Good Roast Lines Novels & Stories

she said softly. Her voice felt like an anchor. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. “Ava?” she asked gently. I swallowed. “I did it,” I said. Silence. Not the awkward kind. The listening kind. “And?” she asked quietly. I looked at the stick in my hand again. “Two lines,” I whispered. Her breath caught on the other end. For a moment, neither of us spoke. Then she said, “Are you okay?” The question was simple.

The nerves in my body quietly tensed. Soon, a sleek black car pulled up at the building. Thomas's eyes lit up, and he eagerly waved his hand. "Babe!" Imogen stepped out, impeccably dressed in a cream suit, cradling an enormous bouquet of roses.

“Odds on Key One are vicious. Everyone thinks she’ll go the distance. All twelve. Clean run.” “She won’t make it past me,” I growl. My voice is steel twisted around bone. “I’ll ruin her before the second key’s even fucking warm.” Elliot barks a laugh, sharp and obscene. “You better. Because if she survives the lineup? If she actually makes it through every Key and walks out with the payout?” He whistles low. “That’s eight figures, Cross. Real money. Even for us.”

“I’ll be fine. Let’s just get to lunch before I collapse or something.” Xavier proceeds to mumble something about starving myself till I drop and I can’t even argue with him. He isn’t wrong. I’ve had a very unhealthy relationship with food for some time now. How I gain weight remains a mystery to me. “Let’s just g…” “Hosea!” A scrawny small boy skids to a halt in front of us panting and out of breath. He seems like he’s been running for quite a while. “Matt…” he’s too out of breath to even form a full sentence.

he said through clenched teeth. “Professor, you’re about one bad step away from rolling halfway down Frost Ridge.” “I am not—” I crouched and hooked an arm behind his knees before he could protest. “What are you doing—” I lifted him. He was lighter than I expected, but still solid weight as I straightened. “Put me down.” “No.” “Mr. Foster.” “Relax.” His hands grabbed my shoulders as the ground shifted beneath him. “Put. Me. Down.” “I’m getting you back to the trailhead.”

Whatever I’d left in the oven had finished, and the smell followed me down the corridor, growing heavier with every step toward the kitchen. Ally was already there. She stood in front of the open oven, tugging the roast free with careful determination, her smaller hands straining slightly around the pan even through the thick oven mitts. I paused just inside the doorway, leaning back against the counter, arms folding loosely as I watched her with quiet, unguarded interest. “Well,” I drawled, a hint of amusement threading through my voice, “didn’t peg you as the domestic type.” She shot me a glare over her shoulder. “I know how to take something out of a damn oven.”

Damon Cross was the kind of storm you didn’t prepare for, you just prayed you’d survive the damage. ** The next day** The restaurant Damon had chosen was the kind of place that existed in whispers. Quiet, exclusive, shadowed in candlelight and glass walls that looked out onto the city skyline. The kind of place where deals were signed without contracts, where power traded hands over crystal glasses of wine.

I tapped accept. A line appeared on the screen. [Assignment term: three years. Destination: Havenmist branch. Please report to your assigned location by this Saturday.] Today was Wednesday. There were three days left before both my wedding and my departure. Simon Carver saw me looking down at my phone, and his frown deepened. "Maren, I'm talking to you." I locked my phone and looked up at him. "Mm. I heard you." He probably hadn't expected me to be so calm.

"Stop fooling around, Doctor Smith! How can someone just die so easily? I was just holding her hand not long ago. I promised I would come back for her… She always keeps her promises. She'll wait for me to come home." "But she's not home. You saw that yourself, didn't you?" Wade said. "Maybe she's just angry at me. I really did cross a line there…" Zach stammered. Wade didn't have any patience for Zach's self-delusion. He said flatly, "I scattered her ashes in the sea. She always loved being free. And you? You'll never get her forgiveness." Wade's quiet verdict sounded like the Devil's murmur to Zach, and the phone slipped from his hand. He stared at the broken screen, then at our photo on th

I caught her on time and felt her high temperature. **End of flashback** “Well… as long as you're fine now, that's what matters,” I concluded in a sentence. *** The next day… Sky’s P.O.V Barry left this morning, and since I was feeling lazy, I ordered takeout for breakfast for the two of us. Reagan, the nurse Dad had hired beforehand removed the IV drip last night, and her temperature improved yesterday. At that time, I was telling Dad there was no need to hire a nurse, but luckily he did anyway. Otherwise, what would we have done yesterday?