On Dublin Street - By Samantha Young Page 0,82

over me and Braden, so I quickly changed the subject. “You haven’t said much about Adam lately.”

My roommate’s face fell and I wished I’d picked another subject to change my subject from. “We’ve barely spoken since that Sunday at Mum’s. I think he realized he was sending mixed signals so he’s just completely backed off.”

“I didn’t notice anything weird between you last Sunday when we were hanging out.”

“That’s because you were in Braden Land.”

I guffawed. “Yeah, okay.”

Ellie shook her head. “Delusional numpty.”

That was a new one. I couldn’t remember Rhian or James ever calling me that. “Did you just call me a numpty?”

“Yup. A delusional one.”

“What, may I ask, is a numpty?”

“A person demonstrating a lack of knowledge of a situation; a silly person; an idiot; a dumbass. A delusional numpty: Joss Butler’s stupid, idiotic, blind misconception of the true nature of her relationship with my brother, Braden Carmichael.” She glowered at me, but it was an Ellie glower so it didn’t really count.

I nodded my head. “Numpty. Good word.”

She threw a cushion at me.

***

When Thursday rolled around and I got a text from Braden to tell me he couldn’t make it that night, I have to admit to a teensy little bit of disappointment. I couldn’t admit to being hugely disappointed because I’d stuffed that emotion under my steel trap door. He was in the final stages of closing a deal on the development he’d been working on this summer so I understood. It didn’t mean it didn’t suck.

I dug deep and wrote the entire day away, amazed and gratified that I’d managed to write a few more chapters without having to open up the memories that were sure to send me back into the bathroom with a panic attack. Although, admittedly, I hadn’t had one of those since the epic attack last Friday.

Thursday night with no Braden to keep me busy, I let Denzel ease my pain with a Denzel Washington marathon. Ellie gave up two movies in and went to her bed. A few hours later I was out.

I woke up as I felt the world drop beneath me. “What?” I mumbled, my eyes trying to adjust to the dim light.

“Shh, babe,” Braden’s low voice rumbled above me, and I realized I was in his arms. “I’m putting you to bed.”

I sleepily wrapped my arms around his neck as he carried me towards my bedroom. “What are doing here?”

“Missed you.”

“Mmm,” I mumbled, burying deeper into him. “Missed you too.”

A second later I was out.

***

One minute I was dreaming the world was flooding, the water rising inside our apartment with no way out, my panic growing deeper and deeper as the water crept up towards the ceiling, leaving me waiting on imminent death, when a bolt of lust shot between my legs and I looked down to see a gorgeous merman’s head there. The water drained away in an instant and I was flat on my back with the faceless merman who was now just man and he was licking away at me with gusto.

“Oh God,” I breathed, sensation ripping through me and pulling me with it into consciousness.

My eyes flew open. I was in my bed. It was morning.

And Braden’s head was between my legs.

“Braden,” I murmured, relaxing against the mattress, my hands sliding into his soft hair. He had the most magical tongue.

My hips jerked as he sucked at my clit, his tongue circling it, his fingers sliding inside me. I lost control of my breathing, my heart pounding in my ears, and I was coming around his mouth in seconds.

Talk about a wake-up call.

My muscles sunk into the bed as Braden crawled up my body, his eyes smiling down at me as he braced himself above me. I could feel his hard on rub against my wet center. “Morning, babe.”

I caressed his waist, scoring my nails lightly across his skin in a way I knew he liked. “Morning to you, too. And what a happy morning it is.”

He laughed at my goofy grin and fell off me to lie at my side. I turned to check the clock but my eyes caught on the object on my desk. I bolted upright, staring at it, wondering if I was actually seeing right. I felt Braden at my back and his chin came down on my shoulder.

“Do you like it?”

A typewriter. A shiny, black, old-fashioned typewriter sat on my desk beside my laptop. It was beautiful. It was just like the one my mom had promised to

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