The Wrong Kind of Love Read Online Lexi Ryan

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 101051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 505(@200wpm)___ 404(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
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She takes the paper from my fingers and swallows as she looks down at it. “Maybe.” She studies me for a beat, then climbs off the couch and loops her arms behind my neck. She lifts onto her toes and presses a kiss to my mouth. “Goodnight.”

“Call me,” I say against her mouth. I don’t remember the last time I said that and meant it. I’m not done with her.

“No regrets,” she says, and I don’t like the finality in those words.

Nicole

The shrill ring by my head makes my jaw snap shut and my eyes fly open. The sound repeats two more times before I realize it’s coming from the phone next to my bed. The hotel phone. In Michigan. Where I came after I ran from my wedding. Where I messed around with a sexy stranger without ever getting his name.

Right.

I reach for the receiver. “Hello?”

“Ms. Maddox, there’s a Teagan Chopra downstairs for you. Would you like me to put her on?”

I blink and straighten in bed. Teagan? I haven’t seen her since college. She attended the small state school in Jeffe on a track scholarship, but I thought she moved back home to Virginia after she got her nursing degree. What’s she doing in Michigan? “Yes. Please do.”

There’s a muffled voice and the sound of the phone moving.

“Teagan?”

“Veronica? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I’m not Veronica. I’m Nicole.”

She grunts. “I’m not falling for that bullshit again.”

I shake my head then wince when that just makes my pounding head ache more. One issue at a time. “What’s going on? What are you doing here?”

“Well, you didn’t show up to breakfast and I was worried. Your phone must be dead because it’s going straight to voicemail.”

“I turned it off.” I didn’t want Veronica or anyone else calling. I just wanted to sleep for as long as possible.

“Did you forget about me? Oh my God, this woman is giving me the stink-eye. Give me your room number so we can have this conversation in person.”

“Um . . .” I shake my head. I don’t really understand what’s happening, but that seems to be the theme of my life lately. So, why not? “I’m in 218.”

“Up in a flash.”

I hang up, then pull myself out of bed and rub my eyes, but they don’t want to stay open.

Now what? Yesterday was all about running away, both physically and emotionally. But today, the sun is shining, and I’m in my sister’s hotel room in Michigan.

“Veronica?” There’s a knock on the door. “Veronica? Are you okay?”

I stumble out of bed and open the door to see Teagan standing on the other side. She looks just like she did in college—long, dark hair, and the flawless olive skin she gets from her Indian father. Today she’s showcasing her usual impeccable style with boots, jeans, a sweater, and a pair of chunky earrings. I remember her always looking put-together, no matter the occasion. “Teagan?”

“Eeep!” She rushes at me with open arms and wraps me in a hug.

“God, it’s been so long. I don’t think I’ve seen you since college.”

She frowns and pulls back, rolling her eyes. “Except for last month? Don’t worry. I won’t take it personally. I just got you a job and a whole new life, but whatever, I’m not important enough to remember. I get it.” She looks me over. “You’re not even dressed yet? I thought we were doing breakfast, you ho.”

I wander to the couch and sink into it. The enormity of the last twenty-four hours is suddenly so heavy that standing feels like too much. Right now, even the task of convincing an old friend that I’m me—and not my sister pretending to be me—sounds like far too much effort. “I don’t think I’m up for food.”

“Oh, hell no. You’re not getting out of this.” She looks around the room. “My sister told me about pregnancy brain, but I always thought she was exaggerating. She’d stop in the middle of a sentence and have no idea what she’d been saying.”

I blink at her, momentarily tempted to pretend I’m my sister just to find out details. “You knew about the pregnancy?” Does she know about Veronica and Marcus too? Did everyone know but me?

She props her hands on her hips. “I’m trying not to be insulted, but you’re not making it easy. You can really be self-centered, girl. Where’s all your stuff? I’ll dress you myself if I have to.”

I point to my duffel. “That is all I have. And most of it isn’t appropriate for the cold. Why is it so freaking cold here? I feel like my bones are growing icicles.”

Her eyes go wide as she stares at my duffel. “Since when does Veronica Maddox pack light?”

Since I’m not Veronica. I take a deep breath, but instead of helping me relax, queasiness washes over me.


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