Sparked (V-Card Diaries #4) Read Online Lili Valente

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Erotic, Romance, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: V-Card Diaries Series by Lili Valente
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Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 65192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
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Though, if I’m honest with myself, I don’t know that I could be just her friend. Now that I’ve kissed her, tasted her, felt her body warm against mine as we snuggled on the couch last night, being “good buddies” wouldn’t be enough.

It was never enough. That’s why I left when I did, the way I did.

“And then you decided to come home and ruin your clean break,” I mutter as I pace faster, ignoring the woman watching me from the opposite platform, clearly trying to decide if I’m harmless crazy or dangerous crazy.

But I’m harmless and we’re separated by two rows of train tracks. I’m no danger to her or the little girl clutching her hand or anyone else, except myself.

And maybe Jess, who had enough on her plate tonight without my selfish confession.

Fuck. I should have kept my fucking mouth fucking shut. It didn’t matter that all my feelings for her were rising inside me like a flood or that some stupid voice in my head thought the truth would make her feel better about the way our friendship ended. I should have remained calm and in control and realized that half an hour after her mom had a heart attack wasn’t the right time to bare my soul.

You should have realized there was never going to be a right time and let the stupid dream die without dragging Jess into it.

The inner voice is right.

But maybe it’s not too late to make this better…

I pull my cell from my pocket, thumbs hovering over the letters as I search for the perfect words. But it only takes a few seconds for it to become obvious there are no perfect words. There’s only the truth and how much I want her to believe it, so I type—I’m sorry I made things uncomfortable between us when you already have so much on your plate. I meant everything I said, but you don’t have to do anything about it. We don’t have to talk about that, or anything else, ever again, if you don’t want to.

Just please, keep your interview. I’ll stay out of the process and out of your orbit if you get the job, so don’t worry about that.

I don’t want to be the reason you give up a position that would be perfect for you. I only want good things for you, Jess, for now and always, even if we never see each other again.

I really hope everything with your mom and your cousin and the new baby works out okay.

Sending you good vibes from the train back to NYC.

I read over the words twice to make sure I haven’t said something I’ll regret later and hit send. The woosh of my sent text is followed almost immediately by a ping from behind me. I spin to see Jess standing by the row of three wooden seats bolted to the platform.

“From you?” she asks, her gaze locked on mine as she pulls her cell from her purse.

I nod, my tongue cramping into a stress knot at the back of my throat, rendering me incapable of speech.

“Should I read it?” she asks, cocking her head to one side.

I nod, my heart joining my tongue at the back of my throat as she scans the words, taking a deep breath and letting it out before lifting her gaze to mine. “But you aren’t on the train yet.”

I shake my head and croak, “No, but it will be here soon. And I meant that. All of it. I’m so sorry, Jess, I never meant to—”

“Stop,” she whispers, cutting me off with an urgent step forward. For a second, I think she’s going to rush across the few feet still separating us, but she stops as quickly as she started, swaying back and forth on her feet. “Just…stop,” she repeats in a softer voice. “You don’t have to apologize. I’m the one who should apologize.”

I start to protest but she lifts her hand and says, “Please, let me finish. I’m not good at talking about feelings. I always forget what I want to say or say the wrong thing and I really don’t want to do that this time. I want to get this right.”

“All right,” I say with a nod, preparing myself for the “letting the nice guy who has a crush on me down easy” talk I’ve been dreading since the moment I opened my mouth and all the crazy came out.

“Okay, so…here’s what I think.” She tries to stuff her phone into her back pocket once, twice, three times before she curses beneath her breath and tosses it into her purse. “Another bullshit part of dressing like my mother’s clone—khaki pockets are so stupidly small.” She wipes her now-empty palms on the front of her shirt before propping her hands on her hips with a shaky rush of breath.


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