Made For Us (Made For #3) Read Online Natasha Madison

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: Made For Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82163 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
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“Who asked you?” I look at her while getting up.

“Well, I felt sorry for you talking to yourself so I figured I would help you out.” She folds her arms over her chest. “You’re welcome. Now go declare your love to him.”

“I don’t know why I tell you anything,” I grumble, grabbing my bag.

“I would tell you to be safe.” She snickers. “But it’s way too late for that.”

“Don’t think I forgot about our fight. You will have to tell me what happened in LA one of these days.” I don’t wait for her to answer. Instead, I just slam the door shut. Pulling open the car door, I sit inside and press the red button. I turn the air-conditioning on right away before I buckle myself in. “It’s going to be fine,” I reassure myself. “It’s going to be like, ‘am I the baby daddy’? I’m going to say yes, and then it’ll be over.”

I take my time driving over there, even making sure I go under the speed limit. When I pull up to his house, I park on the street. “This is a good idea.” I look at the light at the front door. “This way, I can leave whenever I want.” I grab my bag, getting out of the car and closing the door.

I don’t think I could be more nervous, and the more I keep pretending I’m not, the sicker I feel. I walk up the driveway, making sure I don’t trip over my feet. Stepping up the one step, I reach the door. I lift my hand, and I'm about to ring when I remember he told me that Penelope was sleeping. Instead of ringing, I bring my hand up and softly knock on the black door. My stomach lurches up and then down again, as if it is doing the wave, and my neck starts to get warm with nerves. I listen to hear if maybe I’ll hear footsteps, but I don’t hear anything. “I can just say I came, and he wasn’t home,” I mumble to myself.

I’m about to turn around and do just that when the door opens, and he stands there wearing shorts and a T-shirt. His hair looks like it’s wet from the shower. “Sorry I didn’t hear you ring.” His tone is different than I’ve ever heard before. It’s curt and tight, making my nerves kick up even more.

My stomach now fills with flutters. All the words are stuck in my throat as I just stare at him. I clear my throat. “I didn’t ring,” I say softly, “I was afraid to wake Penelope.”

He moves aside. “Come in.” His hand is still on the door. I take a step up into his house, the smell of him floating all around me. “Where do you want to do this?”

In your bed? On the couch? Against the door? “Wherever you like,” I finally say. “If it’s not too much trouble, can I have some water?” I ask him, and all he does is nod at me and everything inside me shifts.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

TRISTAN

“Wherever you like,” she finally says, and I can see her gripping the purse in her hand so tight that her knuckles are white. “If it’s not too much trouble, can I have some water?” All I can do is nod at her. I’m so afraid I’m going to snap. The whole time I’ve been trying to calm myself down, telling myself that it’s not what I think. But then the only thing that kept going over and over in my head is she didn’t tell me.

“We can talk in the family room,” I suggest to her as we walk from the front room, past the stairs, and into the family room attached to the kitchen. “Have a seat, I’ll get you water.” I walk to the kitchen and turn around mid-step. “Do you want juice instead?”

She looks over at me, and fuck, if she doesn’t always take my breath away. “No, I’m good with just water.” She stands there in the middle of the room, she doesn’t move. I want to tell her to make herself at home, but the anger in me stops me.

I grab the bottle of water from the fridge and then walk to her, handing it to her. I make sure I don’t touch her because I know that one touch will change everything. She’ll touch me and I’ll forget it all. Instead, I walk to the couch and, sure enough, she follows me.

I sit on one side of the couch that faces the other side and she sits down at the corner of the seat. This is so much different than how I thought it would be. I somehow always pictured her here with me, but the situation was different. “Should we start?” I ask as she takes a sip of water, and I can see her hands shake. She’s a nervous fucking wreck, and if I had my head on straight, I would keep that in mind, but I’m just as fucking nervous.


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