The Wrong Number (Bad For Me #4) Read Online Lindsey Hart

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy Tags Authors: Series: Bad For Me Series by Lindsey Hart
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Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76347 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
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“You’re crazy,” I say with a gasp. Her eyes widen. “You’re crazy because you’re this amazing, totally beautiful, intriguing, intelligent, strong person—the whole freaking package. I had never wanted to tell someone the truth as badly as I wanted to tell you. If you’re willing to learn, then I’m more than willing to learn as well. Plus, I think we might have a few things in common.”

“Oh? Like what?”

“Well, the fact that we both like reading, we both like planting flower gardens, and we’re both crazy attractive people.”

She throws her head back, laughs at that, then scoffs. “Oh, jeez. Wow. The humility. I can’t take it.”

“But the thing we have most in common? The fact that I’m willing to do so much more than learn how to be a good companion. I’m willing to learn how to fall in love and then love you like crazy once we get there.”

“Oh.” This time, it’s a good ‘oh.’ A surprised ‘oh’ because, yeah, that L-word is scary.

“I said learn,” I clarify. “Because I know it takes time and work, but if you want to be a part of this family, or if you’d even consider it, then we have time. I’ll freaking move whatever earth I have to heft up on my shoulders to make time. And work? I’ll do whatever it takes. I could use the same earth analogy again, but that might be overdoing it a little bit and—”

I don’t get to finish because she launches herself across the couch at me. I see her coming and open my arms just in time for her to hit me like a ton of bricks. For a small girl, she packs a big punch with some momentum. I get shoved back against the couch cushions, and the breath even gets sucked out of my lungs, but I love every single second of it.

I tilt my face down and draw in the fresh scent of Victoria like I’m breathing in life-giving air. I might have picked out the name Atlas for myself, mostly because Orion insisted we gave ourselves badass names when we started our new life with Granny, but honestly, if anyone is divine, it’s this woman—this woman who has the softest, kindest heart. She’s so quiet and humble and gentle, yet she’s also fierce. She’s willing to fight for what she wants, and despite what people have been telling her for her whole life, I know she knows what it is.

And me?

Yeah, I do know humility, even if I might make the occasional joke sometimes. Because right now? I’m more than humbled that she can see past everything that’s happened, see past what our family does—I mean, it’s a good thing, but not everyone would see it that way because it definitely takes some time to get used to—and is willing to give me yet another shot.

One that I’m not ever going to mess up again.

“Victoria?” I whisper against her hair.

“Hmm?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“If you don’t, I might have to tickle you to death. Don’t make me make good on that threat. I’m in a prime position to do it.”

She’s already pressed up against me, so I tilt her face up, cradling it gently in my big hands. Then, I sweep her hair behind her ear and tangle my fingers in it just because I love the feel of all that silky softness so much. Her breath catches sharply, and yeah, I totally get it. From here on out, I freaking promise not just to keep her safe but to make something beautiful with her.

When I finally claim her lips, I make sure every ounce of what I’m feeling gets translated into that kiss.

EPILOGUE

Victoria

“The keys will be under the doormat tomorrow, and I’ll make sure the hot water heater is off, the water is switched off, and everything is good to go. The papers are already done at the lawyer’s, and you went in to sign them. Hmm…what else? I feel like I’m missing something. It’s probably summer related, and I’ll remember in a few months and kick myself.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ll take care of it.”

“Yes,” Dad echoes. “The important thing is that you take care of yourself.”

Atlas’ arm tightens around my shoulders. “Don’t worry. I’ll look after her. I promise.”

“Between my writing and research, I don’t know when I’ll have a chance to find trouble anyway,” I say blandly. “I’m not exactly the type of person who finds wild, daring adventures, gets involved with world-changing organizations, and lives a secret double life. I save that for my stories.”

My parents laugh, and while it’s not an awkward laugh, it is laced with worry and sadness. This is our goodbye for now. They think that Atlas and I are getting on a plane tomorrow to go to Europe, where I want to base my next set of books. What they can’t know, though, is how much truth there is in every jest, especially the one I just made.


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