You Might Be Bad For Me Read Online W. Winters, Willow Winters

Categories Genre: Angst, Contemporary, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: ,
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Total pages in book: 213
Estimated words: 201920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1010(@200wpm)___ 808(@250wpm)___ 673(@300wpm)
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This house is small, with only one bedroom and the kitchen is the size of a freaking dime, directly across from the living room. But I paid with cash and I own it. That’s the only thing I was looking for when I knew I needed to leave my ma’s old place. There was too much shit there. Too much of the past cluttering and smothering my every thought.

“Not what you expected?” I ask her dully and keep walking to the sofa to take off my shoes.

I have a nice car and nice threads for when I need them. All my cash is hidden in the floorboard under my cabinet sink. I don’t spend anything I don’t have to. You never know when you may need to run, and I’ll have the cash for that, make no mistake about it.

“You’re such a man. You could at least grab a candle at the corner store or something. Maybe hang a picture?” she suggests, and her lips pull up into a teasing smile.

She finally walks into the room, kicking off her shoes next to mine and slipping into the side of the sofa Carter usually takes. She goes to grab his blanket, but I stop her. It’s weird seeing her gravitate to his things. And to want his things.

“You can have the bed,” I offer her and then add, “That’s Carter’s stuff.”

“Oh.” A shyness spreads through her expression as she gently pushes it away. “Sorry,” she adds and then clears her throat. “Do you have a throw for out here?” she asks.

“You like being under the covers, don’t you?” I ask teasingly, and it makes her smile as she nods. I like that. I like how I can make her smile. I like that even when she’s worked up and upset. When her mind is wandering to disturbing things, I can make her smile and give her something to take away the pain.

“Let me grab you the other blanket,” I say as I stand up. There’s a small linen closet outside of the bathroom, and I have my old blanket in there.

“I don’t know that the Cross boys like me much,” she tells me from the living room even though I can barely hear her in here.

I just washed the blanket the other night and I can still smell the laundry detergent as I bring it out to her. “Why would you think that?” I ask her and play dumb even though I know why she would.

“My mom was kind of into their dad once, and couldn’t take a hint,” she says softly, but cheers up when she sees my blanket. “Ninja Turtles?”

A huff of comforting humor leaves me as I nod.

“You aren’t your mom. They know that,” I say to try to ease her worries.

“Yeah, but…” she starts to say, but I shake my head and she trails off, waiting patiently to hear what I’m going to tell her. She brushes a lock of hair behind her ear and snuggles into the sofa, resting her head on the back cushion.

“I know Carter, and he likes you just fine. More than he likes most people.” I focus on Carter, not his family. It wouldn’t be fair to blame Chloe for her mother’s mistakes. That’d be like her judging Carter for his father’s actions.

“I think he’s all right, too,” she says softly with her eyes closed, nestling deeper into the sofa.

“I said you could sleep in the bed, Chlo,” I remind her and watch as her eyes slowly open, giving me more of that soft blue mix of pale hues that look through me.

“I don’t want to sleep,” she tells me just above a murmur.

A sickness spreads through my chest and down to my gut, settling into a heavy pit there. “You need to sleep.”

Even though my words are hard and non-negotiable, she gives me a sad smile. “No shit. I can’t stay awake forever, but it feels like I’m trying.”

“You don’t like the sweets?” I ask her, remembering what she said about it fucking with her and making her remember shit she didn’t want to. “It’s just supposed to relax you. I think everything that’s going on is messing with your head.”

“I don’t want it to happen again.” Sadness slowly seeps into her eyes, but she doesn’t elaborate.

“Don’t want what exactly?” I ask her, and her expression falls completely as she searches my gaze.

“They’re just nightmares,” she whispers, and I don’t know if it’s more to convince herself or me.

“They come and go; you can’t stop them by running yourself into the ground like this,” I tell her and run my hand over the back of my head. As I do, I feel the weight of my own exhaustion taking over.

“I have Benadryl. I could go get Nyquil?” I give her some options, just hoping she’ll take something. The person who gave me the sweets made it sound like it was the best thing to take to relax and sleep easy. That’s the only reason I gave it to her. It worked for me and I thought it might help her. “You gotta sleep, Chlo.”


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