Something So Unscripted Read Online Natasha Madison (Something So #4)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Drama, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Something So Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
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“It’s okay,” she says, looking at me. “As a doctor, you learn to sleep even sitting up if you have to.”

I chuckle. “The car is waiting outside,” I tell her. When she stands, I lean in to grab Jack from her, putting his head on my shoulder and watching her walk out before me. “Did you drive here?”

“No”—she shakes her head—“I was going to go to the bar with Vivienne after the game, but she was a no-show. I’m going to just take a cab.” She walks with me down the almost empty hallway.

“We’ll give you a ride to your house,” I tell her. “Max would kick my ass if I made his sister take a cab. Besides”—I look over at her—“I couldn’t possibly do that. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be home already.”

She shrugs and looks down and then up at me again. “I had the best night ever, so we can call it even.”

“Agreed,” I say, pushing the door open and seeing the Lincoln Town Car waiting for us, “after I drop you off safe and sound.”

She rolls her eyes, walking to the car. “Fine.” She walks to the other side of the car while the driver holds the back door open for us. I bend down to get in as she opens the back door, sliding in next to Jack’s car seat. I place Jack in his car seat, trying not to wake him, and he sleeps through me buckling his seat belt.

“Marco,” I say when the driver returns to his seat, “we are driving Ms. Horton home first.”

“No problem,” he says. “Where to?” She gives him the address and then turns to look at me.

“That was a good game,” she says.

“First goal was my fault. I got caught up and left my man open,” I tell her, knowing exactly where I fucked up.

“I don’t think you can take all the blame. It’s a team effort,” she says. “You win together, you lose together.”

I laugh at her. “Spoken like a true supporter.”

“My earliest memories were of the arena. Mom usually let Max take me with him.”

“His own personal cheerleader?” I ask her, smiling, and she just smiles back at me.

“I guess so,” she says, and the car stops in front of a loft building. “This is me,” she says softly. “Thank you so much for the lift,” she says and then leans over and kisses Jack on the forehead. “See you soon,” she says, getting out and closing the car door behind her softly. Marco waits for her to get inside before he drives away.

I close my eyes, basking in the calmness of the night. We’ve been here about two weeks, and not once has Chantal tried to call Jack, not once has he asked for her, and not fucking once did she try. Yet thirty minutes with Jack, and Denise was protecting him. Fuck, it could have been five seconds, and I have no doubt she would protect him with her life.

Growing up, my mother was a stay-at-home mom. The mom who would bake cookies for the class, make homemade Play-Doh, and come in and read with the class. Never not once did she not hold my hand when she got the opportunity. Even when I turned thirteen, she would come sit with me before bed, and I would talk to her about anything and everything. There was no mistaking the love she had for me. It’s the only thing that I wished for whatever children I had, and I thought that Chantal was that person, but I was wrong. I was so wrong.

But in the end, he has me, and I will do whatever I need to do to make sure he doesn’t feel like he’s missing anything. The car comes to a stop, and I open my eyes, unsnapping the car seat from the car. I carry him in my arms attached to the seat, trying not to wake him. “Night, Marco,” I tell him, walking up the steps toward the front door. I struggle with opening the door and holding the seat and Jack in my arms.

I finally make it inside and to his room, undressing him and tucking him in. “Night, buddy,” I say to him and walk out, leaving the door open. Untying my tie, I shrug out of my jacket and make my way to my walk-in closet. I use one foot to take off one shoe and then the other. My phone beeps in my pocket, so I pull it out while I unsnap my belt.

Thank you again for the lift.

I smile and answer her back right away.

How are you not sleeping?

I guess I got a second wind.

Make some warm milk with honey. It always does the trick.

That sounds delish. Thanks.

I don’t bother answering her anymore. My pants drop to the floor, and I step out of them. Standing in my closet in my black Hugo Boss boxers, I shut off the light and walk to the bed. I place the phone on the bedside table and slide into bed. It doesn’t take me long to fall asleep; it also doesn’t take Jack long to come to my bed. When he sits up in the bed the next morning, I turn the television on for him, trying to get a few more minutes of sleep.



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