Why Does He Do That Audiobook Novels & Stories

he took a sip of his coffee which made Audrey sigh. ‘Seriously? What is he playing at that he needed to drink his coffee first before continuing what he was saying? Wait…’ Audrey’s heart started beating so fast all of a sudden. There was that feeling again when her guts wouldn’t stop reminding her something was about to happen. And that something is not a good thing. ‘Could it be…’

“Untie me, you bastard. Why do you insist on keeping me like this?” “Because it’s fun. I love looking at Adolphus each time he claims the memories back,” he moved his chair next to me and we watched my mate together. He was talking to himself now. “See. First, it takes him a while to accept it. Then, he starts talking to himself. After that, he fights himself and then, he realizes that what he has been doing this whole time is stupid. He starts cringing.” “Woah! Untie me now. Please. Like for real. My hands are getting sore.”

They become rabid and dangerous to themselves and others. "Looks like you made yourself at home already," a voice said. The book fell from my hands in shock. I was so engrossed in reading the book that I didn't hear the sound of his footsteps. I stood up to look at him at the entrance. He stood there resting on the door frame with his legs crossed.

Lazy smirk, perfectly messy hair, and a phone in his hand like it’s his lifeline. “Look who finally decided to show up,” he says, barely glancing up. “I was starting to think you’d joined some cult or something.” “I did,” I say, dropping my bag with a thud. “We worship books and drink iced coffee instead of Kool-Aid.” He raises an eyebrow. “I think I’ve read that book.” “Probably didn’t finish it.” “You wound me.” I sit down beside him, careful not to get too close, and hold up the book for him to see; A Court of Fang and Foolish Decisions. He tilts his head, looking unimpressed.

"What's wrong? Tell me. Don't make me guess. I thought we could talk about anything in our relationship." His gaze slowly lifted, finally meeting hers. "Would you mind if I have autism?" he asked, his voice faint, but she could sense a hint of hesitation. And in his eyes, amidst the emptiness, there was a trace of unease. What was he anxious about? Was he afraid she would say she minds? "Did you hear the conversation between my mom and me?" she asked. Although the door to the room was closed earlier, the soundproofing wasn't very good.

"Seriously?" Both of his brows arched as he looked at me. "Hmm?" "Uh, aren't you a wolf like what Yzmael said?" He nodded. "Yeah. So?" "So why are you reading that?" My eyes narrowed. "It's a good book, Ahuvi. Besides, the guy reminds me of myself." His eyes flashed sadness for a couple seconds but he blinked and then forced a smile. "Yeah, it's good." "Why? What similarities do you have?"

I don't want him making me look like a fool. After buying all the things on Mom's list, I immediately left the supermarket. The rest of the night, I spent my time on my room, listening to my newly downloaded audiobook. Though, I stopped after about an hour. I lost focus and could no longer concentrate on what I was listening to. Carter's confused face flashed in my mind and I felt fucked up. Was I too hard on him? What if my brain is really the problem? What if he doesn't really see the essence of my weird observations? What if he's just any other guy wanting to be friend with me? Wanting to be friend with you? Really? Sounds ridiculous.

I bellowed. “Sorry,” He replied in a hushed tone. I blinked my eyes open at him, but I met his attention on the book unwavering. “What's that you're looking through anyways?” I asked. “Uhhh, it's a book on my family history,” He replied. “So why go through it in the middle of the day?” I asked. “Because I feel that something is missing,” He replied, briefly only glancing at me before returning his focus to his book.

I laughed before I could stop myself. He paused, watching me like I’d surprised him. “What?” I asked, embarrassed. “You laugh more when you forget to be careful,” he said. That warmth returned, spreading through my chest. At the counter, I protested again. Quietly. Weakly. He paid anyway. Outside, I hugged the books to my chest like something precious. “You can’t keep doing this.” “Yes, I can.” “That’s not—” He leaned down, voice low enough only I could hear. “Let me.”

he mutters. “Okay, but hear me out,” I whisper. “Maybe your mojo thing is broken—” “It’s not broken.” His voice is practically a growl. “Then maybe I’m special.” He gives me a look. “Or you’re a problem I don’t need.” “Well, I didn’t ask to see you turn into a furry death machine!” “That’s not what I—” He stops, pinches the bridge of his nose. “This night is unbelievable.” “You’re telling me!”