Everything I've Never Had Read Online Free

arrangement of photos for a couple of beats and finally looks back at me. “Are you freaking kidding me? You kissed Adrian ‘freakishly amazingly beautiful, broody, black sheep, I could take your clothes off without ever moving a muscle’ Hebert, and then he kissed you back?”
    “Yes.”
    “Screw the monosyllabic answers, Celeste. I want every single, solitary detail. Be very, very specific. Specificity is the name of the game here, understand?”
    “Yes, Bonnie, I understand. I wouldn't dare leave out one single detail for fear that you would hack into my computer and give me, all my fellow bloggers, and all our faithful followers viruses of Homeric proportions.” I then proceed to tell her every sordid detail of my little back porch tryst with Adrian. The irony is not lost on me that this is definitely a first: she was always the one entertaining me with her antics when we were in college.
    “So,” I sum up, “it was obvious that he regretted it and tried to console me then and there. I wouldn't let him. How could I? I'd just had the most amazing kiss of my life. And he’s been so wonderful to me and the boys. He’s been there for us like no one else, Bon, and I can’t imagine my life without him.” I shake my head and groan a little. “I lied to him, Bonnie. Told him that I'd had too much to drink and that I’d been feeling lonely. That's not like me, but I was afraid if he knew how much I wanted him we wouldn't have stopped. And that would be a mistake...a huge mistake.”
    Bonnie hadn't moved a muscle during my detailed, vivid description of my little exploit. Now, she focuses her eyes on me and that never fails to scare me. Oh, no! I'm in trouble. She has an uncanny ability to see beyond words, beyond composure to read your exact thoughts, sometimes reading thoughts you hadn’t even fully realized yourself. She's excellent at this with everyone. She's a master with me. “Celeste,” she says my name so seriously it scares me a little as does the fact that she's grabbed my hand, “you're in love with him.”
    “Wh…What?” I stutter and give a high-pitched giggle. “No. No, I'm not. I told you it's just physical. Purely physical. And I can control my actions from here on out. I just needed to get it off my chest. That is the only confession I'm making here. I'm not professing my love for him.”
    “You don't have to profess it, sweetheart.” Her voice is sugary sweet, meaning she's not buying a word of what I'm saying. “It's written all over you. It was tangible with every word that you just uttered.”
    Her words give me pause. Am I in love with Adrian? He’s amazing. He’s pure hearted. He’s gorgeous. It’s true I do love him but as a friend, and I can’t picture us having a relationship. It would never work. I shake my head at her. “Look, I know you're typically an expert on how I feel, but you've got it all wrong this time. I’m attracted to him, but I'm not in love with Adrian. I love him, yes, but as a friend, not romantically or whatever.” My hand punctuates this stance with a careless wave.
    “No, darlin'. That's how you felt about Tripp.”
    I snap back like she just slapped me. “No,” I state.
    “Yes,” she insists, “you made the best out of an arranged marriage.”
    My voice snaps like a whip with indignation. “I was not in an arranged marriage!”
    “Maybe not in the strictest sense of the concept, but I can't think of anything closer. You knew from the time that you were old enough to know what marriage was that you were expected to marry Tripp, did you not?”
    “Yes,” I mumble.
    She doesn't let me off the hook. “You weren't in love with Tripp, Celeste. You married him because that was what was expected of you.” Her voice gentles. “Tell me I'm wrong.”
    “Don't say we didn't have love. We had love,” I protest weakly.
    “You had a lovely respect, which was respectfully lovely; however, you didn't have a love like married couples are supposed to