Southern Chance Read online Natasha Madison (Southern #1)

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Southern Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 68366 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
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“Are you going to be okay?” Savannah asks, and I don’t look at her. I try to talk myself into not killing my best friend.

Casey looks at me and just glares and shakes his head as if I planned this. As if I knew she would be here. “I’m not hungry anymore,” Savannah says.

“We are all adults,” I say, and she looks at me with tears in her eyes. “We can eat in the same place.”

“Easy for you to say,” she mumbles. “You didn’t have the baby of the man she loves.”

“Loved.” I correct her and usher her to one of the booths as we wait for Beau to return.

We both pretend to read the menu. “Well, that wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be,” Beau says, sitting next to Savannah. “You okay?” he asks, and she shakes her head and wipes away a tear.

My leg moves up and down with nerves. I want to go up to her and make sure she’s okay. I want her to know that I care. I want her to know that I didn’t fucking sleep with Savannah. I want to tell her all my secrets. My stomach falls when I look over and see her getting up and wiping away a tear. She smiles and pretends to be okay, but I know she isn’t. She picks up her to-go drink, and they walk out the door. I watch Olivia put her arm around Kallie and walk her to the truck.

“I’m not hungry,” I tell the table. “Rain check.”

“Yeah, of course,” Beau says, and I get up. “I’ll call you later.”

“Yeah,” I say and walk out of the diner toward my truck. I sit in the driver’s seat and put the key inside. My head throbs as my chest feels crushed, so I go to the only place that calms me. I park the truck in my secret spot and make my way down to the creek. The place that calms me yet breaks me equally.

My mind feels like it’s going to explode with all the memories rushing back. All the memories—good, bad, sad, ugly—replay in my head like a movie.

The first time I kissed her. Her telling me that she loved me the first time. The first time I made love to her. The first time we got into a fight and she threw me out of her house. The first time I came crawling back. The first time she woke up in my arms. The last time I kissed her, right before our world got taken from us. The last time I saw her here was with tears streaming down her face.

I’m almost at the creek when I spot him. Someone who is definitely not from here. He stands with his jeans and leather jacket on as he takes pictures. I watch him for a bit, and then he takes out his phone and does something on it. I take out my own phone and snap a picture of him.

As I step out into the clearing, the branches snap under my feet, getting the guy’s attention. His black hair is pushed all the way back, his eyes in surprise that someone should be here. “Can I help you?” I ask, and he changes now.

He laughs nervously. “Not really. I think I’m lost. I was …” He turns around and pretends to be looking at something. “On a hike and I must have taken the wrong turn.”

“Yeah, those trails are tricky.” I play into his story even though there are no fucking trails anywhere in this town. “You should really have brought a guide with you.”

“Yeah, I should have,” he says, looking down at his feet, and I notice he’s wearing Chucks.

“Where you from?” I ask, trying to reel him in.

“Oh, I’m a West Coast boy,” he says. “Figured I’d get away to clear my head.”

“Well, you came to the right place,” I say, “but this is private property.”

“Really?” He acts shocked. “I didn’t know.”

I shrug. “Let me help you to your car,” I say, and he nods at me.

“Do you remember where you parked?”

“I think a little over that way.” He points to the path that leads to the road.

“Well, let me escort you there.” I hold out my hand and wait for him to walk in front of me.

“You really don’t have to do that,” he says, looking over his shoulder at me.

“It’s my pleasure.” I smile tight, and I take him to his car that is parked on the side of the road. I make a mental note of his license place, but I have no doubt it’s a rental.

“Well, thank you,” he says, unlocking his car door. “People in the South are so trusting.”

“That’s what we make you believe,” I say. “People in the South also shoot first and ask questions later.”


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