Lindsey Kelk 5-Book 'I Heart...' Collection Read Online Free PDF

control surfed to the top of the quilt and found its way into my hand. I flicked and flicked until I found something familiar. Ahhh, Friends. Perfect. The insanity of the last twenty-four hours flitted around in the back of my mind as I tried to relax. The sun had started to set outside, casting long shadows across my room.
    Aren’t you feeling lonely? You should go home and confront things, the dark room whispered. I had always hated how things seemed ever so slightly worse, ever so slightly more insane at night. I defiantly stuck my hand out and fumbled around on the trolley for another cookie, the final act of exertion that pushed me over the edge. I collapsed into a dreamless, jet lag induced sleep before I even got it to my mouth.

CHAPTER FOUR
    The next morning, I woke up just as suddenly as I’d fallen asleep. Having more or less passed out, I hadn’t drawn the curtains and August’s sweaty sunlight streamed through my window, demanding I get up immediately. In one hand was a half melted cookie and in the other, the remote control. Friends was still playing on the TV. I was more or less sure that it was a different episode … According to the clock on the nightstand, it was Monday, eight a.m. and my first full day in New York. I rolled out of bed, trying not to look in the mirror, and took a glance out of the window. Union Square was already buzzing. The subway station was swarming with people and a sprawling market had sprung up and taken over. I was just about to hop in the shower, as a knock at the door shook me out of my wow-I’m-really-in-New-York-and-let’s-not-think-about-why trance.
    ‘Room service,’ a polite, cool voice accompanied the knock and without thinking, I opened the door to easily one of the best looking men I’d ever, ever seen. He was over six feet tall, thick black hair, parted in the middle and falling to his collar, deep doe brown eyes and baby soft olive skin that contrasted sharply with his crisp white collarless shirt. ‘Miss Clark?’
    I think I made some sort of noise but it wasn’t really an acknowledgement, so I followed it up with a nod. I knew my face was covered in pillow creases, I still had melted chocolate chip cookie on my right hand and I really, really wanted to be wearing my bra. Which was at least ten feet away from where it needed to be, strewn on the floor by the corner of the bed.
    ‘Jenny asked me to make sure I brought up everything she would want for breakfast, so that’s pretty much everything on our menu. I’m Joe,’ he pushed a fresh, steaming trolley into the room and quickly swapped it for the ravaged mess Jenny had left last night. ‘She also asked me to give you a note, it’s just there. Enjoy your breakfast.’ He flashed the most amazing smile and strolled out of the room. How was he a hotel waiter? I wondered, lifting lids and taking big sniffs of everything on the trolley. Omelette, not a fan, bacon and eggs, maybe a little early, pancakes, always time for pancakes, and on the bottom shelf, an array of cereals, pastries, hot chocolate, milk and my because-you’re-English tea. I was so thankful.
    Post-shower, post-breakfast, post-another episode of Friends, I opened Jenny’s note.
    Hey,
    Hope you found something you enjoyed, like I said, I’m an eater.
    I’ll be in reception at 9.30 a.m. sharp, don’t bail on me or I’ll cut off the room service. Today is the first day of your recovery program with Dr Jenny, I hope you’re ready for it!
    Jenny x
    p.s. hope you enjoyed Joe too, I bet your ex didn’t bring you pancakes in the morning looking like that …
    I laughed out loud, but it sounded so strange. I realized I hadn’t heard myself laugh for a good couple of days. Better than crying. But laughter and hot waiters aside, it was time to face facts. And more terrifyingly, it was time to look in the mirror.
    The lighting in The Union had been designed to be as flattering as possible but even low wattage bulbs, soft focus mirrors and