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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“Okay,” he answers. “With what?”

“I’m downstairs, and well, you just need to come and help,” I tell him and look over at the truck of balloons that I had delivered. He comes out a second later dressed almost like me, except his shirt is pushed up to his elbows and he has sneakers on his feet. His hair looks like he just ran his fingers through it, and I wonder if it’s as soft as it looks.

“What did you need help with?” he asks me, and I stand here with a cake box in my hands courtesy of my driver.

“Don’t freak out,” I tell him, “but I need you to take this box upstairs, and then I need you to go into the cinema room and only come out when I tell you to.” He looks behind me at the truck with the words PARTY DECORATIONS across it. “Trust me.”

“I was thinking low-key.” He leans in and whispers to me.

I lean in really, really close to him. “Me, too,” I whisper back to him. “Now go so we can get the show on the road.” He shakes his head at me, and I shoo him away.

I wait for the guys to get out of the truck and hand me two bunches of balloons and then the man brings in a tank and the rest of the balloons. I lead him to the apartment, and I see the cake on the counter and see that Viktor isn’t there, so I let the guy in. I let the balloons go and they float to the high ceilings one at a time. I separate them and look at the fifty blue balloons I ordered. He is just finishing up blowing up the balloons that spell 6 MONTHS.

When he finishes tying the balloons together, I shake his hand and call out for Viktor. I hear the door slam and then hear him walking down the stairs. “Surprise,” I say, throwing up my hands.

He smiles and looks at the balloons. “You have a thing with balloons, you know that?”

“I do,” I say, shrugging my shoulders. “I think I always did; it just screams happiness to me.” I look around. “And also, let’s celebrate, bitches.”

He shakes his head and puts his head down, then he looks up at me, and I take him in. He’s different than he was at the beginning. In the three months since I’ve known him, he feels a bit less constricted, a little bit lighter on his feet. His eyes are lighter, the circles around his eyes are almost nonexistent, and he smiles and laughs more. “You really are the ray of sunshine.”

“I don’t know about that,” I say, and I’m suddenly nervous around him. My heart beats a touch faster, and my hands are clammy. I rub them together in nervousness. “What time is everyone else coming?”

“I only invited four people,” he tells me. “Well, six actually. With us, it will be eight.” The buzzer blaring lets us know someone is here. I look around and see that he set up a bar in the corner with some wine, vodka, rum, gin, and scotch.

“Sorry we are late.” I hear Zara and look at her. “There was traffic, and Matthew is parking the car.” She shrugs off her jacket, and then she looks at me. “Fancy seeing you here,” she says, and I look down and feel like I’ve been caught by my parents doing something I shouldn’t be.

Evan is right behind her, handing Viktor his coat. “Matthew and Karrie are fighting about where to park, so they should be up in a second.” He then looks around. “Jesus, Zoe, did you need to get so many?” Evan says, shaking his head. “Nice place.” I stand here and watch them chitchat, then look at Zara who walks over to me.

“Don’t,” I whisper to her. “Not right now.” I look down, and I try to steady my breathing, then I look up. She must see the emotions I’m going through. I’m too close. I’m lying to myself and to him. I like him, I like him a lot, and he’s unattainable. “You feeling okay?” I ask her, trying to change my thinking, and she just nods and grabs my hand, making it a little worse.

“Breathe,” she whispers. “Go to the bathroom and fix yourself.” I nod and make a quick exit to the bathroom. Running the cold water, I wet my hands and put them on my face to bring the redness down and blink away the little tears about to form. I hear laughter, and I’m about to open the door when a soft knock sounds. “It’s me.”

I open the door, and Zara comes in. She is wearing black pants with a black shirt that molds her body, and you can see her five-month belly that is slowly becoming bigger. I sit on the toilet and look at her. “I didn’t know you were coming.”


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