Truly Madly Deeply (Forbidden Love, #1)

by L.J. Shen

What had I been thinking, showing up outside her window like a lovesick puppy in a goddamn nineties outfit? I hadn’t been, of course. It was my dick that ha...

Point of the matter was, I had done something selfless for someone who wasn’t an immediate family member. And that was…unsettling.

I’d done good deeds before, but I had never gone out of my way to make them happen. Giving a shit was dangerous. It led to all kinds of issues. And I had a history of giving Cal whatever she wanted without asking for anything in return.

Then there was my retroactive love declaration. What the fuck was that all about? I wasn’t in love with her anymore, but ...

I mentally wrote it down on a blackboard a thousand fucking times, à la Bart Simpson. You don’t like her. You don’t like her. You don’t like her. But I did. Both Cal and Bitchy. A lot.

want?” I made a pit stop at our chef pâtissier’s station to let her know the raspberries looked older than an IHOP early-bird customer. Taylor was glued to my side.

He was allergic to routine, and I was allergic to…humans, I guess. Speak of the devil, my best friend rushed into

“Do I look like a doctor? Ask them,” I said slowly. “Or better yet, call an ambulance. We don’t need another Usher lawsuit.” “First of all—OSHA. Second, I wanted you to know because—”

How had she cut her forehead? What the hell had she done now? Bang her head against a steak knife as a party trick? Had someone hurt her? A man?

“How is she doing?” I was foaming at the mouth. Now was a good time to admit to myself that I did give a shit. Lots of shits, if I was being honest. An entire fucking sewer.

“Supremely mature. Also a bit rich, coming from you right now. I could fill up an entire Olympic pool with your sweat. Chill the fuck out.” “It’s hot in the kitchen.” Had we always had five thousand stairs?

“You’re used to the kitchen heat. It’s the Cal heat that throws you off-balance. Shit,”

“…all I’m saying is that objections at weddings exist solely to make the lives of overworked scriptwriters easier. Like, when did anyone ever oppose a wedding in real life? Also, the legalities of a marriage are established when you apply for a wedding license. Look, don’t get me wrong, the While You Were Sleeping objection scene was epic, no complaints here, but when you think about it—”

relationships. Imagine caring for someone, then letting them wander the world, exposed to all kinds of shit? This girl was prone to dying from her klutziness. That she had lived this long was a miracle.

Cal’s enormous, cloudless-sky eyes peered back at me, soot-lashed and innocent. “Duh. I was there when it happened.”

mean, you’re always pretty, but today you are extra pretty. Extraprettinery.”

“Does it hurt?” I croaked. Since when was I croaking? I was a grunter, a groaner, a bellower, sometimes. Not a croaker.

“I am!” she said brightly. “Oh, that reminds me, I need to refill my iron prescription. I haven’t done that”—she scrunched her forehead, and the bleeding started again—“in three years or so. How’d you know anyway?”

“She picked up on my Golden Retriever energy.”

“Now that’s an image for my spank bank.”

Her eyebrows shot to her hairline in response.

“You know, easily, as per usual.” She focused on a point on the ceiling to brave the burn that came from the dry blood gluing her skin and the cloth together. “I was running to get one of the patrons the wine menu—”

“In open spaces. Away from sharp objects. With a fucking helmet, preferably.”

Way to charm her pants off, Casablancas, Rhyland’s voice chortled in my head. I’m sure she’s seconds away from printing out your wedding invitations.

“It’s not even how I fell, okay?” She tapered her eyes. “I was trying to show Katie I...

I didn’t know whether to laugh or bash my own head against the wall. Fuck. Why was she so unapologe...

“Beautiful,” I admitted dispassionately. I was an asshole, not a liar.

Her lips quirked into a tired smile, and she pressed her cheek into my palm. “Hello, McMonster. Nice to have you back.” “You never lost me.” “You’re only saying that because you’re hopelessly in love with me.” “Don’t make me kill you.”

“Well, it’s cheesier than a deep-dish pizza.” She tried hard not to laugh. “I think I finally found something you’re bad at. You’re terrible at flirting.”

“That’s because I’ve never had to work very hard to get women to fall into my bed,” I said, not an ounce of cockiness in my voice. “You’re ruining my stats.”

For the first time in years, I experienced a moment of true happiness. It revolted and alarmed me.

“Hmm, you, Mr. Stickler.”

“Kitchen can go fu—” I stopped, realizing Rhy’s lips were a breath away from forming a shit-eating grin.

“How is bumming a ride with Kieran unsafe?” “He looks like a substance abuser.” Row slipped on his flight jacket. Laughter spluttered from my mouth. “No, he doesn’t. As a professional soccer player, he gets tested for drugs all the time.” “Those panels don’t check for mushrooms.” “You’re reaching.” “Yeah, the end of my fucking patience. You don’t like being with men in a private setting, remember?”

the dandruff of snow feathering the ground. I stuck my tongue out in delight and caught a few flakes.

We’d run outside and make Minecraft-inspired snowmen.

The first few minutes were spent in silence. I tried to keep my mouth shut. We both needed a second to wrap our heads around what had just happened today. Do not start a conversation. Do not. No matter how much you want his words. And his smiles. And…fine, even his frowns.

His jacket oozed warmth that seeped right into my bones.

“You can’t do that. You only have a shirt on,” I protested, only to have him rip the beanie from his head and slam it over mine, rolling it down. “Here, that’s better.” He said that because

It was ridiculous, but I knew arguing would bring us nowhere—he was a Taurus, for crying out loud—so I quickened my pace.

Pink stained his high cheekbones. He looked like fan art of a fantasy villain.

made snooty, bitchy Allison worthy of being his ex-girlfriend—other than the banal stuff, like how she was a knockout, smart, ambitious, and had a killer wardrobe and, oh, an actual career.

“Secrets are burdensome. Maybe I want you to carry some of my baggage.” Maybe I’ve been wanting to tell McMonster for a while now.

“Heaven better buckle up.” He treaded in that direction, giving me his back. “Because the devil’s about to drop in for a visit.”

“Now all that’s missing is a stolen bottle of your dad’s Tito’s!” I howled into the night, a cloud of condensation rolling through my lips.

tiny part of a trillion-piece puzzle that neatly fit into this universe.

“Start from the beginning. What happened that made you stop running and swear off humans?” He swished the clear liquid in his mouth. “Who did this to you?” “Sure you want to find out?” “How else would I know who to kill?”

“I was bullied at school.” The words rolled off my tongue without prior consent from my brain.

“Why didn’t you tell your folks sandals and socks don’t go together? That you prefer jelly and sunflower butter on your sandwich?” Row’s thick eyebrows slammed together angrily.

dark. He stared at me wordlessly, and in that moment, it did feel like I was unloading my baggage onto his broad shoulders.