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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“I’m not used to anyone looking after me.”

“I want you to get used to me doing it.” I studied her. “Does this bother you?”

“Bother me?”

I placed my hand on her neck, stroking her skin. “This need I have—to take care of you. It’s so important to me. I’m worried I may overwhelm you.”

“Does it overwhelm you?” she asked.

I stared at the dashboard, thinking. “At times. I’m not used to thinking about someone else. I’m afraid I’m going to scare you away.”

“Adam…” she began, waiting until I met her gaze. “Aside from Ollie or Elena, no one has cared for me. Once my dad died, I was alone. It doesn’t scare me. I understand it, because I feel the same way about you. I want to be with you when you’re here.” Her voice caught. “I know when you leave again, I’m going to miss you even more.”

There was nothing else to be said. I kissed her and watched her walk into the hospital, her words ringing in my head.

Had anyone missed me before she came into my life?

I was certain the answer was no.

The next morning, I picked her up, taking her to my place, parking underground. Her eyes grew large as she stared at the gleaming black motorcycle parked beside my deep blue Audi RS 7.

“Is that yours?”

“Yep.” I ran my hand over the shiny metal. “You like to ride, Ally?”

“I’ve never been on one.” She eyed the bike with trepidation. “What kind is it? It looks powerful.”

I slung my arm around her shoulders as we walked toward the private elevator. “It’s a Harley. It is powerful, but I’m careful. I’ll take it out soon. We’ll get you some gear, and you can come with me, if you want.”

“I would.”

“Good.”

I stayed busy during the day while she slept. I had hung my old sheets in the windows by the bed, hoping to at least dim the sunlight so she could rest.

It began raining midmorning, a fast-moving storm blowing through. She became restless, her body tense, her hands clenched. When she whimpered my name, I was done. Recalling her confession of hating storms, I lay beside her, drawing her into my arms, murmuring to her, assuring her she wasn’t alone.

“Adam,” she breathed out again, still asleep but on the verge of waking. But the tone had changed, and the sheer relief in her voice made me hold her close.

“I have you, Ally. You’re safe,” I crooned as she nestled closer.

“It’s just a little storm,” I whispered, pressing a kiss to her head. “Nothing to fear. The storm will end, but we won’t. You’ll never be alone again, Nightingale. I have you,” I repeated, smiling as she relaxed and drifted back to sleep. “I’ll always have you now.”

I liked her reaction to my closeness. I calmed her much the way she helped to center me. We were good for each other.

I held her, talking quietly about nonsensical things until the thunder stopped and I knew she could rest.

I was furious how often her phone rang. I grabbed it, lowering the volume so it wouldn’t disturb her. My mood got darker with every occurrence. Bradley and her mother were the two persistent callers.

They knew she worked all night, the selfish fuckers.

I worked on the computer, stepping into the hall when I needed to make calls, planning a few more changes in the loft.

I didn’t question my motives now. I wanted to look after her. It was important to me, because she was fast becoming the most important thing in my life.

When she woke up, we spent some time talking.

“What do you do when you’re not nursing people back to health?”

“I like to read, and I go to a lot of movies.”

“On your own?” I asked, even though I knew it was none of my business.

“Usually, yes. Sometimes with a friend.”

I resisted asking if that friend was female.

“Ah. And any other interests?”

“I do some volunteer work, go to yoga, that sort of thing.” She shrugged. “I like to cook and bake, and I take things into work to share. I’m a bit of an introvert.”

“I can relate to that.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Really?”

“Does that surprise you?”

She pursed her lips. “It does, actually. You seem too energetic to sit at home much.”

I found that an interesting choice of words. I certainly felt energetic around her. “Energetic?”

“You’re larger-than-life.”

“Does that scare you?” I asked, curious.

“No, I find you fascinating.”

“I feel the same way about you.”

She made omelets, teasing me about my dwindling supplies and having to be inventive.

“I was busy today,” I laughed, picking up the somewhat dry toast. I did have to get to the store and purchase some groceries.

“Do you ever keep much food here?”

“No. I never know when I’ll be called away, and it spoils. Takeout is easier.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

“Now that I have you, I can get a few more things. You could always come and stay here if I was away.”


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