Texting My Dad’s Best Friend Read Online Flora Ferrari

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
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The first thing I do after I shower is check my phone.

Morning, handsome.

I find myself grinning, feeling like a younger man.

There’s a tickle in my chest as though her words are beckoning to my heart. I might’ve found that unbelievably cheesy once, but not anymore.

It only feels true.

Are we going to behave today? I send, smirking, even as a ball of guilt threatens to erupt inside of me.

I think we should. Are you heading out to the beach soon?

Yep. I’m going to do my best not to look at you. So don’t wear anything TOO sexy.

It’s going to take some getting used to the idea of you thinking I’m sexy.

But you are. It’s undeniable.

I get dressed, catching sight of myself in the mirror.

My mind puts Brooke next to me as I imagine her standing there, just below my shoulder height, her arm wrapped around my waist as I loop mine over her shoulder. I can see so clearly, so temptingly what a perfect couple we’d make.

Well, you’re undeniably handsome, so we’re even.

Walking out of my room, I peer across the glistening water, the early-morning sun lighting up the world.

The horizon is a deep red, and then I look closer at the opposite pier.

My woman stands on the walkway, wearing shorts and a T-shirt, different from yesterday. But the outfit reminds me of what we did, the grove, almost getting caught.

The outfit makes me think of my hand between her legs, pumping slickly.

She turns, walking toward the beach, and I do the same.

Taking out my phone, I quickly send her a text.

Well done.

I watch as she takes hers from her pocket and types.

We’re getting closer together, but we have to be careful. Gil, Sonya, Mila, and a few others are already gathered on the beach, with the guide standing at the front, waiting for us.

I’m trying, she replies. But if you keep looking at me like that….

We’re walking almost side by side toward the group.

And now I’m wondering if it seems more suspicious, how we’re walking without talking.

Or if anybody cares. Or notices.

I’m not used to overthinking like this, thoughts clashing, making it difficult to pick one definitive course of action.

Finally, we arrive at the group, Gil grinning, his Hawaiian shirt open at the neck. There it is again, that beaming happiness, the thing I may end up destroying.

“You didn’t oversleep,” Gil says, aiming a grin at Brooke.

Brooke throws him a look. “Don’t sound so surprised.”

Gil chuckles. “Kids, eh?”

“I’m not a kid, Dad,” Brooke says sharply. “I’m a nineteen-year-old woman.”

She says it aggressively, causing Sonya and Gil to exchange glances. Understandably, they have no idea why she’d want to make this point so strongly, but I do.

And I agree with her. Brooke is all woman.

Gil chuckles. “Okay, touchy.”

“Sorry,” Brooke murmurs. “Can I blame the jet lag again?”

Gil grins, nodding as though nothing could shake his good mood.

How could it?

He’s marrying the woman of his dreams, surrounded by his friends and family.

His best man is his closest friend.

His best man.

But would a truly dedicated friend be thinking about any of this?

Does it make any difference if I don’t just want to take her to bed but be with her forever?

Once everybody’s gathered, the guide gives the safety speech. I listen as closely as I can, but it’s difficult to focus on anything except how close my woman is.

She’s standing next to Mila, just in front of me, so near I’m sure I can scent her hair, her just-her smell.

I want to move forward, wrap my arms around her, and hold her like other couples hold each other. I want to do it without guilt, without the feeling I’m going to ruin everything.

But I can’t because I will ruin everything.

And that can’t happen.

We take out two boats, the engines thrumming, traveling toward the nearest island in single file.

Brooke’s in the boat ahead of us. Unfortunately, we’re jostling too much for me to be able to spend time absorbed in her.

I’m not sure if it’s a good or a bad thing.

If my throbbing seed is any indication – or the hunger in my heart – it’s bad.

But when I turn my gaze to Clive and Cynthia in my boat, I know it’s for the best. They remind me of what happened yesterday, of how we nearly were caught.

“Having fun?” Clive beams.

I return his grin as best I can. The last thing I want is to make this weekend about me in any way that extends to moping.

“A blast,” I say, voice raised over the engine and the repeated crashes of the water.

I want to take out my phone and text her, but I don’t have my cell phone, and neither does she. The guide told us that if we were to fall in, we’d have to pay for the cost of a replacement.

But that’s not the reason I left mine behind.


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