BOOK TWO in the STEAMY FORBIDDEN ROMANCE series -- please read BOOK ONE, Illicit, before proceeding with this novel!
Coralie Watson, now living in NYC to focus on her singer/songwriter career, has landed herself in quite the predicament. Stuck in a...
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♫ I heard about, you and your other situation Through word of mouth They made it seem so complicated Is it over now? ♪ (Sevyn Streeter—Before I do)
Such an important event warranted an even more important outfit—meaning Coralie had to go home. There was no avoiding it; she'd be confronting Delilah that day. The questions would pour out, voices would raise, tears would spill, and the walls would rattle with the echoes of their argument.
But Delilah was her best option to help pick out what she'd wear. First impressions mattered, Delilah always said so; but Coralie sucked at putting her finest features forward. Would Delilah still want to assist her in whipping up one of her signature specials after Coralie told her the truth?
Doubtful.
In the Lyft, the whole way home, Coralie fought against biting her nails. Delilah was tiny, even when she wore her heels; but her bite was vicious and her sting worse. Had she done horrible things in her life? Absolutely. But she held her friends to a certain standard, and Coralie's behavior, Coralie's decision... might wound their friendship. Especially after Delilah had warned her countless times about Ryan.
When she unlocked their fourth floor apartment door, and caught a whiff of the heavenly aroma of pizza, Coralie wrinkled her nose. Not that she didn't delight in the scent, but Delilah only ate pizza if she was too stressed to cook, too exhausted, or seriously pissed.
"Cora, is that you?" Delilah's surprisingly soft voice came from the kitchen.
Tiptoeing in, wishing she'd been quieter, Coralie removed her shoes. "Uh... yeah. I'm home."
Out of nowhere and with no warning, Delilah's five foot three frame collided into Coralie's and jammed her against the door. "Where the fuck have you been?" The scent of her strawberry spray that she spritzed on every morning flurried into Coralie's nostrils. Her luscious locks of raven whooshed side to side as she crammed her finger once, twice, three times into Coralie's chest, between her breasts. "And why have you been lying to me? I smell it on you. Lies. Sex." She backed away and arched an eyebrow. "Ryan?"
"Huh?" Coralie slithered out of Delilah's reach and hurried into the living room. She plopped onto the couch and dropped her purse on the ground. "Lying? What do you mean?"
"Oh my God, you're so fucking obvious." Delilah groaned as she trudged over to sit next to her. Coralie stiffened, uncertain how her roommate would proceed next; grab her wrist and compress it? Grip her shoulders tight and shake her? Slap her? Scream at her? Cry? With Delilah, emotions were always unexpected and uncontrolled. "You went out to meet him and didn't come home until now? Speak. I want the truth."
Coralie owed nothing to anyone, she knew; but she owed much to Delilah. In tough situations, Delilah had always been there to drag her out of trouble. How many times had she talked them out of being kicked out of nightclubs, or saved her from disgusting pricks hitting on them at bars? How many times had her father come through to help pay their rent when they were short? Delilah, flighty and fickle and over-the-top as she might have been, was fierce when protecting those she loved.
