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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

Diego is already under the covers when I get back to the bedroom, and the first thought that crosses my mind is: Has he kept the sweatpants?

Easy to find out…

I circle to the left side of the bed and slide under the sheets next to him, casting a furtive glance at his legs—the sweatpants stayed.

“Is the cat sleeping in bed, too?” Diego asks.

“Yeah, Mr. Darcy always sleeps with me when I’m home. You don’t want him?”

He squirms a little in the bed. “It’s just that he’s right on my feet. I don’t think I can sleep with him there.”

I bend forward and gently move Mr. Darcy to the foot corner on my side of the bed. He regards me in outrage, incredulous that I would dare disturb him. But then he starts kneading the comforter and settles down without further protest.

“Better?” I ask Diego.

“Yep, thank you… So, I guess it’s goodnight.”

I kill the lights. “Night.”

I feel Diego shifting under the covers, probably to sleep on his side, but I keep rigidly supine and immobile, careful not to touch him even with a toe, and also attentive not to disturb Mr. Darcy. I’m never going to fall asleep this way, too many variables. I stare into the dark for a long time. But then Diego’s breathing becomes low and regular, and Mr. Darcy starts purring, and both sounds kind of lull me into sleep because I feel my lids getting heavier and heavier and…

***

What time is it? Where am I? What’s this thing between my legs? And what’s pushing me from behind?

With horror, I realize that it’s morning, and I’m at my parents’ house. That the thing between my legs is Diego’s right thigh, and, if I had to guess, I’d say the weight pushing at my back is Mr. Darcy.

The new position is all the cat’s fault. During the night, Mr. Darcy decided to expand into my area of the bed, prompting me to leave his feline majesty all the space he required and to shift toward Diego. But what prompted me to wrap myself around Diego like a baby koala remains a mystery.

I look up at him and find two crinkly green eyes staring back at me. “Morning,” he says.

I make an effort to ignore how good it feels to have my body pressed against Diego’s, and instantly thrash away from him, retreating to my side of the bed and sending Mr. Darcy tumbling down to the floor. I’m so embarrassed I don’t even care about the indignant, “Meow,” and the kitty evil eye the cat throws me.

“So sorry,” I babble. “I don’t know what happened. Usually I’m not a hugger.”

“Relax, boss.” Diego smiles. “It would’ve been worse if you were a snorer.”