Moth to a Flame Read Online K. Webster

Categories Genre: Billionaire, Contemporary, Dark, New Adult Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 57943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
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A knock on the door signaled me that Sam had arrived. After peeking to check that it was him, I released all three locks and opened the door.

“Hey,” he greeted as he hesitantly held out some roses to me. “These are for you.”

“Wow. Roses. How sweet,” I gushed as I accepted the flowers. “Let me put these in some water before we go.” I ushered him in and then walked towards the kitchen.

I couldn’t help but feel a teeny bit creeped out that he’d brought roses to our ‘friend’ dinner. Normal women didn’t complain when they were given roses. I needed to get my insecurities and fears in check if I had any desire at all to enjoy myself this evening. Sam was just trying to be a gentleman.

After I got the flowers into water, we headed out the door in silence. Sam opened up the car door for me and waited until I was tucked into the car before closing it behind me. He hopped into the driver’s seat and turned to look at me as he started the engine.

“You look absolutely stunning tonight, Lia.” He smiled, pinning me with his intense gaze until I felt the need to look away.

“Thanks,” I murmured as I stroked Cale’s business card through my jeans. Knowing it was there oddly gave me comfort as this completely awkward night began.

I SAT IN my truck thinking about what had happened with Lia just moments earlier. For someone who seemed dead set against dating, it felt like her heart had other ideas. That girl had some serious issues going on, and I intended to fix whatever made her that way—whether she wanted me to or not. I felt I would need a lot of patience with this girl.

That kiss.

That kiss was crazy, fucking amazing.

She’d felt perfect in my arms. Again, it felt like she was always supposed to be there with me, even if I was a recovering fuck-up.

Dad had always had the most impossible expectations for me. I hadn’t been able to just play football in high school—I’d had to be the star. My grades hadn’t been okay by just passing—they’d had to be perfect. Even my social life had been scripted and revolved around hanging out with my dad’s friends’ kids. He never acknowledged when I did well, just kept pointing to the future. Not my future, his.

I wasn’t the only one he’d done this to. My poor mother had tried to live up to his impossible expectations all the time. The roast was never moist enough. His shirts weren’t pressed like he preferred them. So, to me, it hadn’t come as a surprise when she’d run off with her personal trainer, never looking back at either of us. My dad, however, had not only been shocked and embarrassed, but he had been absolutely furious that she’d left him of all people. Unfortunately for me, I became front and center at that point for him to focus on.

My senior year, I met Madison. She didn’t come from Dad’s circle of friends and was what he considered “trash.” We began an unlikely friendship: prom king and goth queen. Madison didn’t give two shits about what anyone thought and stomped around in those damned combat boots she wore like she was crushing those who could never understand her underfoot. She cussed like a sailor, failed most of her classes, and smoked her cigarettes all over campus like she owned the fucking place. And I loved her for it.

When I wasn’t pleasing Dad with football, school, and “approved” socializing, I was sneaking out with Madison, tagging buildings, and shooting the shit. Madison grew up poor with a shit-for-brains father who’d gotten his ass sent to prison when she was fourteen for sticking up the local 7-Eleven. Her mother was a workaholic at the local diner but pretty emotionally handicapped when it came to connecting with her only daughter. Madison was a very lonely person—but then again, so was I. We enjoyed each other’s presence because we were exactly what the other needed at the time.

After graduation, we spent our last summer smoking all the weed we could find and drinking cheap whiskey. We spent nearly every night lying in the field behind her house. But whenever I would ask her what her plans were for while I was away playing football in college, she would blow me off with a wave of her black-fingernail polished hand. However, she did talk a lot about afterlife. Madison was goth after all. There were many nights she’d tell me that, when she died, she was going to come back as a mean-ass cat. She’d have a happy life of catnip and naps. I thought she just liked the idea of clawing people for the fun of it.

On the last night before I had to leave for college, Madison grabbed my hand. With tears in her eyes, she told me, “I’m just a ghost of a person. You’re the only one who sees me, Cale. When I move on one day, don’t forget me. Put your badass dad in his place because you deserve a life that you choose for yourself. Find a girl that, when you find her, you’ll never want to let her go. Find what makes you happy, Cale. I love you.”


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