All of Me Read Online Free PDF Page A

skin
touched Christy’s nearly choked him. 
    Intrusive images
and thoughts of the woman he’d nearly arrested the night before weren’t helping
matters either.  Dark gypsy eyes, wild hair, and that mouth…
    Focus, damn it!
    Nathan opened his
eyes a sliver and eyed Christy in an attempt to get his bearings.  She was very
pretty:  highlighted hair, nice complexion, and light blue eyes.  She smelled
like perfumed lotion and had a lithe, athletic build from doing – as Danny had
phrased it – a “shit load of running.”  Christy was nice, even-tempered, and
easy going.  The perfect girlfriend.
    So why do I
feel like I’m falling into a huge, black pit?
    Nathan squeezed
his eyes shut tighter and thrust like you were supposed to when you were having
sex with a woman.  Her hands barely skimmed his skin and she didn’t make a
peep, which was exactly why he was able to finish at all.  That, and the
flashes of the gypsy’s lips and scent and deep, dark eyes.
    And as Nathan
came, the great physical sensations mixed with the gaping emotional void…and it hurt .  Just like it always did. 
    And tonight was
extra special because he could a good, heaping spoonful of shame. 
    What kind of
person thinks about another woman when they’re fucking someone else?
    Apparently Nathan
was.
    He and Christy
immediately and silently undid what they’d just done; each spending two minutes
in her bathroom cleaning up and arranging themselves into what they’d been
before. 
    The awkward,
stilted silence lingered as Christy walked Nathan to the front door.  There was
no talk of him staying the night and he would have refused had she asked. 
Sleepovers weren’t his style.
    Nathan crossed his
arms over his chest.  “Would you, uh, like to see a movie next weekend?  Or
maybe there’s something else you’d rather do?”
    She smiled
timidly.  “A movie sounds fun.  Sure.” 
    Then they stood
there, avoiding each others’ eyes, until Nathan turned and abruptly walked
out. 
    Had Christy been a
different sort of woman, Nathan would have felt badly about their parting, but
he knew she didn’t give a shit. 
    Or maybe she did. 
    I should have
at least hugged her.  Or given her a kiss on the cheek, for Christ’s sake. 
    Nathan backed the
Denali out of her carport and headed home. 
    As he drove,
Nathan dragged a shaky hand down his damp face and wondered for the one
millionth time in his life if it was possible to be too fucked up to live. 
Maybe once a person was damaged beyond a certain point they were just not fit
to live a normal life. 
    As a police officer,
he’d seen hundreds and hundreds of people so damaged it was clear they’d never
have any real happiness or chances at normalcy.  And Nathan had always been
hyper aware that he was no different.  Certainly no better and possibly even
worse than people he apprehended and sent to jail.  The only difference between
them was that Nathan didn’t break the law.  Ever.  And Nathan was a better
faker than most.  A straight face, tidy clothes, and a neat, well-kept house
and car went a long way, appearance-wise.  Some people just couldn’t fake it. 
And Nathan didn’t blame them for that.  He blamed them for breaking the law
and, for that, people needed to be held accountable.  But he never held the
damage against them.  Because he was one of them.  Always had been, always
would be.
    The twenty minute
shower Nathan took when he got home was hotter and more thorough than
necessary.  Once the towel was neatly arranged on the towel bar and the water
glass he’d used was placed in the dishwasher, Nathan peeled back the hospital-cornered
gray sheets on his plain, natural wood bed and climbed in. 
    And then he
climbed out.  Nathan dragged himself into his basement and unceremoniously
plopped himself down on the weight bench.  He pressed and pushed and groaned
and grunted until his gray cotton Nike shirt and black shorts were soaked with
sweat. 
    The