Torn Read online Carian Cole (All Torn Up #1)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Contemporary, Erotic, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: Series: All Torn Up Series by Carian Cole
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Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 142833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
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"So, that's why, Kenz. Let's just be happy we have a great friendship. That's more than most people have. How's the saying go? Lovers come and go, but friends are forever? That's what I want. You, in my life forever, with nothing fucking it up."

"I want that too. I just thought..." I lick my lips nervously as I bravely look him in the eye. "I thought I could make you happy."

His complexion pales a shade. Maybe two shades. "Kenzi, you do make me happy. I love hanging out with you. But I need a real woman to be in a relationship with," he rubs the scruff of his face and looks at me uncomfortably. "There's things I need and want that you can't give me."

I try to swallow past the lump of embarrassment, anger, and sadness that has lodged in my throat.

"Oh." Of course. He's talking about sex, and while he knows I'm a virgin, he probably can also figure out that I've not done much more than kiss. Men seem to have a radar for that sort of thing and I must be a big red beeping dot on the inexperience map. "But maybe you could teach-"

He interrupts me before I can go any further. "No. Hell no. We are not talking about this," he lets out a low whistle and shakes his head. "You gotta stop doing this to me, Kenz. It's not cool. I'm only human, ya know. I mean, fuck."

"I'm sorry."

He grabs my hand and holds it in his, and it brings me back from sinking into the depths of extreme awkwardness. "I love you," he says. "Seriously, you're my favorite person on this planet. But I want us to go back to how we were. Friends, okay?"

"Okay."

My legs get weak when he winks at me and I hold onto his hand for a moment too long as he tries to let go. "Now I'm heading outta here to take care of your bunny. I'll text you later." He places his hands on the sides of my head and leans down to kiss my forehead. His affectionate gestures cause my heart to twirl. He's always been this way, but my body's and heart's reaction to it lately is entirely different than it's ever been before. When I was little, it made me feel adored. When I was an early teen, it felt annoying and embarrassing. But now, it's a life force I can't seem to get enough of.

"I don't want you to be sad. Enjoy your vacation. Promise me?"

"I promise."

I wave to him as his truck pulls away from the curb, the hero who bought me a bunny to cheer me up when I was five years old now driving her little body back home to lay her to rest for me. I know I shouldn't be feeling so deeply for him, or wanting to feel his lips on mine and be tangled in his embrace, but I crave all of that and so much more.

If he thinks I can't be a real woman and make him happy in every way a man needs to be happy - that he needs to be happy - then I'm going to prove him wrong. My mom told me to always follow my heart, and mine is galloping towards him like a wild horse.

16

Tor

Kenzi ~ age sixteen

Tor ~ age thirty-one

Every week when I clean Tor's house, I feel guilty that he pays me fifty dollars because his house is always so clean already. I wipe down his kitchen and bathrooms, do his laundry if any is laying around, clean out his refrigerator, and vacuum. Today I feel like I should try to do more to justify my fifty, so I clean all his windows and mirrors, and move as much of his furniture as I can to vacuum under it. In the corner of his bedroom is an old glass jug that's about two and a half feet high and about the same in circumference with a big handle on the side. The jug is filled with mostly quarters and dimes that reach about three inches away from the top opening of the jug. It's been in the same place for as far back as I can remember, so I try to move it so I can vacuum underneath it and around it, but it weighs a ton. I can't budge it for anything. He comes into the bedroom just as I'm cleaning it with glass spray cleaner and a cloth.

"Uncle Tor, what the hell is this thing?" I ask him from where I'm sitting on the floor next to it. "I wanted to clean around it but it weighs about a hundred pounds."

He kneels down next to me. "It's a special family tradition. Do you want to know what it is?"


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