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Back First Comes Love Save as PDF
Chapters (92)
  1. First
  2. Love Connection
  3. Zero
  4. One
  5. Two
  6. Three
  7. Four
  8. Five
  9. Six
  10. Seven
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. One Month Later
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Six Months Later
  21. Sixteen
  22. Seventeen
  23. Eighteen
  24. Nineteen
  25. Twenty
  26. Twenty-one
  27. Twenty-two
  28. Twenty-three
  29. Twenty-four
  30. Six Months Later
  31. Twenty-five
  32. Twenty-six
  33. Twenty-seven
  34. Twenty-eight
  35. Twenty-nine
  36. Thirty
  37. Thirty-one
  38. Thirty-two
  39. Thirty-three
  40. I Have Never
  41. One
  42. Two
  43. Three
  44. Four
  45. Five
  46. Six
  47. Seven
  48. Eight
  49. Nine
  50. Ten
  51. Eleven
  52. Twelve
  53. Thirteen
  54. Fourteen
  55. Fifteen
  56. Sixteen
  57. Seventeen
  58. Eighteen
  59. Nineteen
  60. Twenty
  61. Twenty-one
  62. Twenty-two
  63. A Christmas Date
  64. One
  65. Two
  66. Three
  67. Four
  68. Five
  69. Six
  70. Seven
  71. Eight
  72. Nine
  73. Ten
  74. Eleven
  75. Twelve
  76. Thirteen
  77. Fourteen
  78. Fifteen
  79. Sixteen
  80. Seventeen
  81. Eighteen
  82. Nineteen
  83. Twenty
  84. Twenty-one
  85. Twenty-two
  86. Note from the Author
  87. Sneak Peek – To the Stars and Back
  88. Two
  89. Three
  90. Four
  91. Also by Camilla Isley
  92. About the Author

“Indira.” Ada’s voice is barely audible through the door. “You’ve missed the whole point. It’s not about getting laid, it’s about love.”

“Please don’t tell me we have another hopeless romantic in the house…”

Mercifully, the elevator arrives and I can’t hear any more of Indira’s pretend-cynic comments.

The three of us step in, and as soon as the doors swipe closed, Richard pushes me into a corner. One hand on my lower back, the other buried in my hair.

“I love you.” He nibbles my earlobe. “It’s so good to say it. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I whisper, trying not to combust.

“Woof, woof.” Chevron joins the party at our feet, yapping happily.

We pull apart and scratch her behind both ears.

“Yes, we love you, too,” I say.

Richard squeezes my hand and I stare into his eyes, realizing I don’t care if he’s never going to propose. Our trio feels more like a family than anything I’ve ever had before.

Twenty-two

Don’t Move In Without a Ring

Six months later…

Stretching in bed has become difficult. With Chevron—now grown into a medium-sized dog—sprawled over my feet and Richard on my right side, even my tiny figure is experiencing space rationing. Regardless of Richard’s California King Bed. But the cozy warmth of two bodies pressed against mine is particularly delicious on a cold winter day.

Outside Richard’s window, a rainstorm is attacking New York. It’s been pouring since Monday, meaning I’ve spent three nights in a row at Richard’s place. The boyfriend doesn’t seem upset about it, but sometimes I suspect that even if he were, he’d be too British to tell me.

Rain or no rain, I have to give him a night’s respite and I need a change of clothes, anyway. At five thirty, a vibrating wrist tells me it’s time to get out of bed. Richard’s building has a gym in the basement, meaning I can run despite the weather. But also that, even stuffing my duffel bag to the brim, between training gear, PJs, bathroom stuff, and day clothes, three days is the max autonomy I have without going back home.

Once training is over, I take Chevron out to relieve herself. When I get back into the apartment, I’m soaked, muddy, and miserable. I hate the rain. Before it started, the city was covered in a coat of fluffy white snow; it was a winter wonderland. But now it has all melted into a gloomy puddle.

After a very long shower, I change into my last spare outfit and kiss Richard awake, kick-starting our morning ritual. Richard prepares the oatmeal while I set a pot of water to warm for the French press. Considering the world outside is the saddest gray, Richard surprises me by staring at the storm with a contented smile.