**WATTPAD HQ EDITOR'S PICK Nov/Dec 2021**
BOOK ONE in the STEAMY FORBIDDEN ROMANCE series
Coralie Watson, a British thirty-year-old living in San Francisco, has a tormented past with men. Physical and mental abuse, abandonment issues, incompatibili...
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♫ Then I don't even see you Not even for a weekend or a month So much you left between us ♪ (Jonas Brothers—Every Single Time)
Coralie's mind raced. Everyone continued to cheer for her, clap her back, capture her hand to shake it.
Ryan had gotten off his stool and was feet away, but Michael was closer, within reach. A few brosloitered between them, so Coralie took her chances and rushed forward, preparing to shove Michael off to the side, out of Ryan's pathway to her.
She collided into him, breathless as he drew her into his arms.
"Michael—"
"—Wow, Cora, that was amazing! You were outstanding!"
She flashed him a grin and brought her lips to his ear. "Thank you," she whisper-yelled, "but I need some air, if you don't mind?"
He pulled aside and nodded, beaming at her. "Yeah, for sure! Do you want company, or...?"
She shook her head—a little too fast, prompting a bout of dizziness that she fought to ignore; she'd need allher wits about when confronting Ryan. "No, no I need a minute alone. That was intense, and I need to... recompose myself."
He rubbed her arm and let her hurry off, and she hoped he wasn't paying too close attention to where she rushed off to next—and to whom she spoke.
She jammed into idiots cat-calling her—their way of saying she had talent, apparently—and darted up to Ryan, stumbling into his colossal frame.
"Out," she pointed to the door, "now."
If bothered by her brashness, Ryan didn't show it. He seemed amused, smirking at her as if going outside meant they'd get to pick up where they left off, as if this was her way of greeting him far from prying eyes. And it was, in a sense—but she had no plans to greet him nicely.
The instant the door slammed behind them and the next performer's song died under the sound of whooshing cars and police sirens in the distance, Coralie crossed her arms.
"What the fuck are you doing here?"
Clutching his hat against his belly, Ryan cocked his head. "What do you mean? Am I not allowed to be?"
He dared to lift the corners of his lips, and Coralie had half a mind to slap those cheeks until they turned purple, to squeeze his chin and drag his mouth closer to hers—
No, you're mad, Cora! You're super mad!
"You were going to send flowers, dammit! Not yourself!"
Her lungs felt like they were caving in and her throat constricted, turning scratchy as if she'd swallowed sandpaper. A part of her squirmed in delight to see this fantasy man standing before her, biting his lip though he had no doubt he was in trouble.
