Made For You (Made For #2) Read Online Natasha Madison

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Made For Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 86068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
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“Maybe he’s wanted by the mob,” Wilson suggests and Franny just looks over at him.

“You need to stop hanging around with the men in my family,” she huffs.

“Maybe he’s on the run because he killed his family and drove across country with his wife’s head on top of his—” He opens his mouth and she puts her hand over it.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Franny asks. “You really need to lay off those crime podcasts.”

“You are both literally insane,” I inform them. “He doesn’t look like a killer. Nor does he look like he’s running away from the mob.”

“How the hell would you know?” they both say at the same time.

“I don’t know, but I’m assuming if he is one of those things, would he be on a boat?” I look from Franny too Wilson.

“Of course he would,” Wilson snaps out as he slaps the table. “No one is going to find you.” He smirks at me. “Have you told your father yet?”

“No,” I retort, “there is no need to tell him anything.” I point my finger to the screen. “I swear to God, if either of you tell him even one word.” I glare. “I will cut you.”

“And you wonder why he’s not talking to you.” Franny laughs. “Seriously though, Vi, are you really staying on that boat?”

“Yes,” I tell them both. “Why wouldn’t I stay on my boat?”

“Well, for one, you have a serial killer who is wanted by the mob living next to you,” Wilson says. “And—and”—his voice starts to rise a bit—“if your father finds that out…poof.” He puts his hands to his head and pretends his head explodes.

“My father is not going to find out anything,” I assure him. “Because, well, one, he’s not a serial killer but maybe he’s wanted by the mob.” I put my hand on my lips. “Or maybe Snow White has lost one of her men and he lives next door to me.” I look at Franny, who tries to roll her lips to stop from laughing. “Did I tell you he got pissed off that I bought him an apple pie?” Franny gasps. “I know!” I shriek. “Who doesn’t love apple pie?”

“I’m more of a blueberry kind of guy myself,” Wilson says.

I glare at him. “No one asked you,” I hiss between clenched teeth. “Now I’m going to take a nice hot shower and then…”

“You are going to lock the doors, and do you have a stick?” Wilson asks me and I just look at him, confused. “You put it behind the bottom of the sliding door. It makes it impossible to slide open.” He folds his arms over his chest as if he just told me the biggest secret. “What?” he asks me, and Franny laughs. “You know that trick.”

“We learned that when we were five.” I hold up my hand. “It was part of the summer fun program we took about being safe.” Wilson laughs now. “Anyway, I’ll be fine.”

“Do you even have an alarm?” Franny asks me and I shake my head.

“No, but you can’t get in here unless you have a key for the gate,” I reassure her, “so it’s safe.”

“Yeah, and no one can climb a gate,” Wilson says, rolling his eyes.

“Goodbye.” I press the red button and disconnect them. I get up off the bed and walk toward the sliding door. I make sure to lock it, looking outside one more time, the smile still stuck on my face.

I avoid looking at the boat next to me. Instead, I check and make sure the door is closed before bringing the shades together. I walk to my bedroom, starting the shower before undressing. Once I finish the shower, I slip on blue-and-white pj bottoms with the matching long-sleeved shirt. I make my way back to the kitchen where I eat apple pie straight from the box. I grab a bottle of water, walking back to my bedroom and slipping into bed. I check my phone and see that sunrise is at five ten. I set my alarm for four forty-five. Putting the phone under the pillow beside me, I grab the remote and turn on the little TV that is on the right side of the bed.

I don’t even know what I put on, all I do is put my head down, and in a matter of minutes I’m asleep. I sleep like a baby, only waking when the soft alarm fills the room. With my eyes still closed, I reach under the pillow where I know the phone is. I take it out and shut off the alarm, turning onto my back. The television is still playing when I open my eyes. I look out the window, seeing it’s still dark outside. I flip the covers off me, walking to the kitchen to start my coffee before going back to my room and the bathroom. “I’m definitely going to have to nap today,” I mumble to myself as I grab my phone.



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