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Read Online Books/Novels:

Forbidden Love (Forbidden Trilogy #2)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

S.R. Watson

Book Information:

Siobhan is starting her last semester at USC. After the horrific ending of the previous semester, she is determined to keep her head down, graduate, and get as far from Los Angeles and Grayson as possible. However, the best-laid plans don’t always come to fruition.

Grayson is finally ready to admit his feelings for Siobhan. Some of his secrets have been exposed, but the surface has barely been scratched. Will he lose Siobhan once and for all once his omissions and secrets are out in the open?

Neither Grayson nor Siobhan is prepared for the multitude of barriers, challenges, and danger headed their way. Once the smoke clears, will their love prevail or will it smolder in the ashes?

Books in Series:

Forbidden Trilogy Series by S.R. Watson

Books by Author:

S.R. Watson Books

My mother taught me about the power of inspiration and courage, and she did it with a strength and a passion that I wish could be bottled.

~ Carly Fiorina

I lay here literally and metaphorically broken, listening to my mom give Liam shit in the living room. He is here to visit again like he does every day. My mom tells him to limit his visit to an hour because I need my rest. Yeah right. That’s all I’ve been doing is fucking resting. Jordan is away on some family retreat over winter break so my visitors are limited. I had plenty of family and old friends come by when I first came home, but people have since returned to the normalcy of their own lives. Without Liam, I would be going stir crazy. My mom still hasn’t forgiven him for cheating and breaking my heart, but we’re trying to work on our friendship. Neither Liam nor my mom, know about Grayson or our failed relationship; if you can call it that. I was his fuck buddy that he grew bored with. They don’t know about my stalker either. They would go ape shit and go into overprotective mode. I did call Officer Richards last week to tell him the truth about the phone calls. They’re looking into it. I haven’t had any anonymous calls since I got home so for now, I’m trying not to think about it. Liam comes in carrying pupusas in a Styrofoam container. He introduced me to this Salvadoran goodness earlier this week. They are tortillas filled with cheese, pork, and refried beans. I love them.

“Hurry and give them to me,” I demand jokingly. I reach for them, but he moves the container out of my reach before I can grab it.

“Nope. What do you say?” He taunts.

“Please. Now give them to me before I hurt you.” I give him a megawatt smile that is supposed to convey that I’m plotting my vengeance.

“You couldn’t leave it at please,” he jokes. “Hurt me? I’m so scared. You can barely get out of bed. Besides who do you think will bring you more of these hot commodities if you hurt me?” He has a point.

“Fine.” I love our banter. It serves as a solace from the heartache I feel when I’m alone with my thoughts and memories. He hands me the container and sits on the corner of my bed.

“How are you feeling today?” he asks, turning our conversation serious. I try to portray the picture of happiness, but every now and then I back pedal into depression and it shows. Everyone thinks it’s because of my accident and having limited mobility. I don’t tell them any differently.

“A little better. I’ve reduced my intake of pain meds so that’s something.” He cocks his head to the side and eyes me suspiciously—probably sensing there’s more that I’m not sharing, but he is unsure what.

“Okay. Well, that’s good,” he replies not totally convinced. He gets up and grab a few board games from my closet. “So which game shall we play today?” My choices are Scrabble, Monopoly, and Checkers. I choose Checkers because I know that it is secretly his favorite. His face lights up at my choice and I can’t help but laugh. Needless to say, he goes over the hour time limit my mother has for him. When she comes in to run him off, my eyes plead with hers to let him be. We play several games before I finally give up on the idea of trying to catch up to his number of wins. He puts everything away when my mom brings dinner in. He waves his good-bye and tells me he will see me the same time tomorrow. I don’t miss the not-so-subtle eye roll that my mom gives him, but he does.

“That boy is still in love with you,” she warns when he leaves.

“We’re just friends Mom.” I let out a deep breath. She doesn’t realize just how appreciative I am of that friendship right now. “That chapter of our lives is over, but there is no reason we can’t be great friends,” I reason.

“Just be careful,” she says before leaving me alone with my dinner. I devour the chicken breast and brussel sprouts. After the meal I had earlier, this is flavorless in comparison, but I know I need to balance my meals with the healthy stuff. Especially since, I’m not getting much activity. My ass really will have its own zip code. After my meal, I get ready for bed. I’m alone with my misery again and it sucks. Another day down and will reset tomorrow. It’s a slow recovery, but I’m making strides. I turn out the lights and get into bed. This cast is a pain in the ass to sleep in, but I manage.

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