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    Of All the Ways He Loves Me
    Of All the Ways He Loves Me
    Of All the Ways He Loves Me
    Ebook95 pages1 hour

    Of All the Ways He Loves Me

    By Suzanne D. Williams

    5/5

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    About this ebook

    "I love you as a friend, Nat. I love you as a sister. I love you as a neighbor, a school mate, and a dozen other things. I simply want to know if I love you as a girl, and maybe if you can love me in return."

    Nadia Asbury knows everything about Paterson Radovich, his likes and dislikes, what viruses and injuries he's had, and every Christmas present he's received since they were ten. He is, after all, her best friend. When he asks her on a date though, she wonders if she knows him at all. She's not familiar with his new, romantic side and frightened of what might happen to their long-standing friendship. What if after all his efforts, she doesn't feel anything? Scarier still, what if she does?

    Sweet YA romance by best-selling author, SUZANNE D. WILLIAMS. Short story. 21,000 words. Clean Reads for Teens

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSuzanne D. Williams
    Release dateMar 17, 2015
    ISBN9781507075005
    Of All the Ways He Loves Me
    Author

    Suzanne D. Williams

    Best-selling author, Suzanne D. Williams, is a native Floridian, wife, mother, and photographer. She is the author of both nonfiction and fiction books. She writes a monthly column for Steves-Digicams.com on the subject of digital photography, as well as devotionals and instructional articles for various blogs. She also does graphic design for self-publishing authors. She is co-founder of THE EDGE. To learn more about what she’s doing and check out her extensive catalogue of stories, visit http://suzanne-williams-photography.blogspot.com/ or link with her on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/suzannedwilliamsauthor.

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      Book preview

      Of All the Ways He Loves Me - Suzanne D. Williams

      Of all the ways he loves me

      In this he loves the most.

      The light in my eye. The curve of my lip.

      The touch and sweep and warm caress

      Of his hand on my face

      His taste on my tongue

      And the scent of our breath when we become one.

      CHAPTER 1

      NADIA

      I was sick, seriously sick, the kind of sick where half your sinuses drip incessantly, and the other half are dry and stuffy. My arms ached. My legs ached, and my head was a balloon. I was also thinking of trying dreds in my hair from lack of washing it. I mean, washing took energy, something I didn’t have in a ready supply. Moreover, I’d welded myself to the tissue box and a two liter of cola. The soda had kept me alive, I do believe, along with chicken noodle soup in a can.

      So it was with complete horror that I contemplated my mom’s statement.

      Get dressed, sweetheart, we’re going to the church picnic.

      The church picnic? Were her eyes open? Was she actually looking at me?

      "I am not going to the church picnic," I said flatly.

      This earned me the mom look, the one that says I’m skating on the edge.

      Look at me, I said. I’m a disas ... disas ... I ended the word with a tremendous sneeze – totally unplanned – and thought that’d convince her.

      It didn’t.

      You just need a nice bath and fresh clothes, and you’ll be as good as new, she chirped.

      Yeah, because fresh clothes would help. I admit my jammies were smelling kinda funky. I’d been in them for two days. But I strongly suspected my head would be the same no matter what I wore. This mess, whatever it was, was determined to take me out.

      I’ll have to sit there and pretend I care, I whined. And listen to twelve people tell me how bad I look, something I knew already; how their cousin had something like that recently, and it was so much worse than what I was dealing with; and could they please pray for me?

      Okay, so prayer wasn’t such a bad idea as long as it didn’t require me to do anything. Again, no energy.

      Obey your mother.

      Dad was now getting into the mix, and that was bad because it gave me no choice. He had his arms crossed, too, a sure sign I should toe the line.

      I didn’t dare argue, so I slunk off to my room and contemplated a long, excruciating morning. This was the end, completely the end. One look at me and the entire youth group would run screaming. Parents would yank away their kids. Grandmothers would chase me around with disinfectant.

      I fell back on the bed prone, my arms splayed out on either side, and said the first thing that came into my brain. Dear, God. Why?

      YOU LOOK AWFUL, PENNY said.

      I didn’t bother to turn my head and find her. I was too drained.

      Seriously, awful. She reiterated it and found my gaze for herself by leaning overhead. Her straight brown locks formed a curtain around her face, making it rounder than it really was.

      I feel so much better about myself now. Thanks, I said.

      She smiled. You’re welcome. She disappeared from view and, coming around the fold-out table, seated herself beside me.

      I made no effort to turn my head.

      Your parents made you come, huh? she asked from her new position by my left ear.

      What day is it? I asked.

      She laughed. That bad?

      Awful. Just dig a hole and bury me.

      I’ll help, said a new voice. Deep. Male. Paterson Radovich.

      I wanted to weep or cheer. One. I couldn’t decide. First, because he’d offered to dig the hole. Second, because burial seemed like a relief right then.

      I’ll even plant flowers at your headstone, he said.

      That’s so sweet of you, I replied. The only thing that’d make it better was if you’d propose first.

      He chuckled. I might, so long as I get your music collection once you’re gone.

      Done.

      Nadia Asbury, you look terrible. Friend number three had arrived.

      Wow, I said. I didn’t know. Thanks, Jenn.

      Paterson just proposed, Penny inserted.

      Jenn plopped down in a chair opposite me and propped her chin in her hands. To Nadia? Awesome. When’s the wedding?

      Next summer, I replied. Or one week from now, depending on if I die or not.

      Can I be best maid? Jenn asked.

      I grunted. I was through talking.

      Oh, boy, Paterson said. A woman that won’t speak. I’m set for life.

      At least, until she passes on, then she’ll haunt you, Penny said.

      And I’ll pine away.

      This was really going too far, this whole think-about-my-death thing, so I raised my hand. If I could get a word in edgewise, I mumbled.

      They all looked at me, expectant.

      Would one of you wake me up when this is over and don’t let me drool in the meantime?

      This brought laughter all around and the attention of Evelyn Fitzpatrick. Evelyn Fitzpatrick was what my mom called a case, that being a generalization of any number of frustrating people or situations. Pencil thin with razor straight blonde hair, she was pretty in a sort of blade-of-grass kinda way, but it wasn’t her looks that made her a case. It was her attitude. In short, Evelyn was a snob.

      She was also in love with Paterson, who couldn’t stand her. He’d told me this on a number of occasions, and the fact I knew it and had shared it with both Penny and Jenn made me her target number one. Not that there was much she could do to me. I outweighed her and had a mean right cross.

      Gee, Nadia, you look terrible.

      This statement coming from the others had been cute, funny, and endearing, but coming from Evelyn it was spiteful. I glared at her and wiped my runny nose with the back of my hand. I then extended it.

      Good to see you, Evie. I stretched for her fingers, and she squealed and withdrew.

      Penny, Jenn, and Paterson were chuckling behind me.

      Don’t touch me. You’re sick, she said.

      You’ve gotten so smart. I’m impressed.

      She snarled at me, her lip curled. You’re never funny. Hard as you try. She flipped her hair over her shoulder, and I had this moment where Evelyn fit all the snotty-girl TV sitcom molds.

      She spotted Paterson and her face changed; she crossed her arms behind her back and

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