The Good Love Collection Read Online Lauren Blakely , Lili Valente

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary Tags Authors: ,
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Total pages in book: 199
Estimated words: 192134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 961(@200wpm)___ 769(@250wpm)___ 640(@300wpm)
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An almost shy smile flickers across his full mouth. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

“I’m going to draw you too,” I say, also a little shy, but in a good way. In an excited way. I’ve never felt shy and excited at the same time, but I’ve never felt a lot of the things Jesse makes me feel. “We should have a gallery show for two before you leave.”

“Done,” he says, his smile fading, though the intensity in his eyes remains.

I disappear into the bathroom, wishing I hadn’t mentioned the leaving part. But his departure is a reality, and if I’m going to graduate from List Academy with my degree in Seizing the Day, I have to live in the real world. I have to meet life where it’s at and do my best to squeeze all the love and hope and joy I can from it, no matter who’s leaving or for how long.

“Thank you, Claire,” I whisper to the cool bathroom air as I load up my toothbrush, feeling her close.

I’m so grateful for this gift she left for me, and I always will be—even when it’s time to say goodbye.

16

JESSE

For some reason, I’m in a mood, but I do my best not to show it.

Even though I’ve got a sneaking suspicion it has something to do with the dangerous thoughts that were racing through my head last night.

But Ruby doesn’t deserve my cranky side—not after our incredible co-ed naked time and the mind-blowing things she did with her mouth this morning.

I don’t know if it’s the fact that she’s Ruby and we have so much history between us, or if she’s in possession of some sort of tongue voodoo, but I’ve never felt anything like that. She brought me to my knees.

Almost literally. If the edge of the bed hadn’t been there, I’m not sure where I would have landed. Maybe on the floor at her feet.

Which is . . . not all that troubling to think about, honestly.

If I fell at her feet, she would pick me up. Because she’s the sweetest, funniest, sexiest, best person I know.

The woman I think I’m falling for.

Dammit.

Fucking hell.

I was hoping it was my sex-brain tricking me last night.

But I feel it again now, in the light of day, and it’s pissing me off a little.

Yep . . . there it is, the source of my grouchiness, even though a hot woman wearing nothing but my T-shirt has made me French toast and is perched beside me at my kitchen table, looking unreasonably cute with powdered sugar on her nose as she praises the cherry-heavy fruit and jam selection in my fridge.

She really is the best. I’m going to miss her, more than I ever imagined I would when we started the list a few days ago.

But my gut tells me that was simply a failure of my imagination. My gut insists that Ruby has been one of my favorite people for a long time and that my feelings for her are more complicated than I’ve been willing to let on.

Even to myself.

Even if it took friends with benefits to start to see it.

Like now, for example. I want to pull her into my lap, kiss the sugar from her nose, and hold her, feel her curvy little body close to mine and know she’s not going anywhere for a long while.

That isn’t something I feel when it’s “just sex” with a woman.

That’s something I feel when I’m . . .

That damn word. I can hear it taunting me.

Falling.

Ruby puts her hand over mine, pulling me from my thoughts as she peers up into my eyes. “Did you hear me? You must not have, or you would be freaking the hell out right now.”

I blink and focus my attention on her face. “Why?”

“The ocean, Jesse,” she whispers, before swallowing hard. “I’m ready to go to it. To go into it.”

My eyes widen. “Fuck.” She hasn’t dipped a toe in the ocean since a school trip in junior high when a wave crashed over her, tugged her under, tossed her around, and thankfully spat her out before it was too late.

I can still remember the look on Claire’s pale face as she relayed the story after, of trying to get to Ruby while the waves slammed her back toward the beach and the stupid Jersey Shore lifeguard took his sweet time getting off his stand.

My sister wasn’t the strongest swimmer, either, but she’d still been willing to risk her life for her best friend at only thirteen.

Even as my mom had lectured Claire that she should always leave lifesaving to the professionals, I’d been so proud of my little sis and her big, brave heart.

The memory tightens my throat and makes me feel even more soft inside.

Even more protective of this woman I don’t ever want to lose.


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