The Image of You Read Online Melanie Moreland

Categories Genre: Angst, Contemporary, Drama, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 113142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
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When she emerged, damp and clean, her hair neatly plaited into a long braid down her back, she was wearing my T-shirt and a pair of sweats I found for her.

She was quiet as I drove her to her place. The closer we got, the tenser she became. When we pulled up outside, I turned to her, ghosting my finger down her cheek. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“No!”

“I will.”

Her expression softened. “I know you would. But I have to do this on my own.”

“Will you call me when you’re done?”

“Yes.”

I leaned over and held her face between my hands. “If you need me, text or call. I’ll come get you, no matter what.”

“Thank you.”

I brushed my lips to hers. “Anything, Ally.”

She slipped out of the car, her brilliant gown clutched in her arms, wearing my clothes and a pair of high heels. She looked odd and utterly perfect.

I hated to see her walk away.

By the time I got home, I had a return call about the benefit on Thursday. They were beyond ecstatic for my last-minute contribution to the live auction segment of the evening and were thrilled to have me be part of the event. They were more than happy to accommodate my request for two tickets and to make sure I was seated at the same table as Elena Ames. I decided I wanted to meet the one person who seemed to care about Ally. The other ticket was for a table far away from me, just as I requested.

Then I got to work on the item I’d be donating. As I skimmed through my photos, I paused on one I had taken of Ally this morning. She was nestled against the headboard on her side, her hair fanned out all around her, her face not visible. The ragged neckline of my T-shirt had fallen away, exposing the curve of her shoulder, and the hint of her rounded breast. The pose and the coloring were an erotic visual. High on her shoulder were seven dark freckles in the shape of a V that stood out in vivid detail against the ivory of her skin, adding another element of sexiness. The sun was just rising, the rays of light highlighting her hair.

Remembering one of my favorite photos I had taken last year, an idea struck, and for the next while, I worked, layering and highlighting until it was exactly the way I envisioned it in my head. When it was done, it was the perfect symmetry of the two. A photo of sunset over the ocean, the waves rushing to the shore, with the washed-out, barely seen image of Ally drifting through the sky, the bright waves of her hair dipping into the ocean, diffused stars scattered around her. The layered effect of the clouds had captured my eye the night I had taken the picture, and now they were like the blankets that covered her. With a few more touches, I brought out the freckles in the shimmering light my lens had captured.

I called it Sleeping Angel.

It would bring a high price—I’d make sure of it.

I stopped working only once, when Ally called. Her voice was drained; although she assured me she was fine. Brunch, she told me, had gone exactly as she thought it would. They were disappointed in her selfish actions and made sure she knew their feelings. But I was proud she hadn’t given in to their displeasure.

I wanted to go and get her, but she refused. I stopped arguing, deciding she’d probably been doing nothing but arguing for the past few hours, and I told her I would call her tomorrow.

However, I was there when she left for work, waiting outside her building, needing to reassure myself she was all right. The way she flung herself into my embrace let me know my decision was a good one. She held a small bag, and as we were driving, I asked her what it was for.

“The people above me started renovations today. I barely got any sleep, so I’m going to crash in the on-call room tomorrow. At least I’ll get a few hours of sleep in.”

My brow furrowed. “How long will this go on for?”

“They said a week to ten days.”

“You can’t get by on a few hours that long.”

“Well, I don’t want to go to my parents’. I’ll crash on Elena’s couch when she gets back.”

I pulled up in front of the hospital. “I have a better idea. Stay with me. I’ll pick you up in the morning.”

“Then I’ll interrupt your day.”

“No. I have some work to do. The loft is quiet, and you can sleep.”

“I’d like that, but are you sure?”

I wrapped my hand around hers, kissing the knuckles. “I want to make sure you’re okay. Please let me do this.”


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