All Chapters of CRAVING ISABELLA: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

ISABELLA "Do you know what you're getting for your mom?" Chloe asks the moment I start pushing the trolley, my eyes scanning the rows of gifts that includes candles, bath bombs, souvenirs... name it. I shake my head, momentarily forgetting she can't see me through my phone. "No idea." I answer, pushing the trolley further into the gift shop. We're speaking over the phone because I decided that I needed the shopping spree. Technically it can't be called a spree since I'm just getting few stuff for my mom. It's her birthday tomorrow and despite everything... despite the fact that she hardly deserves a card, let alone a gift... I can't just do nothing. Besides, I need the distraction. If I had gone to class today, I would have spent the entire day moping and I would have died by the end of the evening. So I just scrambled for little cash to put something together for her. That's it. I need to be busy. It's a good thought. Thinking about a certain letter makes me cranky. Thinking a

NOAHStill as stubborn.I watch her back as she runs through the sliding glass doors, with hunching and shaking shoulders. I don't wait for the receipt the cashier is talking about. I grab the bag and follow.Outside, she's standing sideways. Where u can get a perfect view of the way she looks. The last time I saw her, it had been late. But now? Under the glow of the lights in the parking lot, she looks breathtaking.Her dress hugs those curves perfectly and her hair falls down her back in long, dark waves that looks soft. She's not just pretty anymore. She's a fucking woman. A sexy, confident, dangerous woman. And the last part, I'm proud of her."I'll pay you back," she says, the moment I get close. She won't even look at me. "I'll get cash. I'll Venmo you. I'll... I’ll find a way. Just don't think this means anything.""I don't want your money, Isabella," I say. I can't stop staring at the way the light catches the column of her throat.She finally looks at me. "Then what do you w

ISABELLA I can spot my parent's place from here. I hurry, walking faster while adjusting the weight of the bags in my arm. Yeah. Inside the bags, the gifts that I'd painstakingly picked out... with Noah's charity money... are tucked in. I'm not yet in but I prepare myself for the cigarette smoke that usually comes when I'll eventually enter. It's the usual. But when I push the door open, the smoke isn't there. The air is actually... clean? It's the first thing I notice. And it feels wrong. I walk into the living room and I halt abruptly. The rickety, scarred coffee table that I'd been saving up to change is gone, replaced by something that looks brand new. In it's place sits a massive, three-tier birthday cake with frosting, surrounded by a mountain of expensive, silk-wrapped presents. My mom and dad are sitting on the sofa, actually smiling. "Oh," I breathe, the bags in my hands suddenly feeling too heavy. I let them drop to the floor. They look like trash compared to the gol

NOAH"What?" I blink. Yeah, I'm thrown. My brain just short-circuits. She doesn't mean that, does she? Like, actually kiss her? I hope not. "Kiss me," she repeats, her voice a little louder now. Fuck! She does mean that. My mind races, trying to find an escape route, any escape route. "If you mean everything you just said, then kiss me. Right now." She crosses her arms.I stare at her, my mouth drying up. "Look... I don't..." I start, trying to formulate some kind of excuse, some way out of this. My palms start sweating."Save it," she cuts in. "I don't want excuses, Noah." "I'm not making excuses," I say, rubbing the back of my neck. "I just... Kissing is..." This is bad. This is really, really bad. How did I go from not caring what any female thinks to... this..."That's the problem. Engaged or not, I'm not going to stand here and let you make a joke about me."I frown, my brows pulling together. "Who's making fun of who?" "Are you serious right now?" I don't answer, because hon

ISABELLA I'm here counting down the time till I get off for today, my eyes glued to the slow crawl of the clock above the counter not even knowing that I still have some customers left. My feet ache, my head throbs, and the smell of fried foods is starting to get to me. And speaking about customers... I don't look up when the bell above the door chimes, announcing a new arrival. It always chimes. Every damn time someone walks in or out. It's Leo's favourite sound, apparently. More chiming means more money. To me, it always means more noise. "Take a seat anywhere, we'll be with you in a..." I'm saying, already reaching for a menu, when whoever it is cuts me off. "Isabella?" Great. This one knows my name. Drama loading? My shoulders tense. I wonder who the hell she is? I'm in no mood to entertain a disgruntled customer from last week. I look up and tilt my head. The lady standing on the other side of the counter isn't a regular here. Not even close. She's shifting awkwardly, her e