When He Reads to Me Read Online T.L. Smith

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Contemporary, Dark, Forbidden, MC Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
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“I just want you happy,” she slurs as we dance. I nod my head at her because I know that’s what she wants for me. And I wish the same for her.

“I am. At least I think I’m getting there.” She pulls me in for a hug, her arms wrapping around me tightly.

“He’s good for you, you know. One day, I will have babies, and we will grow old together, and our kids will be best friends like we are.” I can only smile at her through the haze of alcohol.

I hope Letti gets everything she wants and more.

“We should call him,” she says, pulling back. “Make him confess his love for you.”

I chuckle at her and shake my head. My feelings for Milo are… complicated.

“I reckon he could give you some amazing birthday sex.” She wiggles her brows and reaches for my phone. I don’t stop her. What’s the point? She puts it to her ear, and I don’t even know if she can hear anything because the music is loud. She giggles and hands me the phone. I grab one of her hands and pull her from the dance floor and towards the door, but she is not leaving.

“Elizabeth.”

“Milo Savage,” I say his full name back to him. “Why do you never call me by my surname?”

“Because I know a better surname for you, and when I say your full name, it will be the correct one.” I scrunch my nose at his words, having no idea what he means. Letti yells something at me and points to the bar.

“Where are you?” I ask him.

“Riding.”

“Okay, so how did you answer?” I say, confused. Clearly, I need water.

“You called, I pulled over.”

“Oh, that’s nice. Are you riding home?”

“No, we are on our way to a job,” he says.

“We?”

“Yes, we… the club.”

“Oh God, why did you answer?” I say, baffled.

Letti comes back and holds out a drink for me. I’m already drunk, and I know this is going to end badly.

“Because if you call, I will always fucking answer. Even if I am drowning, you get me?” I don’t because Cody always ignored my calls, so I am not used to it.

“Let’s dance,” Letti yells.

“I have to go,” I say. “If I call later, feel free not to answer. I’m drunk.” I smile into the phone.

“I’ll answer,” is all I get back before I hang up.

“Where was he?” Letti asks, pulling me back to the dance floor.

“On a ride.”

She smiles big. “Those boys don’t even answer their wives’ calls when they are on a ride.” She pulls back and starts to dance as she yells over the music.

“I’m going to have Mason’s babies, and you are going to be my bridesmaid, and we are going to have the best life.”

I don’t argue with her because even though Letti is always a positive person, tonight, she is extra optimistic, and I hope it rubs off on me.

Early the next morning, my phone dings from the bedside table, and Letti kicks a leg over me in her sleep. As I reach for it, I realize somehow we passed out in my bed. When I see his name on the screen next to the message, I drop my phone on my face, hitting my lip. I swear and shake my head as I pick it back up.

Milo: When you drink, do you call all the men you’ve fucked?

I read it two times.

Did I call him?

I go to my call history and note he is the last one called.

Shit.

I must have.

But what did I say?

I don’t reply to his text message as Letti stirs next to me.

But then my phone dings again.

Milo: I can see you read my message, Pretty Lady.

I throw my phone across the room, and Letti sits up at the sound of it thudding on the carpet.

“Shit, sorry.”

“What’s wrong?” She looks around before her hand goes to her head, the aftereffects of last night hitting her full force. “My head hurts.” She groans and lies back down. “We drank way too much last night.”

My phone dings again from the floor, and I bite my lip.

“Why is your phone dinging?” She covers her head with the pillow.

“Did I call Milo last night?” I ask. Pulling the pillow away from her head, she seems to think about it for a while before she answers, “Yeah, you called, then later on you FaceTimed him,” she says, then adds, “He did not look impressed.”

“You let me call him?” I accuse.

“I think you insisted.”

Now my phone starts ringing from the floor.

“Can you at least turn it off? It’s too loud,” Letti grumbles before pulling the pillow back over her head.

I contemplate not answering it, but when Letti groans again, I get out of bed and pick it up.

Turning my phone over, I see his name on the screen. Pressing accept, his face comes into view. Shit, FaceTime. I hang up, but he calls again. And again. Stepping out of the bedroom and shutting the bedroom door so as not to wake Letti any more than I already have, I answer it. As I’m pressing my hands to my hair to flatten my curls from last night, I see his face.


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