literally skips a fucking beat in hopes it’s what I think it is. Standing, I retrieve the piece of paper, and I’m not disappointed.

Once upon a time, there was a girl. Her entire life, she’s felt as though she didn’t really belong. Being born out of wedlock as the result of an affair, she always felt… misplaced. That is until the girl met a man. A man who changed her life in ways she never knew were possible. This man, he puts her first. He shows her with not only his words but his actions what she means to him. Another first for her, the bone-deep love she feels for him. She knows without a shadow of a doubt that he is the love of her life.

To be continued…

Opening the bottom drawer of my nightstand, I shove the letter into the small box that sits underneath a few T-shirts to hide it from Caleb. Not that he would ever snoop, but better safe than sorry. Standing, I head to the door. I need to see her. I need to tell her that I feel her words. Bone-deep, as she put it. All the way to my fucking soul I feel them.

Opening the door, I hear voices downstairs. “Shit,” I mutter. Resting my forehead against the doorframe, I listen to Joey and Caleb as they talk downstairs. Her laughter floats up the stairs and wraps its way around my heart. As if she needed one more string to tie herself to me. We have to tell him. Soon.

Stepping back into my room, I close the door and head to the shower. Not ten minutes later, my feet are pounding down the stairs to join them in the kitchen. Joey has her back to me as she stands in front of the coffee pot. I don’t stop until I’m standing beside her, our elbows rubbing as I reach for a coffee cup.

“Morning,” she says, her voice still raspy from sleep.

“Good morning, Sunshine.” Her eyes widen at my chipper mood, but she doesn’t comment. Instead, she makes her way to the table and takes a seat.

“Eggs and toast,” Caleb says, pointing at a plate that I assume is made for me.

“Thanks,” I say, grabbing the plate and going to sit across from Joey at the table, with Caleb trailing behind, his plate now empty, left on the island, and his cup of coffee in his hand.

“What’s got you so chipper?” he asks, taking the seat next to Joey.

“No reason,” I reply, shoving a huge bite of eggs into my mouth.

“You sneak a girl in your room last night or something?” Caleb chuckles.

I know it’s meant to be a joke, but I choke on my eggs and take a scalding hot sip of my coffee to wash it down. “No.” It’s a simple one-word reply, but my tone tells him to drop it.

“Well, something’s got you in a sunshiny mood today.”

This time it’s Joey who chokes on her food, and I flash a worried glance toward Caleb. He’s watching Joey, concern lacing his features. “You good?” he asks her.

“Yes.” She nods. “Eating too fast, I guess.” Caleb nods, accepting her excuse, not the least bit suspicious that we both choked on our food in a matter of moments.

“Eat up. We need to head out,” Caleb tells me.

“Go on without me. I’ll be right behind you.”

“You sure?” he asks.

“Yeah. I still have to run upstairs and grab my bag. I’m going to finish this without choking and killing myself, and I’ll be right behind you.”

“All right.” He leans across the table and offers me his fist, and I don’t leave him hanging. He stands and kisses the top of Joey’s head. “Later, sis,” he mumbles, before placing his cup in the sink, grabbing his phone, keys, and bag from the floor, and waves over his shoulder before he’s out the door.

“We have to tell him.” I say.

“I know.”

“The longer we wait, the worse it’s going to be.”



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