Make It Sweet Read Online Kristen Callihan

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Romance, Sports Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 117278 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
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“You want a drink?”

“No.” He glanced down at his hand and frowned, as though he was surprised to find himself holding the box. “This is for you.”

He held it out, which meant I had to get closer.

“Thank you.” My fingers felt numb as I reached for his offering. The box felt strangely light, which plucked at my curiosity, but I didn’t open it. I set it down and met Lucian’s troubled gaze instead.

“You had Sal find me, didn’t you?” I asked as the thought popped into my head.

He understood me perfectly, and a small wry smile pulled at his expressive mouth. “I did.”

“Just tell me one thing,” I said with due seriousness. “Am I still getting that dress? Or do I have to kill both of you?”

Lucian’s true smile broke free. “You’re still getting the dress.”

My answering grin spread like sunlight through my veins.

Lucian sucked in a sharp breath. “I missed that smile.”

He was not going to make me cry. “It’s only been a day.”

“Has it?” He stepped closer.

“A half a day at best,” I babbled, my heart beating frantically.

He kept coming, jade eyes warm but troubled. “It felt like a year.”

“Lucian . . .”

He stopped within touching distance. Close enough that I had to tilt my head to meet his gaze. Remorse filled his. “I wanted to protect you. I wanted to protect me.” His hand lifted and hovered, as though he wanted to touch my cheek but didn’t yet dare. “But it was too late.”

“Too late?” My mind had gone blank the moment he’d drawn near.

“Yeah,” he rasped, his fingertip drifting along the edge of my temple. “For me, at least. I started hurting the second I let you go, and I haven’t stopped.”

My lids fluttered closed as the words washed over me. But I’d been burned by his rejection too hard to proceed without caution. “Is that why you came here?”

“I came to ask if you would consider being with me. For however long we have. Just be with me.”

I swayed, wanting so badly to lean into him. “Despite the fact that our situations haven’t changed?”

“Yes.” He lowered his hand but didn’t move away. “This is real to me. I’m not messing around. I like you. A lot. I want you so much it hurts. And that scared the shit out of me.” He searched my face as his tone turned earnest. “It was so fast, so strong, I panicked, Em.”

A soft pulse of feeling went through me. “You think I’m not scared? I just got out of a shitty relationship with Greg the penis pimple.”

“Penis pimple?” he repeated, fighting a smile even though the air between us was still taut with uncertainty.

“Yes. And you just ended it with Cassandra the moron.”

“I’ll concede that Cassandra messed me up more than I’d thought. It’s unsettling to realize someone was with me solely for the fame, and I didn’t even notice or care.” He winced a little. “Made me reassess all my interactions with women.”

I didn’t blame him for that. Greg had done a number on me as well. The worst thing about someone destroying your trust was that it became harder to give it to someone new.

“And yet you still want to try this?” I wasn’t sure why I kept harping on it. I’d wanted to for so long. Part of me was yelling to shut the hell up. But I wanted him to be certain.

“Yes, Emma, I do.”

A hiccup lifted my chest. I liked those words. So much. “Even though we might fail spectacularly?”

“Did you miss the part where I said I ache for you? That today felt like a year? Em . . . you’re the first person who has made me smile since I retired. Even if I was still playing hockey, I’d want you. I am alive in a way I haven’t been before. My world is brighter, more real, when you’re in it. I was a fool to—”

I stepped into his space and wrapped my arms around his waist. “I missed you too. Today is already better now that you’re here.”

“Hell.” He caught me up in a hug so tight I felt it in my bones. But I didn’t care. His mouth pressed to the top of my head, and he breathed in before letting it out in a shuddering exhale. “Thank you.”

“For what?” I asked against the snug warmth of his chest.

Long fingers threaded through my hair, and he eased me back to smile down at me. “For being you.”

Then he kissed me. Soft, reverent, an apology. And it felt so good I lifted up on my toes, surging into the kiss. With a small grunt, he caught on fast, his head angling to kiss me deeper. Our tongues touched, a first taste. All our careful reserve melted, replaced by fraught, straining touches, licks, nips.


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