It’s All You (MARS FITNESS) by Linden Bell EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Linden Bell
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
GAVIN
New York City in the middle of January might be the grossest place on
earth. It’s cold and wet. The streets are covered in gray slush and puddles
that have no bottom. Subway stations are suffocatingly hot and humid,
especially when you’re already bundled up in a dozen layers. I’ve been in
the city for ten years and I will never, ever get used to it.
Bursting through the door into the lobby of my apartment building is
such an unbelievable relief. It’s warm, but not too warm. It’s dry and clean,
and most importantly, it’s home. The shower is calling my name. Then my
bed. I can’t wait to be dead to the world for the next five hours before I
have to get up and go to work again.
I collapse against the wall of the elevator and my eyes slide shut as the
car rumbles up the building. Would it be bad if I fell asleep here? I could
curl into a ball in the corner—there’d be plenty of room for other people
who need to use the elevator. Not that there are many people around at this
time of night.
The doors open and spit me out before I’m fully unconscious, so I guess
that’s a no to sleeping in the elevator. My chin is heavy on my chest and my
eyes are little more than slits as I stumble toward my apartment at the end
of the hallway. I stop before I get there, though, and suddenly every ounce
of drowsiness evaporates at the sight in front of me.
My pulse races, adrenaline rushing through my veins. My vision zeros
in on the man sitting on the carpet, long legs extended out in front of him,
back against my door. My heart lurches in my chest like it’s a magnet being
drawn to its missing pair. “Beau?”
He stares back at me with eyes that are as big as mine must be. He looks
good. A little haggard, perhaps, with his hair standing up on end and bags
under his eyes. The lingering baby face from high school has long melted
into a strong, stubbled jaw. The muscles on his shoulders and arms aren’t
quite as pumped as they were when he was on the football team, but there’s
no mistaking their solid definition.
This can’t be real. I must be dreaming. Hallucinating. The long hours in
the office have finally gotten to me and my brain is conjuring up fantasies
to compensate.
“Gavin.”
My knees go a little weak at the sound of my name on his lips. His
voice is low and gravelly, scraping over my skin all raw and unvarnished.
I’ve always loved the way he says my name. I guess the years haven’t
changed that.
He climbs to his feet, his movements slow and labored, and when he
straightens, his shoulders stay slumped in on themselves. That’s when I
notice the red shooting through the whites of his eyes, the way his jaw is
clenched tight, his hands curled into fists by his side.
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