Forgot to Say Goodbye Read Online S.L. Scott

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, Forbidden Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 129084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
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“This is yours?” I ask dumbly because I’m just in awe. It’s stunning.

Leaving the stroller at the entrance, I pull the baby out and set him on his feet to walk beside me. I attempt to keep my astonishment in check.

“Yes.” He even looks pleased with it. How could he not be? This apartment is a showstopper.

Situated on the west side of a Tribeca building, he has big windows, sunset views, warm wood floors, exposed brick, and I swear the walls feel like suede. “Is this suede?” I lower my hand and grab Maxwell’s before he has a chance to sticky-print after he ate an orange.

“No,” Noah replies, heading down a long corridor. My hall isn’t even long enough to call a corridor. “It’s wallpaper that feels like it, though. It’s unique?”

“Very.”

“Make yourselves at home.” He leaves Maxwell and me to explore on our own. Looking down at my little guy, I whisper, “He means me. You don’t need to put your fingers on everything.”

He’s grinning and giggles before he pulls away from me and teeters over to the couch. I do a quick survey. It’s not entirely childproof, but why would it be? Maxwell’s probably the first child to step foot into this apartment.

I also begin to explore, getting caught up in the details. Purposeful design, like the x-frame chairs in the living room and the modern barstools tucked under the large island, feel like they’re custom to the space. The size of the place is the most surprising aspect. It’s not quite double the size of mine, but it definitely has impressive square footage.

Noah comes in pulling a T-shirt down over his head. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“No, we’re good.” I move around the chairs and sit on the couch that I’m certain actually is suede. That means I need to be careful with Maxwell. One spit up and this fabric is a goner. “Can I ask you something personal?”

“You can ask me anything.” He sits in a chair closest to me and puts on his sneakers.

“I thought Bancroft & Lowe was your first job after graduate school?”

“It is. Why?” Guess he picks up on my nonverbal cues of gawking at the apartment because he asks, “Ah, you’re wondering about the apartment?”

“Yeah. It’s beautiful. Big. Expensive neighborhood and I can imagine the unit costs more than a few pretty pennies.”

Resting his arms on his knees, he sits forward. “Truth?”

“Full truth,” I reply, smiling as our earlier time comes to mind.

I appreciate that he didn’t take insult to my nosiness. It’s New York, though. Everyone talks real estate and money here, so maybe he’s already used to it. “I used a trust fund to pay it down, and my salary covers the remaining mortgage.”

Although it makes me feel weird about my own situation and certain trust funds that I’ve not been given access to, I’m not going to judge him for using his resources. I took an offer I couldn’t afford to refuse to buy mine. It’s not something I’ve shared with anyone, but this feels like we’re in it together. “My mom helped me secure my apartment.”

“Oh yeah?” He’s nodding without a lick of judgment on his face.

“Money she got in the divorce. She told me I’m a worthwhile investment.” Hearing myself say that out loud makes me feel even stronger. “I can’t afford that apartment on my salary, so her support—financial and emotional—changed our lives.”

His eyes search mine, and he takes a deep breath. “I wish I could have been there for you and Max.”

He just says the best things. His words instantly wipe away the negatives of the past. “I know you mean that.” Reaching over, I rest my hand on his knee. “Thank you.”

Covering my hand, he replies, “Thank you.”

We sit a second in the sounds of Max babbling as he crawls toward the window, but then I say, “Tell me about this place.”

He already seems to know that I’m better with the distractions sometimes than sitting in the heavier topics and is quick to reply, “It’s a great building, but the apartment was really in disrepair. I got it at a discount.” I love the smile that he got away with finding a deal. Most men in this city would never want someone to know they didn’t pay top dollar as they sip their expensive liquor out of decanters in the finest restaurants. Noah is real with himself and with everyone who meets him. You know what you’re getting because he’s on the level.

His eyes follow Max as he continues, “Once we got in here to evaluate, most of the damage was surface. Fixed it and worked with an incredible designer and her assistant to bring it together.”

“Which design firm?”

Chuckling, he says, “My mom and sister.” He pats his knees before getting up. “Want a tour?”


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