Chapters (49)
- Cover
- Dedication
- Books By Natasha Madison
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Chapter Twenty-Six
- Chapter Twenty-Seven
- Chapter Twenty-Eight
- Chapter Twenty-Nine
- Chapter Thirty
- Chapter Thirty-One
- Chapter Thirty-Two
- Chapter Thirty-Three
- Chapter Thirty-Four
- Chapter Thirty-Five
- Chapter Thirty-Six
- Chapter Thirty-Seven
- Chapter Thirty-Eight
- Chapter Thirty-Nine
- Chapter Forty
- Chapter Forty-One
- Epilogue One
- Epilogue Two
- ONLY ONE KISS SNEAK PEEK
- Books By Natasha Madison
- Acknowledgments
“Have a good day,” he says, his voice soft. He comes closer, and I don’t breathe. I don’t do anything really; all I know is that my neck starts to get hot, and my heart starts to echo in my ears. His face comes close to mine, and then he leans in and kisses me softly on my cheek. “I’ll call you later,” he whispers, and then he’s gone.
Walking out of the door with Dylan by his side as he asks him questions, Justin closes the door softly behind them. All I can do is stand, my hand flying to my cheek where the soft kiss still lingers. I don’t move until my phone rings, and I walk to it and see it’s Justin.
“Hello.”
“You didn’t lock the door,” he says, and then I hear him slam the door and start the ignition. “Did you lock it now?” I roll my eyes, and before I can say anything, he continues, “Let me hear you lock it now.”
“You’re kidding me, right?” I ask, annoyed, then pissed. “I’ve been taking care of me and Dylan …” I don’t finish that sentence either.
“Yeah, and you’ve done a great job of it, but”—his voice goes low—“can you just do this for me, please?” I want to tell him no, that I don’t need to lock the door because I can look after myself, but having someone worry about me is a strange feeling—one I don’t know what to do about—so I walk to the door and turn the knob, locking it.
“There, are you happy?” I ask, not sure if he heard the click or not.
“Very,” he says, and I don’t know why, but I can see him smiling like he is standing right in front of me. The dimple on the left side of his cheek calling for me to reach out and touch it. But before I get ahead of myself, I close my eyes and remind myself there is no time, and Justin definitely doesn’t need me in his life. “I’ll call you later.”
Putting the phone down, I get my stuff together. An hour later, I’m walking out of the apartment and making my way toward the church. I pull open the big brown door, and the incense hits me right away along with the silence and the instant peace that I always feel here. I walk down the aisles with wooden pews on each side. The church has seen better days—some of the ceiling paint is peeling and the stained glass colors are fading. I walk past the altar to the side where an open door leads you to two bathrooms and the stairs going to the basement.