The Girlfriend (The Boss #2) Read Online Abigail Barnette

Categories Genre: BDSM, Billionaire, Contemporary, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Boss Series by Abigail Barnette
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Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 144696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 723(@200wpm)___ 579(@250wpm)___ 482(@300wpm)
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“Wow, you can just have an abortion and go about your day,” I said drowsily, blinking up at the afternoon sunshine as Tony held the car door for me. Neil grimaced in a pained sort of way and I realized he probably hadn’t told his driver where we were going or why.

In the back of the Maybach, I rested my head on the center console, feeling woozy all over again. “If I puke in your car, will you still love me?”

“Of course I will,” Neil said lightly. “Although you might lose some esteem in Tony’s eyes.”

“That’s a shame,” I managed. Then I totally threw up on the floor.

I woke up in my own bed, with absolutely no idea how I’d gotten there. The bedside lamp was on, and the sliver of sky I could see from my window was dark.

I groaned when I sat up. I was no stranger to cramps, but I wasn’t a fan of them either. Neither was I a huge fan of giant, diaper-like maxi-pads from the doctor’s office.

Throwing back the covers, I saw that I was wearing my froggy pjs. Which meant Neil must have helped me put them on. Well, might as well destroy all the romance in a single day.

When I shuffled out to the living room, I found Neil laying on the couch, flipping through the channels on the TV. I watched him for a moment, my heart swelling a little bit at how natural he looked in my apartment. He really felt at home in my space, even though it wasn’t a Fifth Avenue palace. When he saw me, he sat up. “How are you feeling?”

“Um... pretty good.” I was still kind of groggy from the anesthetic, but overall, I felt fine. “A little crampy. Having my wisdom teeth out was worse.”

“Oh?” He smiled, obviously relieved. “I was worried. To the casual observer, it seemed quite invasive.”

“I think the worst part was the sedative. I feel hung-over.” I lay down beside him, curling my knees up.

“Please don’t be furious with me for spending money on you, but I did stop and get you some pads and your prescription while you were sleeping in your own sick in the car. They’re in the bathroom.” He put one arm over my waist, drawing me gently against him.

“Oh man. Pads and froggy pjs, all in the same day. We’re never having sex again,” I laughed. I played it off like it was no big, but inwardly I cringed from terminal embarrassment.

“Oh, I highly doubt that. Although we do have to wait at least two weeks, doctor’s orders.” The arm draped over my waist sought out my hand and threaded our fingers together. “Do you really feel all right?”

“Surprisingly, yes. Despite the feeling that I’ve lost time.” I squinted around the dim living room. “When are we?”

“Nearly seven.” His lips brushed over my ear and he asked, “Do you want me to order something in for us, or are you still ill?”

For the first time in weeks, I was able to think of food and not feel immediately nauseated. I vaguely remembered Dr. Jacobson saying pregnancy symptoms would only take a few days to disappear. It was a Christmas miracle. “Oh, do you know what sounds so good right now? A cheeseburger. And really greasy fries.”

“Your wish is my command.” He sat up and reached for his phone. I sat up, too, and reached for the cigar box of Holli’s stash on the coffee table. I opened it and, finding it empty, made a “tch” of disappointment and slid it back into its place.

Neil put his hand over the mic of his phone. “In my overnight bag.”

What? The drugs must have still been working a little, because I didn’t understand what he was telling me. His wallet? His glasses? I got up and shuffled back to my bedroom, where Neil’s black leather bag sat at the end of the bed. I unzipped the top and, frowning and feeling like a snoop, dug around a little.

My fingers encountered a plastic bag, and my nose caught a very familiar smell.

Neil had brought weed.

There was about an eighth of an ounce in a crisp plastic baggy. I snorted and carried it out to the living room, waiting patiently for Neil to finish his conversation with the delivery place.

I held out the bag. “So, just to be clear... you can’t afford to buy more than an eighth at a time?”

He dropped his phone onto the coffee table. “Are you going to smoke an entire eighth tonight?”

I laughed. “You got this for me? You know I live with Holli, right?”

“I do. And I also remembered that she is out of town. And this,” he gestured to the bag, “is very good.”

I shook my head, smiling. My heart actually hurt from how freaking adorable and thoughtful he could be. “I love you.”


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