Forbidden With Me - Leigh Lennon Page 0,81

a brat you can’t live without,” she retorts.

I stare into her chocolate browns. She’s right. She’s what I need and crave in this world, and I’ll never tire of spending my life worshipping her for the soul mate she’s always been for me, even before I had been ready to admit it.

Chapter 32

Nine months later

Malia

“You’ve collected a lot of shit in less than a year, plus you have a fuck ton at my place, too,” Wells complains, walking into my dorm with boxes tucked into boxes.

“Yeah, and wait until I spread all my shit all over your place,” I tease, sidling up toward him, standing on my tiptoes to kiss his beautiful lips.

“Well, in a couple of hours, it’ll be our place, yours and mine.” His arms connect around me. “Come on, brat, let’s get you moved out in order to get you moved in.”

His eyes move toward Greenlyn’s empty side of the room. “She’s all moved out?”

I shrug my shoulders. I’ve missed my friend, and though she’d sleep here from time to time, she spent a lot of nights at her parents’ home, thirty miles from here, making the commute. “She and her man came last night to get the rest.”

“Do you think she’ll be okay?” Wells asks, my eyes full of tears at the nightmares which still plague her.

“She has someone who loves her very much in a short amount of time. He’s good for her. Her parents may not approve, but I think they’ll heal one another.”

We’d all been surprised when they started dating, but it made sense in a way, since she likes bad boys. “Anyway, like Georgia, she’ll never get rid of me.”

He begins to choke, a devilish smile forming on his face. “Oh, wait, do we have a choice—getting rid of Georgia?”

I playfully slug him, as he whimpers, “Mal, babe, you hit harder than you think.”

“You big old baby,” I tease back, thinking of Wells and Georgia. They have a love-hate relationship, always teasing and goading the other, but that’s just Georgia.

“Oh, you’d be lost without her, especially with her transferring to the university here,” he moans, but because he loves me, he knows I’ll be happy with her so close. Plus, there’s been a particular friend of ours who’s been a little too interested in the redheaded wonder we know as Georgia Nancy.

“Enough about all our friends, let’s get you moved because the sooner we get you to our home, the sooner I can get you naked and fuck you senseless.”

“You promise?” I ask.

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” he replies, and it’s all I need to hear, knowing one day, we’ll have the family I’ve always wanted.

Epilogue

Six Years Later

Wells

“Violet Ann, Lilly Grace, let’s get going, sweethearts. We’re going to be late.”

“Daddy, Vi telling me I can’t like purpa. She can only like purpa since that colla her name.”

Violet runs down the steps, decked out in various shades of purple.

“I mean,” Violet says in the most composed tone for a three-year-old, “that lilly flowas are white or pink, she pick other colla and leave my name colla alone.” Both girls could speak sentences at one-year-old.

Her doppelganger stomps down the stairs, and no one can tell the twins apart besides their mom and me. Even Greenlyn and Georgia, after all the times they have babysat, can’t.

“Lil, honey, you pick whatever color you like, right, Vi?” I ask, and my feisty little one folds her hands at her chest with a scowl on her face, so much like her mama.

“Daddy, I tell, all time, I don’t like Vi.”

And because I love to tease her, like her mom, I do it just to see the little pout on her face. A loud-pitched scream from behind me garners all our attention when Lilly makes her way to her brother, who’s already buckled in his carrier car seat, letting us know not to forget about him.

“It otay, my baby. Sissy got you.” Lilly has a little more of my temperament, and thank fuck for that because two like Violet would have me pulling out my hair.

“Thanks, sweetheart, for rocking Martin.” When it came time to name our six-month-old, there was no other choice than to use her father’s name. We decided on a middle name to honor the family who has taken us in as theirs. Martin Montgomery Shanahan is an easy baby, so much easier than the twins ever were. And it’s not because there is only one of him; he’s just so laid-back in comparison.

“Rocking