Reading With Patrick Novels & Stories

Damien says. "Yes," Aria says. "It's been two years since it published," he says. "Two years next month," she says. "The grandchildren are going to read it," he says. "When they're old enough." "Yes," she says. "Patrick asked me about it last week," he says. "About the twenty-one nights. He's read the book — he read it before he met Hope, actually, she mentioned it existed and he found it." He looks at the yard. "He asked what it was like. The original version. Night One specifically."

“Well, there’s this one guy who sends himself motivational emails every Monday morning. Stuff like, ‘You’ve got this, champ!’ and ‘Remember, you’re the best thing this company has.’” “No!” I gasped, clutching my stomach as I laughed. “Do I know him?” “You might,” Patrick said cryptically. “Come on, give me a hint,” I pressed. “Let’s just say he’s very attached to his standing desk,” Patrick replied, his grin widening. I laughed so hard I nearly knocked over the bowl of chips. Talking to Patrick was like finding a hidden gem at the party. He was nerdy, quirky, and absolutely delightful. As we continued chatting, I felt a presence nearby. I turned my head to see Logan standing a few feet away,

Juliet said, her voice lower now, as if trying to match the new tone of the moment. “Yeah… Scott Norman,” he replied calmly, hands casually tucked into his pockets. “Wow. For real?” she gasped, clearly star-struck now. Then Patrick walked into the room. He looked a little older than then the way he looks at work—more lines around his eyes, more grey in his hair— but his presence still commanded the room. He moved like a man who knew too much, carried too much, and had long stopped pretending otherwise. “To whom do I owe this visit?” he asked, his eyes narrowing as they landed on me.

Patrick paused, dramatically looking down at his watch, “7PM. The time I promised I’d be here.” He grinned at me then and I had to lean against the door to give me strength. I hated how for the first time in my life my hormones were turning me into the heroines of those God-awful romance novels that had no spine and were so obnoxious you wondered why the hero even liked them in the first place. I didn’t say anything, so Patrick spoke again. “Is that what you’re wearing? I don’t think the restaurant has a specific dress code but I don’t think they appreciate cat-decorated pajamas and t-shirts with the words Rub for Luck on them.”

I was so lost in my own head that I barely noticed when Patrick finished and collapsed beside me, panting like he had just finished a day of hard labor. “You didn’t make a sound,” he complained between heavy breaths. “I told you, Patrick. I’m exhausted.” “Yeah, whatever,” he muttered, turning to face me. “You know what you need?” “What?” I asked, genuinely curious. “Romance,” he said, his eyes fluttering shut as sleep began to take him. “But not the boring kind. Something dark, forbidden… something out of the ordinary.” He finally slept off, the words hung in the air. Something out of the ordinary.

’’ Patrick said. ‘’But how did you get this?’’ Aliyah said in wonder. ‘’Trust me kid, I have my sources.’’ he smiled. Aliyah just stared at him like he had grown two heads. She decided not to pursue the issue because when it came to Patrick, there was no telling where these sources came from. ‘’I see.’’ Aliyah said as she read through the file. She had always been a very fast reader ever since she was a young girl and she also retained as fast as she read.

Patsy smiles big “ Kiddo, you have got yourself a deal.” Patsy was right, we stayed empty while we finished our clean-up. I grabbed my backpack and went to the very last booth in the back so I would be out of the way in case any customers came in. I have my books spread out all over the table with my notebooks in front of me. I was so involved in my work I didn’t notice Patsy had brought me another cup of tea until she tapped me on the shoulder. “ Hey, drink up,” she says. “ How’s the homework going?” she asked. “ Not bad. I think I’m almost finished. And the best part is I think I understand most of it..” Patsy laughs “ I’m sure you understand more than you think. I know how smart you are e

“I’m not picky. As long as I can put these bags down and scratch my damn nose.” We found a table off to the side of the court and stacked all our purchases against a half wall. Patrick all but clawed at the bridge of his nose and sighed like he was in heaven. Then he slouched in one of the seats and pulled out his phone, looking for all intents and purposes like a surly teenager who had been dragged to mall with his sisters. From time to time, I saw some of Killian’s other men trailing us and knew we were safe even if Patrick was taking a break.

They had the same flaxen hair, like fresh hewn corn, though Patrick’ was short and well kept, and Scottie’s was a mass of curls and tangles. “Patrick just came to sit with me a while,” my mother said, by way of explanation. I proffered a thin-lipped smile. Patrick wore no discernible expression that I could read, simply locked those cat eyes on me like he was afraid I might disappear at any moment. And I might. “You look good, Claire,” he said, his voice low and rough from too many cigarettes. “Christ,” he reached out for Scottie and took him into his arms. “He got so big.”

She muttered under Her breath. Patrick walked out of the room, his heart racing like crazy in his chest... why was his heart racing because of Olivia... Why didn't he notice how beautiful she was... He gave him head a little shake and tried to push such thoughts to the back of his head... "She is a coworker," He muttered as she pushed the door to Alex office open..... "Sir, I found the documents you asked for," Patrick said to Alex and handed the documents in his hands to him... Alex collected it and went through it before sighing deeply...