Read Online Succulence (Succulent Trilogy #1) by Lauren Lashley - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lauren Lashley
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interested in giving a long-distance romance a shot, especially because he had no intentions of ever going to Texas ever.
I let the first call go to voicemail. As much as I missed him, I wasn’t prepared to talk to him. Besides, it could have been some sort of mistake as far as I’m concerned. He hadn’t even texted me on my birthday – and that was mere months after our breakup.
11:03 pm: Heard you’re in town…
11:15 pm: Yes
11:16 pm: Can you talk?
I paused before responding to that. Just because I could talk at that very moment didn’t mean it would be a smart choice to do so. We hadn’t dated for too long, just a little over a year, but I thought things were getting serious. His refusal to consider giving out love a chance long distance crushed my heart. I had never felt so unimportant, especially upon discovering how quickly he had moved on once I was gone. It made me wonder whether he ever really cared.
It was to the point that I wouldn’t even acknowledge his name or really even discuss him with anyone. As far as I was concerned, he was nothing but a memory to me. If I was so insignificant that all it took was the first pretty girl to walk by to take his heart off our breakup less than 3 or 4 months post-breakup, he didn’t deserve the dignity of being known and discussed by name.
11:25 pm: We’re talking now. How can I help you?
He answered by calling. I deleted his number from my phone, so he had the same default ringtone I gave all strangers and people I hadn’t saved.
“Hello?” I said, unimpressed, the metallic hint of annoyance in my tone.
“Hey stranger,” he replied.
Still not impressed. I tried to keep it cute but ended up sounding a little snide, betraying my cool persona. “Again, how can I help you?”
“Amy, relaaaaaax . I just wanted to hear your voice. See how you’re doing. I missed you,” he purred into the phone. His tone caused my stomach to flutter; he still gave me butterflies, no matter how hard I tried to deny it.
“I’m… good,” I replied, my tone softening along with my resolve. I wanted to cuss him out, hate him for what he had done to my heart. He didn’t deserve to have so much power over me.
“I was wondering if we could meet. Coffee or small nightcap. My treat?”
I didn’t know how to answer. He was always bold and aggressive, never shy about what he wanted. This always turned me on, but being that it was nearly midnight, my mind wasn’t interested in getting anything close to caffeine in my mouth.
Putting him in my mouth, though? That was a possibility. Replays of the times we shared together oozed into my thoughts, which, up until a moment ago, were solidly against anything this man had to say. He broke through my thoughts.
“Well?”
“...You want to meet… now ?”
“No time like the present.”
I was tongue-tied. Part of me wanted to see him, but that was the naughty, “Amy after Dark” side of me. If she saw him, up close and personal, felt the heat in his touch and the masculine heat underneath his cologne, it was over. I could kiss all my self-control goodbye.
“Mamoun’s. 20 minutes. I’ll be in the corner. Bring your sexy ass or I’m coming to your house and causing a scene,” he said, hanging up.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Twenty minutes was not enough time to get ready, but I did the best I could. Because I wanted to look good, but not like I was trying too hard, I threw on a simple maxi dress, halter style, simple hoop earrings and a matching pendant.
My black eyeliner was slightly smudged from the long day, so I had to refresh my appearance. I used one of my oil-balancing makeup wipes to clean up the raccoon-like residue. The leftover effect preserved the eyeliner that was still present in my waterline, giving me a subtly and sexy defined eye. I grabbed some baby pink lip-gloss, spritzed on some Carven and told mom I’d be back in a
I let the first call go to voicemail. As much as I missed him, I wasn’t prepared to talk to him. Besides, it could have been some sort of mistake as far as I’m concerned. He hadn’t even texted me on my birthday – and that was mere months after our breakup.
11:03 pm: Heard you’re in town…
11:15 pm: Yes
11:16 pm: Can you talk?
I paused before responding to that. Just because I could talk at that very moment didn’t mean it would be a smart choice to do so. We hadn’t dated for too long, just a little over a year, but I thought things were getting serious. His refusal to consider giving out love a chance long distance crushed my heart. I had never felt so unimportant, especially upon discovering how quickly he had moved on once I was gone. It made me wonder whether he ever really cared.
It was to the point that I wouldn’t even acknowledge his name or really even discuss him with anyone. As far as I was concerned, he was nothing but a memory to me. If I was so insignificant that all it took was the first pretty girl to walk by to take his heart off our breakup less than 3 or 4 months post-breakup, he didn’t deserve the dignity of being known and discussed by name.
11:25 pm: We’re talking now. How can I help you?
He answered by calling. I deleted his number from my phone, so he had the same default ringtone I gave all strangers and people I hadn’t saved.
“Hello?” I said, unimpressed, the metallic hint of annoyance in my tone.
“Hey stranger,” he replied.
Still not impressed. I tried to keep it cute but ended up sounding a little snide, betraying my cool persona. “Again, how can I help you?”
“Amy, relaaaaaax . I just wanted to hear your voice. See how you’re doing. I missed you,” he purred into the phone. His tone caused my stomach to flutter; he still gave me butterflies, no matter how hard I tried to deny it.
“I’m… good,” I replied, my tone softening along with my resolve. I wanted to cuss him out, hate him for what he had done to my heart. He didn’t deserve to have so much power over me.
“I was wondering if we could meet. Coffee or small nightcap. My treat?”
I didn’t know how to answer. He was always bold and aggressive, never shy about what he wanted. This always turned me on, but being that it was nearly midnight, my mind wasn’t interested in getting anything close to caffeine in my mouth.
Putting him in my mouth, though? That was a possibility. Replays of the times we shared together oozed into my thoughts, which, up until a moment ago, were solidly against anything this man had to say. He broke through my thoughts.
“Well?”
“...You want to meet… now ?”
“No time like the present.”
I was tongue-tied. Part of me wanted to see him, but that was the naughty, “Amy after Dark” side of me. If she saw him, up close and personal, felt the heat in his touch and the masculine heat underneath his cologne, it was over. I could kiss all my self-control goodbye.
“Mamoun’s. 20 minutes. I’ll be in the corner. Bring your sexy ass or I’m coming to your house and causing a scene,” he said, hanging up.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Twenty minutes was not enough time to get ready, but I did the best I could. Because I wanted to look good, but not like I was trying too hard, I threw on a simple maxi dress, halter style, simple hoop earrings and a matching pendant.
My black eyeliner was slightly smudged from the long day, so I had to refresh my appearance. I used one of my oil-balancing makeup wipes to clean up the raccoon-like residue. The leftover effect preserved the eyeliner that was still present in my waterline, giving me a subtly and sexy defined eye. I grabbed some baby pink lip-gloss, spritzed on some Carven and told mom I’d be back in a
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