Read Romance: North: (Hot New Adult Bad Boy Romance, Alpha Male Rock Star Rebel Romance) (Contemporary Mystery and Romantic Suspense Short Stories) for Free Online Page A

approval. “So you’re really willing to let me stay here for a while?” Mary shrugged, kicking her shoes off and padding into the kitchen. I managed to get my shoes off as well, kicking my feet up onto the arm of the couch and sprawling over the length.
    “Until you can find somewhere equally safe, I don’t really see much choice,” Mary said from the other room. “I mean, what am I supposed to do? Let you put yourself in danger?” I heard movement from the kitchen: the fridge door opening, the clink of glasses, and the clatter of ice, liquid pouring. “Do you take milk? Sweetener?”
    “I’ll take it sweet, but no milk,” I called back. I looked up at the ceiling; after the shock of being kicked out of rehab, the prospect of my imminent demise was starting to filter through my mind. “You know, it’s weird,” I said, turning my head as I heard Mary coming back into the living room. “Without the stuff in my system, I think…” I paused, trying to figure out what it was I wanted to say. “I think clearer but also muddier. It doesn’t…” I shook my head and sat up.
    “A lot of people notice that,” Mary said, handing me a glass with pitch-black coffee and islands of ice. Her own coffee was a deep caramel tan, and for a moment I almost regretted my choice of no milk. But I didn’t like milk in my iced coffee; there was just something about the texture of it that made it so nasty. Mary sat in her armchair and took a long sip. “Your brain is used to working through the drugs; it has to re-learn how to operate without them.”
    “It’s like I don’t have any fucking filter anymore,” I said, looking around the room. I hadn’t noticed the line of bookshelves that hugged the wall, leading to the hallway that I assumed went to her room and the bathroom. “Is there more than one bedroom here?” I asked, looking at Mary once more. “Not—I mean—the couch is more than I deserve, but I’m just curious.” Mary laughed, and I wasn’t sure if she was laughing at the question or at my self-correction.
    “There’s another bedroom, but I mostly use it as a home office,” she said. “There is a futon in there, though. You can sleep in there if you want.”
    “This couch is pretty fucking comfy,” I pointed out. “I may not even get off of it for the next hour.”
    “Well you’re going to have to get up eventually. You need to get in touch with your band mates, your label, and whoever else needs to know you’re out of rehab,” Mary said, setting her glass down and looking at me with that level, matter-of-fact expression on her face that I both loved and hated.
    “Why do you always look like that?” I licked the lingering sweetness of the coffee off of my lips.
    “Like what?” Mary raised an eyebrow.
    “Like you know what I look like underneath my skin.”
    Mary’s dark eyes flashed with amusement. “I think you’re interpreting more in my face than I’m putting out,” she told me.
    “You just look like you know the fucking thoughts in my head.”
    “I watch people,” she said, looking into her glass for a moment, watching the ice shift as it melted. “I don’t know. It’s not…” I watched the color rising into her cheeks again. “I’m not purposely trying to make you feel uncomfortable.” Mary sighed, “I should probably get my laptop and start filing for unemployment.” Her lips twisted into a grimace of distaste.
    “Don’t let me get in your way,” I said, taking another big gulp of coffee and fumbling in my pocket for my phone. Mary was right; I needed to get in touch with people, let them know what was going on, where I was. It occurred to me that probably Dr. Farber had already notified my manager or the label—whoever he was reporting to—about the fact that I’d been kicked out of rehab. “I’m never going to hear the fucking end of this.” I sighed as I turned my phone on. “Go do your thing.” Mary gave me another one of those looks—as if she was