Truly Madly Deeply (Forbidden Love #1) Read Online L.J. Shen

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Forbidden Tags Authors: Series: Forbidden Love Series by L.J. Shen
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 153268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 766(@200wpm)___ 613(@250wpm)___ 511(@300wpm)
<<<<109119127128129130131139149>160
Advertisement


“Stay, hot-ass?”

She gave me a chiding look.

I groaned. “Stay, please?”

She nodded, squeezing my hand in hers. “Until you’re sick and tired of me.”

Don’t hold your breath.

I wasn’t falling in love. I was galloping straight into a heartbreak for the goddamn books. Because Cal was no longer an abstract idea. Something unattainable and faraway. This time, I knew what she tasted like, how it felt to have her lips flutter over my skin when she laughed. What it was like to fall asleep with my nose buried in her hair. How she tightened and spasmed around me when she came all over my cock.

I was addicted to her scent, to her hugs, to the way her whole face opened up with delight that first fraction of a second when she saw something she liked. She was my Roman Empire.

“Right.” The doctor looked around the room, probably confused as to how my grumpy ass had so many people who cared about him. “So, if everyone else can just…”

“Fuck off?” I offered.

“Wait.” Cal leaned into my face, biting down on a grin. “Are you sure you want me to stay?”

Forever. “Never been more positive.”

“Negativity is the ongoing theme in his life,” Rhyland chipped in. Dylan grunted.

“Can I ask…why?” Cal’s big eyes blinked imploringly.

“Because you’re…” I was trying to think of the right word.

Familiar?

Comforting?

Easy to talk to?

“Home.”

“Ohhhh,” Dylan moaned again, this time clutching her pearls. “Shit.”

“I’m a grown-ass man,” I barked at her from behind Cal’s shoulder. “Shut up and let m—”

“No!” Dylan stood up, and when she did, it sounded like a water balloon burst against the floor, and her dress was all wet. “My water just broke.”

CAL

“Friday I’m in Love”—The Cure

I was a little worried when Zeta commanded me to stay with Row while she headed upstairs to the maternity ward with Dylan. But I’d also been dying to get some alone time with him ever since I saw him collapse on the sidewalk in a puddle of his own blood earlier today.

He wanted me to stay. And I had a feeling he wasn’t just referring to the hospital room. We were holding hands; his breathing was shallow and flat, making my own pulse thump out of rhythm with anxiety.

“You dodged a bullet with that stab wound.” The doctor chuckled at his own joke. “No puns intended, yeah?”

Row offered him an expressionless glare.

The doctor continued, “It was half an inch away from puncturing your intestines. Could you imagine?”

“I’d rather not,” Row deadpanned, unimpressed with his caretaker’s bedside manner.

“You could’ve died a slow, painful death,” Dr. Gorga said cheerfully. “But you didn’t. You’re going to be just fine.”

“You’re also going to be heard.” I flipped my phone screen, angling it in Row’s direction. “Taylor just texted. Sheriff Menchin should be here in the next hour. Seems like he is taking the threats against you seriously this time.”

“And to think all he needed was an assassination attempt to wake up,” Row drawled out.

I rubbed his bicep, not letting his grumpiness rub off on my sunshine. “Better late than never.”

“Not hanging my hopes and dreams on this clown.” He brought the jug of ice water to his lips. “So. Dot. What have you been up to while I was out?”

“Oh. You know. This and that.” By this and that I meant freaking out about the possibility of losing him and chasing whatever leads I had to figure out who had done this to him.

Row’s injury devastated me more than I cared to admit. In fact, it cemented that my worst fear had come true—I had strong, all-consuming feelings for Ambrose Casablancas. The kind that put my heart at risk. The kind that didn’t go hand-in-hand with my promise to myself not to let anyone in.

“Articulate it to me.” He fought a smile. “Using lots of words and analogies. I want the whole Cal flare.”

Swiping my tongue over my lips, I considered how much to tell him. “Well, you were lying here, looking very pretty but also very boring, so I sang you some songs, mostly The Cure’s stuff, because I think that’s about the only band we have in common. A nurse brought over your dinner, and it had trail mix, and I remember you hated raisins, so I removed them from the mix. I also readjusted your pillows. And filed your nails. And…fine, painted them black. Because it is so your color. Is that creepy? It sounds creepy now that I’m saying it out loud. I swear it wasn’t. I thought it’d bring a smile to your lips when you woke up.”

Now he did laugh, then groaned and clutched his side, where he’d been stabbed.

This was the part where I’d usually feel weird and awkward. Foreign in my own skin. But all I felt was…seen. It made me feel invincible. His gaze alone made me feel like the person I’d always wanted to be.



<<<<109119127128129130131139149>160

Advertisement