Compassion – The Extended (The Compassion #1) Read Online Xavier Neal

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Compassion Series by Xavier Neal
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Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
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“I do the best I can to care for myself in spite of my circumstances.”

“I’ll say…”

Her teeth hungrily nip at her bottom lip pushing me to get her out of the room before I’m the one doing the biting. “Did you need something?”

Jaye lazily drags her stare back to mine causing my face to slightly heat in embarrassment.

Fuck, I haven’t been stared at this hard and this needy since I was on active duty.

She sweetly hums her question, “Hm?”

Realizing she didn’t hear what I said has me cockily smirking at the same time I repeat, “Did you need something, sweetheart?”

“Sweetheart,” she quietly swoons, “I like that.” Her grin grows ground shakingly powerful. “I like that way more than Little Jaye Jenkins.” The declaration receives a nod of acknowledgement prompting her to return to our reality versus whatever reverie she was just in. “Why am I here?” She doesn’t wait for answer from me. “Right!” A rapid headshake seems to plant her back on mentally firm ground. “Clothes.”

“The thing I’m not currently wearing.”

“Yes.” Her smile softens, and there’s no stopping my heart from following. “And I got to thinking that maybe since you were in need of a shower – not that I thought you smelled or anything – that your clothes might be in need of one too – they definitely smell – and so I went ahead and took the liberty of sneaking them out of here to toss them into the wash.”

“So, you came to tell me I’m having dinner in a towel?”

Or naked? Maybe she wants me to be naked while she eats? Is that weird? I haven’t been this…close or cordial to another person in months. Pretty sure that would be a strange, run for the hills, request, right?

“No, no, no,” she rushes to deny, face reddening in a way I find myself enjoying, “I brought you pajamas! Well, sort of. It’s a jersey cotton robe and matching pants – both never worn. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to sleep topless-”

“Topless?”

“Er,” Jaye flashes me her infamous cringe, “shirtless. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to sleep shirtless or not, so I didn’t bring one, but I can go back and grab you one if you need me to.” She pushes the folded pile of clothing towards me. “And I also brought you a toothbrush. For tonight before bed or in the morning when you wake up or both. Brushing your teeth is super important at least once a day according to the dentist I avoid because I swear he looks down my top and the Just Going to the Dentist kid’s book by Mercer Mayer I just picked for dental awareness month which is coming up soonish.” Her string of sentences I’m not sure she took a breath between are suddenly followed by a heavy sigh. “Sorry. I don’t know why I do that. I don’t know why I just talk and talk and talk and don’t seem to be able to shut up around you.”

All previous feelings of flattery pale in comparison to these new ones.

So…it’s…just me she does this for? That makes me…special, doesn’t it?

My mouth mumbles unapproved words before my brain can conjure proper ones. “I don’t want you to shut up around me.”

Relief and excitement simultaneously pierce her stare.

Alright. Maybe those words weren’t so bad.

Transferring the objects into my possession is done at the same time I inquire, “Not to sound ungrateful, but where’d these ‘never worn before clothes' come from?”

“They were Chris’s.”

“The dead fiancé?”

My callousness doesn’t seem to deter her from answering. “Yeah. He um…he really only liked silk pajamas when he wore pajamas to bed with me – and that’s not a because he liked to sleep naked thing, that’s a we rarely slept in the same bed thing – but I stupidly thought that maybe if we got a matching pair that he might try them. You know…humor me?” She shakes her head in a sad nature. “He didn’t. He didn’t even pretend to appreciate the thought of the gift I was so excited to give that Christmas.”

Prick.

“I wear mine all the time – they’re so fucking comfy – but um his…” her hands slip into the back pockets of black dress pants, “his have just been sitting in the back of the closet, waiting for me to grow the courage to give them away to someone who might actually appreciate them.”

“I do appreciate them.”

The hint of a smile appears.

“You.”

It slowly stretches from ear to ear.

“I just hope you know that I can’t and won’t be him.”

“I don’t want that shit, either.”

Her response catches me completely off guard, yet her prompt exit afterward doesn’t.

Would you stop calling me a dick already? No, I wouldn’t prefer asshole. I just…thought that shit needed to be said instead of simply inferred. The last thing I need is her trying to slyly puppet me into being his replacement. I’m not looking to play pretend I’m the dead dude you’re probably not over. To be brutally fucking honest, I’m not looking for anything. Friendship included. I don’t think I could live with myself if I lost another one.


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