The Stand-In – Streamy Shorts Read Online Lena Little

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Insta-Love, Novella Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 16
Estimated words: 14285 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 71(@200wpm)___ 57(@250wpm)___ 48(@300wpm)
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My obsession with Heather Cain runs deep.

I bullied her when we were kids because that was the only way to make her notice me.

Unfortunately, it backfired and only made her hate me. That doesn’t mean I don’t take every opportunity to slip inside her orbit. Maybe annoy Heather as often as I can since I prefer that over her ignoring me.

So when she needs someone to stand in as her date and pretend boyfriend for her grandmother’s birthday party, I volunteer.

She loathes the idea, but left with no other choice unless she wants her twin sister and ex to make fun of her, Heather begrudgingly agrees. In the process, all those years of animosity and tension—mostly from her end—come to a head and morph into something just as intense.

Desire. Blinding lust. Primal needs.

I’ve known Heather all my life, but I should’ve figured out my crazy antics would get us nowhere. Because apparently, there’s only one way to keep her quiet—kiss her like my life depends on it. And after this little charade ends, we’re not going back to the way we were. No!

Once I’ve claimed her—mind, body, and soul—only death will keep us apart.

Or maybe not. Because I sure as hell will follow her anywhere, even in the afterlife.
Heather, baby, you’re stuck with me.
Whether you like it or not.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

BARON

“Iknow, right? I can’t believe it either. Ands, that asshole bailed on me! The nerve, Jesus.” Heather’s voice rises, and she slams a palm against the hardwood high-top table, making the bartender—who’s halfway through wiping the glasses—look up in surprise. “It’s only four days before Mimi’s party. I won’t be surprised if this is Corinne’s doing. She probably spent the past month dancing and chanting in front of her cauldron. Or more realistically, she probably paid him off. That one sounds more like her.”

I don’t hear the voice on the other line, but Heather puts her phone between her ear and shoulder, both hands cupping her glass. “Thanks, Ands. I appreciate it … Yeah, I mean I could go alone, not go at all, or just pay some guy to pretend as my boyfriend.”

Heather lets out a pained laugh. “Why does the world hate me so much?”

My fingers involuntarily grip the edge of my stool. I’m sitting at a table just behind Heather in her favorite upscale bar. She comes here every Wednesday at eight on the dot. She orders the same drink—first, an espresso martini followed by a pina colada—and eats the same food—an Angus beef burger with skinny fries on the side. She spends approximately one hour alone before she leaves in her fire orange Alpine A110, a car she received as her parents’ gift for her 18th birthday.

I don’t like to think of it as stalking because I’ve been doing it for years—going on her socials, asking about her, and maybe even hiring a PI for things I cannot do, like finding out where she is for the holidays or who she’s spending time with for Spring Break. That kind of stuff. Totally normal thing to do for a twenty-seven-year-old man.

Besides, it’s not stalking if it’s with my future wife. It’s more like a ‘getting to know you’ phase, but only one way.

“I think Corinne knows … Well, you know, she sent me a photo last night of her date.” Heather holds the phone with one hand, hangs her head, and runs her fingers through her silky smooth raven-black hair. “It’s Alex.”

The other person, her best friend Andrea and the one she calls Ands, must have yelled since Heather briefly distances herself from her phone before putting it back up by her ear. “Yeah. You know her, she’s always stealing everything from me. Maybe she finds this funny. Her idea of a joke. I wouldn’t put it past her honestly.”

My eyes zero in on Heather’s tense back. She’s wearing a simple black dress with thin shoulder straps. Her hair cascades down her back, ending just above her waist. She’s always had long hair. Well, almost. Except for the time she accidentally leaned against a wall with gum plastered on it. She had to cut it down to her shoulders and came to school with her eyes bloodshot from crying.

Heather gathers her hair to the side, revealing the tattoo along her spine – phases of the moon. I’ve fantasized about trailing my lips along it.

“I’m fine, Ands. I guess … I’ll call you when I get home. Love you. Bye.”

Heather swirls her drink, watching the dim lighting dance through it. More patrons arrive, but she doesn’t seem aware of anything. She’s lost in her own world.

A guy in a suit stops beside her and smiles, but Heather doesn’t even glance up, just waving a hand at him. “Move along. I’m not interested.”

The laughter bursting out of me surprises both of us, and she whips her head to where I’m sitting. Her dark brown eyes narrow, her full lips pursed in a thin line. “Baron Bishop. Just when I thought this day couldn’t get any worse.”



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