Compassion – The Extended (The Compassion #1) Read Online Xavier Neal

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Compassion Series by Xavier Neal
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Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
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She gleefully claps. “That’s a brilliant idea!”

“Clapping doesn’t make it true.”

“And frowning doesn’t make it not true.”

My lips press tightly together to prevent from spewing another word.

“Look, if it were totally up to me, you wouldn’t do anything. You would just accept all the help I’m trying to give because I care about you, move your shit into one of the spare rooms, and make yourself at home however you saw fit, but we both know your clouded conscience – for some reason – won’t allow that, so this is an alternative solution. We both get what it is we really want, which is you out of the cold, safe, and somewhere I can find you when I need you.”

Warmth rapidly spreads throughout my chest. “Need me?”

“Want you.”

The heat swiftly moves to lower regions as I ask, “Want me?”

“Err…um…” Her face starts twitching and cringing in winces while searching for more appropriate phrasing I honestly hope she never finds. “You uh…you know what I mean.”

I’m not sure that I do.

But I’m not sure that I want to.

She shouldn’t get attached to me.

Just like I shouldn’t get attached to her.

And yet I’m pretty sure we both already are.

Why didn’t you stop this shit from happening?!

Tightening my grip on the cart, I cautiously investigate, “For how long?”

“How about we don’t try to eat the whole elephant at once? How about we take it one bite at a time?”

“Who the fuck eats elephants?”

“Lions. Hyenas. Crocodiles. They all go after baby elephants or the sick ones in the herd.”

“Why do you know that?”

“I know a lot of random things about a lot of things. It’s a blessing and a curse of reading so much.”

Offering her a warm grin can’t be helped. “Just a blessing, sweetheart.”

The faintest amount of red touches her cheeks prior to her adding, “Anyway, the phrase isn’t about actually eating elephants. It’s just something my dad has always said to me about dealing with big problems or issues. It’s something his dad said to him. And his dad said to him. And something I hope to say to my own kids someday.”

“You will.”

My reassurance is met by a bashful grin.

What? She will. I didn’t correct her to say our kids, which would be a reason to blush. Huh? No, I don’t think we’ll have kids together someday. Fuck, I don’t even think we’ll be friends longer than a couple days. Clearly, you’re just as insane as she might be.

After ditching the organizing area, we grab the aforementioned oil and a couple of other house maintenance items I think we might need for this arrangement. Meandering through the book section is next with both of us grabbing a couple new books. Jaye grabs fiction novels – one romance, one young adult contemporary – and I grab two non-fiction – one autobiography, one biography. Eventually, we find ourselves in the food selection, the area we should’ve been in long before now. I do the best I can encouraging to grab items she likes or wants only to be met by the insistence we both pick out things. From what I gather by the comments she makes, this is new. Typically, she has always bought what Chris wanted. Liked. Preferred. And when he didn’t have a preference, she either didn’t get it or referred to her mother’s choice. Repeatedly hearing how she’s lost her capability to choose even the simplest things hurts in unpredicted ways.

Maybe because I hate how it sounds like she was bullied into being someone she’s not.

Or maybe because I’ve lost my own ability to have choices too due to survival needs.

Both? You think it’s both.

Our cart gets overrun with what I believe to be more than we need and during the check-out process, the jaw-dropping bill just further confirms it. I do my best to casually insist we can put some things back to which Jaye playfully brushes off to me and the cashier. My attempting to assist in bagging the items is also blocked by my new landlord yet before leaving the building she manages to get an application for the store that swears they’re always hiring.

Her victorious strutting back to the car is equally irritating and sexy.

She should always have this much confidence to her.

She’s brilliant and kind and curvier than a 1962 Tuxedo Black Chevrolet Corvette.

Still.

I don’t enjoy having someone rub their triumph in my face.

Definitely not when I want them rubbing something else in my face if you catch my drift. And yeah, I know I have no business fantasizing about that especially now that we’re going to be living together. Holy fuck, we’re going to be living together.

“No, Jaye,” I firmly state after a small chuckle. “We’re not ordering in. You just dropped a shit ton of money on food. We’re gonna cook it.”

“But grocery shopping is so exhausting,” she continues to good naturedly whine while spinning on her heels to face me again. “It takes so. Much. Energy. I really don’t think I have any left for cooking, which is why having Dos Mamas delivered is the only solution to that problem.”


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