Tempted Read Online Free

pause.
    “So whatever happened with Nimo?   Whatever became of him?” April asks.
    Nimo, short for Geronimo – no one actually knows his real name – is a great guy.   He’s very cute with an infectious laugh and is quite the humanitarian, volunteering at a homeless shelter, and saving recyclables to give to the local middle school so they can raise money to get new sports equipment.   He is ex-military, Airborne to be exact, and now earns his living as a skydiving instructor.   In fact, that’s how I met him. I had always wanted to try skydiving , but my dad, an ex- paratrooper himself, was not thrilled with the idea.   A few months after he passed on , I consoled myself by taking my first and only jump in his honor.   Nimo was in charge of the little band of strangers who had signed up for the activity , and was engaging and enthusiastic in explaining how to plummet from the heavens.   I liked him immediately.  
    Evidently , the sentiment was mutual, as he flirted with me from freefall to touchdown.   I was strapped in tandem with his silent-type co-worker, and Nimo made the jump with an adorable foreign exchange student from Japan , who kept her eyes closed and giggled throughout the whole affair.
    He and I have been on a smattering of dates , which is a feat in and of itself considering he lives a couple of hours away.   I always enjoy his company, despite the fact that he is so smitten he can hardly see straight.   And of course , my mom is on me about him constantly, making sure to mention how happy it would’ve made my dad to have a military man in the family, and how if I ever really cared about my father I would marry Nimo for my deceased dad’s sake.   Oh brother, for her sake would be more accurate.
    “I’ll tell you what became of him.   He became creepy!” I explain to April.
    “Oh no.   Is he still convinced that you’re going to marry him because a psychic at a fundraiser told him so?” she asks.
    “Yep, absolutely.   Until recently, we had fun together.   But then he became possessive and started telling me how to live my life.   He’s taken to giving me unsolicited advice in just about every area.   He says it’s hi s duty as my ‘future husband.’   He really is a sweetiepie , so we stay in contact, but at some point it always gets awkward.   Every now and then he pats me somewhere that gives me the heebie-jeebies and shoot s me knowing look while muttering something about ‘ patience, all in good time.”
    “Oh.”
    Another pause.
    “Well what about that hot investment banker from the Marin a who hit on you at Starbucks?”   April suggests.
    “Oh yeh, Bret!   Wow, I’d forgotten all about him.   I haven’t heard from him since I left the station.   That was where he used to contact me.   I wonder if Mark from the station’s IT department can retrieve any of my emails with Bret?”
    “You should ask him, definitely!” April says encouragingly.
    My wheels begin a spin class and my cheeks begin to flush.   Bret is rakishly attractive.   He’s i ncredibly intelligent with a deep, melodious voice, dark wavy hair, pouty yet manly lips, and the debilitating combo of a rapier wit coupled with an overdeveloped penchant for debauchery.   Add to that his confidence, bordering on cockiness, and his determination to stop at nothing when he sees something he wants, and you’ve got a heady cocktail of charm and charisma.   Yes, I do think I will ask Mark for Bret’s contact info.   In fact, I think I’ll do it right now.
    * * *  
    Being a creature of habit isn’t as monotonous as it may sound.   We all love traditions – the things we look forward to over and over, year after year.   Whether savoring a favorite dish served only at a particular holiday, reliving a first date each anniversary, or engaging in an elaborately choreographed handshake or fraternity song, we all have things we like to do because we’ve done them before.   As a self-employed