Damaged Goods (All Saints High #4) Read Online L.J. Shen

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, New Adult, Sports Tags Authors: Series: All Saints High Series by L.J. Shen
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Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 137433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 550(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
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We get to the woods. I park. We drink our slushies on our hammock. Silently. Time is running out. So is my patience. My pulse hammers against my neck.

Bailey is telling me proudly how she kept all of her notebooks and cheat sheets from senior year so I can use them—we both take a gazillion APs for credits—when I decide to go for it. There’s no right or wrong way to confess your everlasting love to someone you’ve known since before you were potty-trained.

“I have something to tell you.”

She puckers her cherry lips in confusion. “This is not about how you want to drop out of Human Geography, right? Levy, you need it for your Air Force Academy applica—”

“I love you.”

Silence.

Bird chirp.

A river rippling in the background.

Her face splits into a smile, and for a second, I’m so happy I can’t breathe.

Then she pats my shoulder and says, “I love you too, you silly goose! Goodbyes are so hard, but I’ll be here every holiday. And if you ever have a question about how I do your laundry—”

Great. Laundry talk when I’m trying to be the man of her dreams. That’s going well.

“Right. No. Take two.” I shake my head. “I’m in love with you.” Then, to bring the point home, I artfully add, “Like, I love you as a person, as my best friend, as my soul mate. But also, I wanna suck your tongue. And shove my dick into you.” Pause. “Basically.” Pause. “Obviously, when you’re ready. If you’re ready. At some point in the near…or far…future.”

Yeah, that’s not going down as the smoothest love confession on planet earth, but it came straight from the heart.

In my defense, I never had to talk my way into the fairer sex’s good graces.

Girls usually throw themselves at me. Not a week goes by without a half-naked girl ambushing me in the locker room, lab, or at a party.

Unfortunately for everyone concerned, I’m Bailsexual. Meaning I don’t find girls or guys attractive. Just Dove. Which significantly narrows down my hookup options.

She blinks rapidly. “I…Lev, thank you.”

Thank you? Oh, fuck. Thank you is the opposite of what I wanted to hear.

I was hoping for I love you too but would’ve settled for I, too, want your dick shoved inside me.

“You’re welcome.” I sprawl back on the canvas, dying from the inside. “Now put me out of my misery and tell me what it means for us?”

Bailey tucks her sunshine hair behind her slightly pointed ears—and yes, it is the most adorable thing ever, hands-down—scratching the pink nail polish off her toenails distractedly.

She looks anguished. “I love you. So much it’s hard to breathe sometimes. But…I think you’re just confused. You look at me like a mom, like a sister. You always have.”

I arch one eyebrow, refraining from reminding her about The Night We Don’t Talk About, when she did very unsisterly things to me. Unless you’re from West Virginia.

“Okay, not like a brother-brother.” She rolls her eyes, pinking. “But I made a promise to Rosie to always be there for you, and I can hardly keep it if I go off to college and one of us cheats on the other and we have to break up.”

That is the dumbest excuse I’ve ever heard in my entire life why not to be with someone.

“That person isn’t going to be me, so unless you’re planning to arabesque in someone else’s bunk bed, I don’t see the problem.” I feel my nostrils flare. “Plus, in the last few months, there’s not much left of our friendship, wouldn’t you agree?”

She rubs her face, looking tired and frustrated, and this is not at all how I hoped this would go down.

We were supposed to be dry-humping at this point. Her nipple was supposed to be in my mouth for God’s sake.

“Look, it doesn’t matter how we feel. Our families view us as siblings. They treat us like we’re twins or something.” She squirms.

“Fuck our families,” I raise my voice, then add, “Not literally. We aren’t blood-related in any way. Our parents are friends and we’re neighbors. This is stupid.”

“Lev, I’ve been taking care of you ever since you were a baby.” Her tone is begging now.

I can’t force her to be with me. She looks as shattered as I feel, shrinking on the dirty canvas of our forest fort, and I’m torn between pressing her for a real answer and giving her some mercy.

She grabs my hands and we’re both so cold even though it’s summer. “I tended to your wounds, dried your tears, slept in your bed. If we get together and you change your mind…if you wake up one day and decide you don’t want me anymore…”

“I won’t.”

“You feel that way now. But I told Rosie—”

“Don’t bring Mom into this. If she knew how I felt about you, she’d want us together.”


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