Made for Romeo (Made For #4) Read Online Natasha Madison

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Made For Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 79670 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
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She just stared at me. “But I thought,” she moaned and pouted, and eight months ago before Gabriella, I would have fallen for it and said fuck it. But all I wanted to do was get her out of the fucking house and torch the thing to the ground.

“I’m really sorry,” I said, buttoning my pants back up.

“I won’t say anything,” the girl coaxed me. “We can fuck, and no one has to know.”

All I did was shake my head. “I’ll call you a cab,” I told her as I grabbed my phone. My hands shook when I saw her name still on the lock screen. I pushed it away before I got her an Uber. I looked back over at her and saw she was still sitting there naked. “You should really put your clothes on.”

“Wow.” She got up, her tone pissed as she grabbed her discarded dress off the floor and slipped it back on. “You are such an asshole.” She stormed out of the house, and all I could do was sit down, but the minute I did, I jumped up, thinking of her being on the couch naked. I either had to torch this room or replace all the shit in it.

I rubbed my hands over my face and all I could smell was her cheap perfume, so I turned and rushed upstairs to wash myself of her scent. I took the hottest shower of my life before stepping outside and making sure the woman left. I walked back upstairs and slid into bed, the dread of what I did tonight suddenly hit me, and I knew I’d have to tell Gabriella about it. How the fuck was I going to tell her that I caved under pressure like a schoolboy, instead of an adult who fucking knows better? How the fuck did I put myself in this position? I knew better. My parents raised me better. It was one thing to fuck and go, but a whole other thing when I had Gabriella who I was fucking with. The more I thought about it, the sicker it made me. I was that guy who I fucking hated, and I did it to myself.

I put my head back on the pillow, and for the whole night I thought about how to tell her. I finally got out of bed, looking over and seeing Gabriella left one of her hair ties on the bedside table. She kept leaving them everywhere. I walked down the stairs to go to the kitchen when I spotted the bag at the front door. “What the heck is that?” I asked myself, walking over and slowly opening the bag. My heart sank the minute I saw the treats that were inside. Maple cookies, maple candies, maple syrup, all with the Canadian flag. “No, no, no, no, no,” I chanted as I ran up the stairs and grabbed my phone. I pulled up the text thread we had. She was gone for the past five days to Canada to shoot something for her project, and she said she would bring me treats.

Did you leave this here?

I attached a picture of the bag and sent it. My stomach lurched and I thought I was going to be sick right there in the middle of the hallway. I tried to walk back to the living room but stopped midway when my phone pinged in my hand.

Yes.

I stopped walking and sat on the steps as my heart raced in my chest and my hands shook. “God, please, no.” I sent up a silent prayer, but I knew deep down inside that she was here.

When?

A couple of hours ago.

I closed my eyes when it all came crashing down on me. She found me with that woman. I didn’t bother texting her back. Instead, I called her. She answered after one ring. “Hello.” Her voice was calm and collected. It’s one of the things I loved about her.

The words were all stuck in my throat as I thought about what to say. What could I say? There was nothing I could have said that would make it okay, nothing. “You were here?” is all I said, because nothing else mattered at this point.

I didn’t even realize my eyes were shut while I listened to her answer me. “I was.” The minute I heard those words, I felt like an even bigger piece of shit. It was one thing to tell her what happened, but for her to fucking see it with her own eyes. She saw me and just left with the dignity that only she could have. She didn’t go off the deep end. She didn’t yell or curse or break up half the shit in my house.

I closed my eyes, not sure what else to say but her name, “Gabriella.” I didn’t even know what I was asking her or telling her.


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