Never Say Yes To Your Boss (I Said Yes #1) Read Online Lindsey Hart

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Funny Tags Authors: Series: I Said Yes Series by Lindsey Hart
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Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
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“I want to be normal for you, to be a better man for you. I want my brain and shoulder fixed, even if you’re willing to take me as I am. I want to do good things because that would make the world better for everyone, but mostly, I’d be doing it for you. I want to know about your life and what you like. I want more sandwiches with you, more late-night kitchen visits with you, more rug burns with you, and more devil cats with you. I like your family, and I like you. Maybe this wasn’t supposed to go that way, but that’s where I’m at, and that’s entirely the truth.”

The sick feeling settles into my gut and leaches into my bones. I feel heavy, though not like a panic attack kind of heavy. Just…bad, so I sink back down on the bed.

I think it must show because Everleigh doesn’t tell me to go to hell. She doesn’t give me the double birds, just one bird, or even so much as a sarcastic hair toss. Instead, she very slowly crosses over to the bed and kneels at my feet. I have my elbows on my knees, and I’m pressing my fingers against my closed eyes because that seems to help the pounding in my head. Her small hands land on my knees, palms down. She cups my kneecaps, and I had no idea something like that could feel so good or shred me to my soul.

“I’m sorry.” She bows her head and kisses my right knee. “I’m freaking out, and I’m sorry. I’m taking things that aren’t your fault out on you. We just had this great sex, and then what you said felt like an immediate rejection.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have started off with that. I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not, and you’re also right. I do want to go and see my family. I want to spend time with them. But I think if you truly don’t want me to leave, I can plan to go after your surgery or before it and also be here for you. Even if you just need someone to tell you that you look like you’re drowning in the pool, to make you sandwiches, to snuggle with and watch movies in bed, or just to talk or whatever. I’ll make it work. Unless—”

“There is no unless. I want that. I want you here.” I let my hands fall to her shoulders, and I pull her up off her knees. I set her on mine instead, and she throws her arms around my neck and hangs on. She smells like sunlight, not so early mornings, my sheets, my bed, herself, and me, and I love inhaling all that. My heart physically aches at her proximity, but not in a bad way.

“I know I’ve had you for your money already,” she murmurs and sniffles into my neck, and fuck, she’s crying, and I don’t want her to cry, but she doesn’t sound sad exactly, so maybe she’s okay. Ugh, I’m total shit with this. “But I’d like to have you for more than that. Just as you.”

“Well, just as me might not be so great because, as you can see, I seem to be quite a numbskull when it comes to knowing how to navigate this.”

“Considering how mad I got when you were just trying to care about me, I’d say we’re equally matched.”

She finally backs up, and the sight of her tearstained cheeks with those silvery gold tracks and the sunlight spilling over her whole face and glistening eyes, the almost smile on her lips, her mussed hair, and her body, which is still almost sleep warm, makes me dizzy. Something special wraps around me—a feeling of peace I haven’t had for a long time, except when I’m with Everleigh.

What would it be like to trust in another person? To put your life into their hands, to even want to think about doing that, and to want to do a lot of stuff together.

I don’t know, but I want to find out. I want to find out if we can make contracts and arranged marriages and romance, loving grandmas aside.

“Everleigh, I’d like to ask you out on a date,” I announce solemnly. The effect of my seriousness is probably lost because I’m also fresh from sleep myself and sitting here in boxers on the rumpled bed. Maybe that’s what makes her eyes shine when she looks at me—the unguarded, wholesome truthfulness of the moment. “And I’d like there to be other dates after. Proper ones. Here, or somewhere else. I’d also like to visit your family. Yes, even if I have to be sedated or partially sedated to get there. I’m going to keep working on it, though. I’ve got some books to read and some videos to watch, and maybe I’ll even break down and talk to someone. But not to fix my head,” I say before she can cut in and tell me I don’t need to do that. “Just to help with the panic, control it, and keep it to a manageable level. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to ride in a vehicle without freaking out, but maybe one day. And that would open up a lot of possibilities.”


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