Shame Me Not Read Online Fiona Cole

Categories Genre: Angst, BDSM, College, Erotic, New Adult, Romance, Young Adult Tags Authors:
Advertisement1

Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
<<<<576775767778798797>124
Advertisement2


“Anytime.”

“Oooo,” Katelyn said, looking at her phone. “I just saw on Facebook that there’s a new bar and grill opening next week called Mulligan’s.”

“I heard about that. It’s supposed to be really good,” Andrew said, moving his hand to her shoulder with light circles. Dick.

“We should all go together,” Katelyn said.

My head swiveled to Ana to see how she reacted to the idea. I thought it sounded like a mess waiting to happen.

“Would you want to do that?” Andrew asked Ana. “Or we can do something else. Whatever sounds good to you.”

Ana’s lips pinched and turned to me. As much as I wasn’t a fan of this pseudo double date, anytime I could interrupt his time with her, I wanted to take it. So, I agreed, knowing she’d go along with my decision and not have to decide for herself.

“I’m in.”

Ana nodded. “Sure. Sounds like fun.”

“Awesome. I’m so excited,” Katelyn exclaimed, standing to wrap her arms around my waist. Ana’s lip looked like it curled in a silent growl, and there was no way I could hold back the smile.

Yeah, she was jealous and I loved it.

Chapter Thirty-One

Ana

There was a knock at the door, and I really, really wanted to ignore it. The day had sucked. I’d had a call from my mom’s nurse aide reporting that she seemed more tired than usual. I’d asked her to call me with any changes, but a part of me wished I’d just left myself in the dark. That way I didn’t have to face the reality of what my mom was going through. Each message chipped away at my strength and the hope that she’d be able to beat the cancer. Each message reminded me of the possibility of losing her, and it scared the shit out of me.

I didn’t want to deal with anything at that moment. But when the knocking grew more persistent, I gave in, peeled myself off the couch, and yanked open the door. Not even seeing Kevin’s smiling face could make me feel better.

“Kevin, I’m tir—.”

“Nope.” He held up his hand. “Have you eaten?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Yes, you are.” He knocked my arm down from where it held the door and strolled past me, swinging the door closed behind him. “And I’m going to feed you,” he announced, looking around my apartment.

“Kevin,” I sighed, too tired to put up more of an argument.

“I know it sucks, Ana. And I know you’re tired, but I’m going to take care of you and feed you.”

The serious look on his face and softly spoken words irritated me. How dare he barge in and cause a flutter in my chest because he’d come to take care of me? I shouldn’t feel any excitement about his highhandedness. Didn’t I want a normal man? One who listened when I said I was tired and not hungry? I shouldn’t want a man who disregarded my words and acted like he knew me better than I knew myself; knew what I needed.

But Kevin did know me.

I ignored the voice in my head and dug deeper for my irritation.

“I’m ordering Italian and wine—a red,” he announced, pulling menus from our junk drawer.

“What if I don’t want Italian? What if I want white wine? Or beer?”

He lifted his eyes from the menus and cocked an eyebrow, calling me on my lie with just a look. “You love Italian. It’s your favorite comfort food. And you love red wine with Italian.” His eyes scanned the menu. “So, hush and let me feed you.”

I did love Italian food, and listening to him order my favorite dishes made my eyes burn. He knew me, and letting that knowledge sink in made me feel more cherished than I had in a while. I felt like a dick when I compared the way Kevin barged into my house and ordered my favorites without any decision-making from me to the way Andrew tried to help, but had left the night and all the decisions at my already exhausted feet. I shouldn’t be comparing the two like I was trying to pick the better man. They were both great in their own ways.

Kevin and I were just friends, and Andrew and I were just . . .hanging out? Dating? Waiting for me to want more?

It was too heavy to think about.

Instead, I went back to where I was trying to become one with my couch, and waited for Kevin to feed me. At the mention of fettuccine, my stomach had changed its mind about being hungry and growled, loudly proclaiming that Kevin had been right. Asshole. Sweet, caring, asshole. Kevin sat beside me after turning on HGTV because he knew I loved it on as background noise, even though I never really watched it.

He answered the door when the food came and set it all up before me. He sat in silence next to me as we ate and stared at the screen because he knew that in my state of mind, I needed to eat without interruption. He knew everything about me.


Advertisement3

<<<<576775767778798797>124

Advertisement4