Landon – Cerberus MC Series Read Online Marie James

Categories Genre: M-M Romance, MC, Romance, Sports Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)

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Landon - Cerberus MC Series

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Marie James

Book Information:

He ruined a lifelong friendship the night he kissed me.
I spent the next three years avoiding him. Well… I tried at least.
With my dad being a member of the Cerberus MC and his dad married to one of the members it was virtually impossible.
Just like it was impossible to keep from watching his mouth when he spoke. The same went for staring at his hands and remembering how they felt on my skin that night.
Senior year of college, after years of keeping our distance, we ended up in the same dorm room.
Avoiding him now is no longer an option…
Landon is a bi-awakening, best friends to enemies to lovers novel.
Books by Author:

Marie James



Junior Year of High School

“Fat freaking chance,” I say, side-eyeing my best friend Landon. “She’s the most popular girl in school.”

“And I’m the hottest guy at school,” he says with a quick laugh.

“Never short on confidence,” I mutter, gaining another chuckle from him.

I don’t know when I started to crave his smiles, when the man climbing out of my car became the only person I could see. It was a gradual shift, starting with a desire to spend all of my time with only him, despite the rather large group of friends we have at school. Before long, I was desperate for his time, perfectly content to just sit in silence with him so long as he was close enough to reach out and touch.

I didn’t, though.

Touch, that is.

Regardless of the fantasies that keep me warm at night, crossing that line with him would destroy the lies I’ve lived with for many years.

I don’t hide the fact that I’m gay from my friends. I haven’t sat my dad down and told him face-to-face that I much prefer boys over girls, but the man is a detective for the Farmington Police Department. I’m certain he’s noticed the lack of girls calling or showing up at my house.

My lies… or the biggest one I should say, is that I’m madly in love with my best friend.

My straight best friend.

As if anyone around us needs that clarification. The boy is only so confident because he’s absolutely right. He’s the hottest guy at school. The girls fawn over him so much, I practically gag at the strength of their perfume. The older guys, even the seniors, go to him for advice when it comes to the fairer sex.

His machismo knows no bounds, but I know a lot of it’s for show. For as many times that he’s made out with girls and rounded second base, he’s a little scared to cross that final line despite a line of girls willing to be under him.

In my mind, in those fantasies I’ve stopped trying to push down, Landon is saving himself for me.

I said I was in love, not that I’m completely sane when it comes to him.

“Keira Hargrove isn’t one of your groupies,” I remind him as we climb out of my car.

“She’s just playing hard to get.”

I stop him with a hand on his arm in the middle of my driveway. “Don’t be a misogynistic prick.”

“I’m not,” he says with a grin that’s dangerous enough to make my head spin.

Do not look at his mouth.

Those six words have become my mantra in recent months. These unrequited feelings have honestly become the bane of my existence. I hate that I feel this way about him because I know I have no damn chance.

“Come on,” he urges, walking away and breaking the contact I have on his arm. “I’m starving. Maybe Sophia made dinner.”

“She’s not the greatest cook,” I remind him as I climb the front porch stairs.

Absently, I glance toward the porch light, making a mental note to change the bulb after we eat. Dad would have a fit if he knew I came home, noticed it was out, and didn’t take the time to correct the issue.

Stepping to the side, Landon lets me enter first, and the heat of his body at my back serves as a distraction for a single blink, but then my mouth falls open when my hormone-riddled brain catches up to what I’m seeing.

I look at my best friend, needing him to verify that I’m not losing my mind, and watch as his jaw clenches.

I grip his arm, terrified, both of the defiance in his eyes and the man standing in the middle of the living room with a gun pointed in our direction.

“Get inside and close the fucking door,” the man snarls.

I urge Landon further into the house, the door closing behind us, sounding more final than it ever has before.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” I beg, both to the unwanted man in my home and my best friend.

Where I’m calm and collected, normally taking my time to assess a situation and think of multiple outcomes before acting, Landon is quick to react without thinking things through.

Grumbling comes from beside the man.

I gasp, somehow just now noticing my dad’s girlfriend Sophia tied to a chair with a gag in her mouth.

Her eyes are red rimmed and swollen, tears steadily streaking down her face.

“You’re making a huge mistake,” Landon says, barely keeping the snarl from his voice.

“Probably,” the man says, lifting his free arm to wipe under his nose.

He’s high as a kite. With a cop for a dad, I learned early on just what this man’s twitchiness and pinpoint eyes mean. I know the drugs coursing through his system will make him impulsive, unable to see reason, and easily angered when he doesn’t get his way.