Read Wish Come True (The Blogger Diaries Trilogy Book 3) Online
Authors: KD Robichaux
Wish Come True (The Blogger Diaries Trilogy Book 3)
Published by © KD Robichaux Wish Come True Copyright © 2016 KD Robichaux All rights reserved https://www.facebook.com/authorkdrobichaux Edited by: Becky Johnson with Hot Tree Editing http://www.facebook.com/hottreeediting Cover Photography by: Mike Fox Photography https://www.facebook.com/MikeFoxPhotographyBeauty Cover Design © Sommer Stein with Perfect Pear Creative Covers https://www.facebook.com/PPCCovers Formatted by: Author JC Cliff Chapter Headings Designed by: Author Danielle Jamie |
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Wish Come True
is based on a true story. I have tried to recreate events, locales, and conversations from my memories of them. In order to maintain their anonymity, in some instances, I have changed the names of individuals and places. I may have changed some identifying characteristics and details such as physical properties, occupations, and places of residence.
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The Blogger Diaries Book 3
by
KD Robichaux
The Blogger Diaries Trilogy
STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP!
PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF COFFEE, DO NOT START READING THIS BOOK WITHOUT READING BOOK 1,
WISHED FOR YOU
, AND BOOK 2, WISH HE WAS YOU, FIRST.
These books are NOT standalones and must be read in order.
Reading order:
Wished for You
Wish He Was You
Wish Come True
Now that I’ve had a panic attack thinking about someone reading this book first, you may proceed, but only if you’ve READ BOOKS ONE AND TWO FIRST!
Love,
KD
Kayla’s Chick Rant & Book Blog
December 20, 2007
So I got this book called
Sex Lover’s Book of Lists
—a super fun read about the history of sex all around the world—and it has me a little worried. Supposedly, they used to think you could go blind by masturbating. I mean… I can see that. The toe-curling, mind-blowing, eye-crossing, self-induced orgasms I’ve been having the past two weeks would definitely lead me to believe I’ll eventually do physical harm to myself if I keep it up. But something tells me that’s not going to slow me down.
I’m having better sex over the phone with Jason than I ever had actually doing the deed with Aiden. *snort* OMG, I’m so going to hell for saying that. But it’s true! I had never had phone sex before Jason suggested it. I was so embarrassed at even the thought of it… until he started talking. Dear God. I swear the man could read me the phone book and I’d come in seconds.
When I told him I got my first vibrator, he was like a dog with a bone, hounding me until I confessed all the details of my little buddy. I have named him Dean, by the way, after Dean Winchester on
Supernatural
. Now,
that
man is sex on a stick. I’m a Dean girl, but I’m definitely Sam curious. Mmmmm…
Wow, I think I’ve been reading too many Kresley Cole books. Nix is rubbing off on me. Squirrel!
Back to what I was saying.
After that first phone call from Jason on Thanksgiving about a month ago, we’ve talked literally every single day for hours on end. It only took a week to be back in Jason’s imaginary bed, half a country away. I know, I know… I’m such a ho. But whatever. He’s… different. I was leery he’d up and “pull a Jason”, as we now call it, referring to how he would completely, unexpectedly disappear. But I really believe he’s not bullshitting me this time. Why?
Well, the conversation went a little like this…
December 8, 2007
Two weeks ago
I glance at the clock, counting down the seconds until my phone will ring, the same time it has every night since Thanksgiving. 10:00 p.m., that magical moment when it’s 9:00 p.m. in Texas and we can talk on our cells for hours without being charged for it. I’m grateful to whoever came up with the “All calls free after 9:00 p.m.” rule, because heaven knows I’d be spending a fortune on my phone bill otherwise, devoting so much time talking to Jason.
I have about ten minutes. I take my cell with me to the kitchen, setting it on the counter while I make myself a ham sandwich, grab a handful of sour cream and onion potato chips to go along with it, and then a Gatorade out of the fridge. I snatch my phone up, tucking it under my arm as I pick up my plate and my soda, and then walk back to my bedroom, closing the door with a backward shove of my foot.
I place everything on my nightstand and reach to turn up the baby monitor. Josalyn’s already been asleep for two hours. I swear she’s the easiest baby in the world. Her internal clock is locked, never veering off schedule, not even by minutes. And I think it’s actually trained my body, because I usually wake up mere seconds before I hear her start to move around in her crib, and I make it to her to nurse before she even has a chance to cry. I wonder if all mothers have such a wondrous bond with their child.
I hop into bed with an excited bounce, cross my legs, pull my covers up, and hunch over my phone, elbows-to-knees, chin propped on my knuckles, and wait for the little gadget to light up. And at the exact moment the green neon numbers go from 9:59 p.m. to 10:00 p.m., my cell starts playing the lyrics to “Helena” by My Chemical Romance. That song never gets old.
With a thud of my heart and a face-splitting grin, I answer after Gerard sings, ‘
Things are better if I stay’
. “Hello.”
“Hey, beautiful,” comes his usual opening, which makes my cheeks warm and radiate downward to set off the roller coaster hill-drop in my belly. “What are we having for dinner tonight?”
“Just a sandwich and chips. I had to finish up a paper, so I didn’t really have time to cook anything,” I tell him. I love that we already have a routine. He picked up right away on the fact I eat dinner after I put Josalyn to bed. Probably not great to wait so late to eat, but with my metabolism, it doesn’t really affect me. I silently thank my mom for her genes. “What about you?”
“Mom made her smothered steak. I’m so full I had to just come prop myself up in bed,” he sighs, and I grin, imagining him rubbing his belly. I’ve been in that bed, so I can picture it perfectly.
“So anything exciting happen today?” I prompt then take a bite out of my sandwich.
“Well, it hasn’t happened yet, but I’m seriously thinking about quitting my job.”
“What?” I exclaim with my mouth full. I quickly swallow and then ask, “Why would you quit? I thought you loved your job. Getting to travel all over the place and building windmills… did something happen?”
“Well, it’s a family business, and I’m not family. I get the feeling they’re going to fire me soon to let one of the relatives have my job, so I figure I’ll beat them to it. I was thinking about going ahead and doing it in time I could maybe get back in school this coming semester. I still have a couple of weeks I could register right down the road at San Jac,” he explains.