What They Don't Know (Won't Hurt Them Trilogy #1) Read Free Page A

But I don't. I don't quite understand
the pain he's experiencing. Why does this hurt him? He's sitting with
his back to me and his head in his hands. He shakes his head and gets
up from the bed.
    “Bria, I'm your best
friend.”
    “Bry, don't. Just
don't.” I jump from the left side of the bed and try to put
distance between us.
    “Bree, please.” He
grabs my elbow and spins me around to him. With my hand on his chest,
I try to push him away. He pushes my hand down and twists it behind
my back.
    “Stop, Bree, Stop!”
He grabs my chin and lifts it so I'm staring into his eyes. He pulls
me to him, and I close my eyes.
    “Look at me, Bria,
please.”
    “Bry, I can't. I just
can't.” He tightens the hold on my arm. He leans in closer, and I
can feel his warm breath on my lips. I turn away; and he pauses then
pulls back, looking down at me. “Bryant, I'm sorry. I can't.”
    He pushes me away with
disgust. “Like I said, unhealthy,” he states. He grabs his shirt
and leaves the room. The room is so quiet; and yet, all I can think
about is his cock was still hard, and I should know because I felt it
against my navel.

CHAPTER 2
    It's early Monday
morning, but not nearly early enough when I pry my face from my bed.
My pillows seem to have found their way to the floor. I guess my
restless sleep forced them off the bed and tangled the sheets around
my aching thighs. “This is fucking great. My best friend pulled a
dick strike, so the sexcapade weekend was an epic fail. If that's not
pathetic enough, I'm talking to myself and late for work.”
    I'm showered and
dressed in fifteen minutes. This day has to get better. I grab my
sunglasses from the visor for the drive. There's
no use being a total bitch to everyone because I'm late. I might as
well get my cup of wake up, I say to myself. I love this
café because it's not one of those big chains that ask you to become
a member to earn points you can't use. Coffee is still expensive.
Cocoa beans, heat dried, and fully fermented fatty bean of Theobroma
cacao. No wonder they preserve and package this shit. It's the crack
of all beans and has me jonesin' right now.
    Great! Found a parking
spot right in front. As I get out and power walk toward the café,
the door swings out and I jump because the weight of the door catches
me off guard. I stumble back a bit; but nothing to knock me off my
feet, until I catch a glimpse of the force behind the swinging door.
Six-two, casually dressed, strong chin and jawline, nice complexion,
swimmer’s body, hazel cat-like eyes.
    “Whoa, are you okay?”
he asks.
    “Yeah...Yes, I'm
fine. I should have been paying attention. I apol—”
    “True, but I always
make sure the lady is okay, first.”
    “Well, like I said, I
apologize,” I say, slightly irritated. “Chivalry is dead, I
guess,” I mumble walking away.
    “It is if you don't
know what to do with it,” he says in his low and husky voice.
    He did not just… ugh,
this day’s going to get better. Yep, better.
    I order a special blend
of Swiss almond with two shots of vanilla and I'm good to go. The
wind is blowing into my light pea coat and sending a chill down my
spine. I let out a little yelp and try to shake the slight frost off
when I notice the idiot who strong-armed the door as I came in
standing against a high table outside the café staring at me. I
think to myself, who in the hell
stands in 45-50 degree weather and drinks coffee?
    He laughs and places
his coffee on the table and his expression turns serious quickly.
    “What does that shake
look like when you're hot?”
    I don’t respond
verbally. I shake my head as I get in my car, whip out of the space
in front of the café, and make a U-turn in the middle of Broadway. I
can't believe that pervert. If I weren’t late, he
would have gotten a tongue-lashing . Knowing
him, he probably would have liked it. What
the heck? I don't know what this guy likes. Bree,
get it together . You’re
late and still talking to yourself .