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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“I thought we could make shrimp pasta.” He looks over at me, and then he stops walking. “Shit, do you still like that?”

Worry fills his face, and I hold up my hand to grab his arm. “I still like that,” I reassure him as I walk into the kitchen ahead of him to grab a vase before he puts the bags on the counter.

“This feels like déjà vu.” The words come out of my mouth before I can stop them.

“We’re in the matrix,” he repeats the joke he used to say all those days ago.

I put the flowers down on the counter and look at him. “This is a little weird for me,” I admit, and he just waits for me to finish talking. “Like this pretending not to know each other for one is weird because, well, we’ve seen each other naked.” He chuckles, and his eyes light up in the soft green I love.

“More than once,” he teases me.

“Like you walked in, and you kissed me,” I say, and the smile falls from his face.

“Was that too much?” he asks, running his hands through his hair.

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “That’s the thing. I wanted to hug you.” I look down, not sure if I sound silly or not, but knowing I had to tell him.

“So get over here,” he invites, holding out his arms, and I shush him away with my hand.

“It’s like we are walking on eggshells,” I finally say.

“Gabriella,” he says my name softly, “it’s you and me.” My heart speeds up. “It’s always just been you and me.”

“Just with a little break in the middle.” I try to make light of the situation, and I can see in his eyes it bothers him. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be.” He avoids looking at me, and now I feel like the asshole.

“I said I would give you another chance.” I take the steps toward him, closing the distance. “And that means we leave whatever it is in the past.” I stand next to him, and he looks at me. I wrap my arms around his waist like I always used to.

“Do you have the recipe?” I ask. He nods, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and leaning down to kiss the top of my head.

Side by side, we start to prepare the meal. “Let’s catch up,” he suggests to me as we take the shells off the shrimp.

“Ohhh, twenty questions.” I wink at him. “This is better than never have I ever.” He laughs. “You first.”

“Okay,” he agrees, not making eye contact with me when he asks the question. “Did you really sleep with someone after me?” Damn, talk about not beating around the bush, I think to myself.

I avoid looking at him with this question, my hands busy working on the shrimp. “Yes,” I reply, looking over at him. I see he closes his eyes, and my stomach sinks for just a second before I get pissed.

“How many girls have you slept with since me?” I ask, my voice coming out harder than I want it to.

He puts the shrimp down in the bowl and looks up at me. “Zero. Not before, not after,” he answers, and I want to tell him that he’s fucking lying, but he’s never lied to me before, never. “I may have cheated on you by bringing a woman home and having her naked on me, but just so you know,” he declares, his eyes making sure I’m looking into his, “I never fucked her.”

I gasp. “I was there,” I remind him, walking over to the sink and washing my hands off. “I saw it with my own eyes.”

“You were there,” he says calmly while I’m ready to bounce around the room with the pent-up rage in me. “And she was there, but I pushed her away from me right before you texted me.” My stomach that was a ball of nerves two seconds ago is now feeling like it’s sunk to the bottom of my feet. He avoids looking at me. “So I cheated on you by kissing her and letting her touch me. But it stopped the minute she touched my dick.”

“Excuse me.” I rush out of the room and go straight to the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. My chest rises and falls as if I just went running outside. I put my head back against the door, and I swear I can hear his words again clear as day, I never fucked her. “Motherfucker,” I hiss, pissed, then I hear a knock on the door. I should calm down before I rip it open, but I don’t. “I need a minute,” I tell him as he stands there looking so fucking hot it should be illegal.

“I gave you a minute,” he says, and I glare at him.


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