Novel & Cerita Can't Stop Reading

I want to stop but I can't. What the hell is wrong with me?. ✍️ Authoress Ricky ✍️ To be continued... There is fire on the mountain 🌋🌋🌋

“What!? Come on, go on, keep on reading, you wont leave your letters halfway will you?” “No" I replied slowly and shook my head. “I want you to read em, please read em for me.... I can't read em, I find it difficult to read em, please…” I added, placing the letters on her lap. “Styles, you are trying, just go on and keep on reading” She replied; dropping them back on my laps. “I said I can't" “you can” “No! I can't” “of course you can” “I said I can't bitch!!!”

He couldn't stop watching her. Dear readers, please endeavor to drop a comment after every read Also please click on the love sign at the top of the book details to add my book to your library so that you can continue to get an update.. Thank you so much for reading my book, Next update will come so soon.

Sorry for the inconveniences it has caused any of you. Thank you for reading this book and not stopping. Please continue reading My Next Door Mate 🥺

Kenna ''Can you give me a hand?'' I ask, putting stacks of books into the empty box in front of me; not wanting to leave the apartment without having them near my side—reading is one of the things that I can never stop doing, no matter how convincing someone might be to stop me.

he adds. Can I really read these out loud?

The words are an anchor I can carry. My room smells like lemon cleaner and old paper. I close the door and turn the lock. The click feels like control. I put my phone on the desk, screen up, traitor black. My textbook lies open from last night, highlighter uncapped, an ambitious yellow line mid-sentence. I sit. I try to read. The words won’t stay still. Lines float. Letters slide. I pick up the phone, set it down, pick it up again. My chest tightens until I tell myself out loud, stop. I plug the phone in, like charging might summon him.

I closed the report. Immediately opened another. Kept reading. Kept working. Kept moving. Because if I stopped, I'd think. And thinking wasn't useful. Not when nothing was ever going to happen between us. Not when she'd eventually find someone else. Not when she'd be better off without me. I opened the next file. Forced my attention back to the screen. Then read the same sentence three times before realizing I hadn't understood a single word.

I again peeked inside the book. "He unclasped the hooks of her bra and---" as I was reading she cut me off. "STOP." she yelled loudly. "Threw it away in the corner of the room making her half naked." I said and smirked at her. "I said stop and give it back." she said annoyingly. "She presses both of her breasts making her moan out loudly." I read amusingly. This time she ran towards me in full force and I ran back inside the room and laughed loudly at her beetroot coloured face. She was reading it shamelessly then what's the problem reading with me. It could increase the intensity of reading.

Read enough to understand the quality of what was happening. The first message she read that stopped her was from a woman she did not know, in a city she had never visited, who had apparently read the entire book between midnight and four in the morning and had written to say: I did not sleep. I could not sleep. Every time I thought I could put it down I found I could not put it down because it felt like putting down the only honest thing I had encountered in years. I have been in that kitchen. I have stood at that counter. I did not know anyone else had been there until this morning.