Falling for Your Madness Read Online Free
Author: Katharine Grubb
Tags: Romance, Literature & Fiction, Contemporary, Fiction & Literature, Romantic Comedy
on Saturdays and Sundays, and I will request the delight of kissing you on a very specific spot on the lower hemisphere of your lovely face.” He laughed.
I felt like I was about to scream. I didn’t know if it was in fear or in delight or what. But I was totally enchanted.
“Do you want to hear more? It gets better.” He smiled.
“I think so.”
“If you decide that you want to marry me, then you tell me. You will be in control. Always. I fancy you enough that I am willing to wait for you. I think you would make a remarkable friend, an enchanting sweetheart and a beautiful bride, but I’m not the one who makes the decision here. You are.”
“But there’s a catch.” This was it. I was almost ready to grab my bag and bolt out of there. Almost.
“The catch is on me, because you do the breaking up. I will not do it. Ever. I promise. And I always keep my promises. If you release me, you must speak to me in person about it. No phone calls or emails or ghastly text messages. Once it is over, it is over. No changing your mind or saying you didn’t mean it. Because I will have no more contact with you. None whatsoever.”
“That’s intense.” This should have been scary, but it wasn’t. This man had been hurt. Perhaps he’s devising this crazy system out of protection. I didn’t know what I was going to do with him at all, but the idea of control certainly appealed to me.
“I’m afraid it has to be intense. Am I frightening you?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Do you have any questions? I want you to have complete understanding on all points of the rules.”
“What if I say yes, let’s be—what did you call it, sweethearts?” I had to laugh at this. “And I decide I’d rather be friends again.”
“Excellent question. You always tell a lot about someone by their questions. Our relationship’s progress is a one-way street. We cannot go back to friends; that option only works in pop songs. Your only option, if you are unhappy, is your final release of me. But once you shut that door, you cannot open it again. It would be humiliating and unfair for me to see you and have you say something like, ‘Oh David! I’ve missed you!’ He batted his eyes. ‘Oh David, can’t we meet for tea just once for old times’ sake?’ or ‘Oh David, I need a plus one for my friend’s wedding.’ No! Absolutely not. There will be no toying with me. I will not be humiliated.”
I believed it. He meant business.
“My purpose is marriage. It is serious and final. While we are friends, you may have your beaux, but I insist you don’t tell me about it, nor do I want you to string us both along for your amusement. You don’t strike me as the type of girl to do that.”
“No.” I had had my fill of that in junior high school. I had stopped when I realized how much it hurt people.
“I can tell you are a lady. I only associate with ladies.”
A lady!
“I want to remind you that I will do everything that I say I am going to do. I also promise you to not touch you, except in greeting. Never to put physical demands on you. Never try to get you drunk so I can have my way with you. Never presume upon you. There will never be, while you are with me, making out, shacking up, or calls late at night asking you if you want a visitor. You will be absolutely safe in my presence at all times.”
“Wow.”
“But, there is this. I cannot be alone with you. Never. Not in a car. Not in your apartment. Not in any circumstances. We meet in public, and I walk you home. And once we are engaged, well, I’ll grow fangs and ask if I can suck your blood.”
“What?” Was he completely mad?
“I’m joking about that part. You were looking a bit pale. I wanted to lighten the mood. I did a bad job of it. Please forgive me.”
I laughed. “I do.”
He leaned back. “I realize that I come across as being intense. Let’s take a
I felt like I was about to scream. I didn’t know if it was in fear or in delight or what. But I was totally enchanted.
“Do you want to hear more? It gets better.” He smiled.
“I think so.”
“If you decide that you want to marry me, then you tell me. You will be in control. Always. I fancy you enough that I am willing to wait for you. I think you would make a remarkable friend, an enchanting sweetheart and a beautiful bride, but I’m not the one who makes the decision here. You are.”
“But there’s a catch.” This was it. I was almost ready to grab my bag and bolt out of there. Almost.
“The catch is on me, because you do the breaking up. I will not do it. Ever. I promise. And I always keep my promises. If you release me, you must speak to me in person about it. No phone calls or emails or ghastly text messages. Once it is over, it is over. No changing your mind or saying you didn’t mean it. Because I will have no more contact with you. None whatsoever.”
“That’s intense.” This should have been scary, but it wasn’t. This man had been hurt. Perhaps he’s devising this crazy system out of protection. I didn’t know what I was going to do with him at all, but the idea of control certainly appealed to me.
“I’m afraid it has to be intense. Am I frightening you?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Do you have any questions? I want you to have complete understanding on all points of the rules.”
“What if I say yes, let’s be—what did you call it, sweethearts?” I had to laugh at this. “And I decide I’d rather be friends again.”
“Excellent question. You always tell a lot about someone by their questions. Our relationship’s progress is a one-way street. We cannot go back to friends; that option only works in pop songs. Your only option, if you are unhappy, is your final release of me. But once you shut that door, you cannot open it again. It would be humiliating and unfair for me to see you and have you say something like, ‘Oh David! I’ve missed you!’ He batted his eyes. ‘Oh David, can’t we meet for tea just once for old times’ sake?’ or ‘Oh David, I need a plus one for my friend’s wedding.’ No! Absolutely not. There will be no toying with me. I will not be humiliated.”
I believed it. He meant business.
“My purpose is marriage. It is serious and final. While we are friends, you may have your beaux, but I insist you don’t tell me about it, nor do I want you to string us both along for your amusement. You don’t strike me as the type of girl to do that.”
“No.” I had had my fill of that in junior high school. I had stopped when I realized how much it hurt people.
“I can tell you are a lady. I only associate with ladies.”
A lady!
“I want to remind you that I will do everything that I say I am going to do. I also promise you to not touch you, except in greeting. Never to put physical demands on you. Never try to get you drunk so I can have my way with you. Never presume upon you. There will never be, while you are with me, making out, shacking up, or calls late at night asking you if you want a visitor. You will be absolutely safe in my presence at all times.”
“Wow.”
“But, there is this. I cannot be alone with you. Never. Not in a car. Not in your apartment. Not in any circumstances. We meet in public, and I walk you home. And once we are engaged, well, I’ll grow fangs and ask if I can suck your blood.”
“What?” Was he completely mad?
“I’m joking about that part. You were looking a bit pale. I wanted to lighten the mood. I did a bad job of it. Please forgive me.”
I laughed. “I do.”
He leaned back. “I realize that I come across as being intense. Let’s take a
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