This Is Wild Read online Natasha Madison (This is #2)

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: This Is Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 114467 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
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“I thought my foot was broken, and you thought I was proposing,” he says, shaking his head and eating more soup. “This is really good,” he says.

“Good. I got you some for tomorrow,” I tell him and finish my own soup. “This was exactly what I needed.”

“Dinner with me?” he asks, and I look over at him, and he winks at me.

I put my hand to my stomach. “I suddenly think I’m going to barf.”

“Thanks again, Zoe,” he says softly to me. I move over to bump his shoulder, but instead of going away from him after, I just stay there, next to him. Our arms touch shoulder to shoulder, and all I smell is him all around me. It would take nothing for me to lean in, and my lips would be on his. I look up into his eyes, seeing if he is thinking the same thing, but before anything happens, his buzzer rings. I spring away from him as if I got caught doing something I shouldn’t be.

He looks at me and then at the door. “Did you invite any hookers?”

“Yeah, a whole harem,” he jokes. “That’s why I’m shirtless.”

I scoff as I get up. “And to think it was all a ploy to lure me into bed.” I shake my head and press the button, asking, “Who is it?”

“Um, Jeffrey, but I think I have the wrong apartment.” I hear him through the speaker and press the button for him to come up.

“It’s Zoe,” I tell him and then hear him open the door. I unlock the door and stand in the hallway for the elevator.

Jeffrey walks out of the elevator and smiles at me. “Well, there is no better sight than that,” he says, walking toward us and pointing at Viktor. He stops in front of me holding out his hand and giving me another fist bump. “How is the patient?”

“He’s waiting for his harem to come and give him a sponge bath,” I joke with him and walk back into the apartment with the sound of Jeffrey laughing.

“Hey,” Jeffrey says, going to Viktor. “I thought I’d come over and check on you.” He looks at me. “Looks like you’re in good hands.”

“I just came over to deliver soup, and now I’m going,” I tell them, and Jeffrey looks at me. “You are saving me.”

“I’m right here,” Viktor says, and I shake my head, grabbing my jacket.

“This was fun.” I look at Viktor and then back at Jeffrey. “Especially seeing that handsome face,” I joke with him as I grab my purse and stuff. “You take care.” Then I look at Viktor. “Good luck with the harem.”

I close the door and walk down the hallway away from the two men who are laughing as I exit. “It was just a good deed,” I tell myself. “The same I would do for anyone,” I say under my breath to no one standing next to me in the elevator.

Lies, I hear in my head. All lies.

Chapter Nineteen

Viktor

“That was a nice surprise,” Jeffrey says the minute the door closes behind Zoe. “She’s a beauty.”

“I thought you were married.” I look at him.

“Married isn’t dead,” he tells me, and I just shake my head.

“Is she going to be a problem?” he asks me. I get up from my stool and hop over to the couch and sit down, putting my foot up on the table on top of a throw pillow.

“No,” I answer him, and he comes over and sits next to me. “We’re friends.”

“Well, that is good to hear,” he says, and I’m suddenly pissed.

“And why’s that?” I snap at him.

“Because you haven’t started to like yourself yet, let alone have the time to like someone else.” I roll my eyes at him.

“I like myself just fine,” I tell him.

“Do you?” he asks me, and I want to tell him to leave. “How bad do you want to tell me to fuck off right now?”

“On a scale from one to a hundred,” I tell him. “A million.”

“Why?”

It’s a question with three little letters. Why? Except it’s a loaded question.

“Is it because you like her and think you aren’t good enough for her?” he starts, and I don’t interrupt him. “Is it because all the rules tell you that you can’t fall in love until after a year?” He takes a deep breath. “Or is it because you’re a scared little shit who thinks that a good woman will never ever love you because of who you are?”

“One and three are the same,” I tell him, and he shakes his head.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he tells me. “One is, are you good enough for her. Three is, can she love you for you.” He looks at me. “Two totally different things.”

“She knows that it’s not an option, and she also let me know that I’m not her type, so …” My stomach burns while I say this. “We are going to be friends.”


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