Little Kisses autor Bella Johnson

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Little Kisses
Little Kisses

Little Kisses

Romans

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Sequel to 'Snow Kissed' Amy Black is back in her so-called perfect reality. Her apartment, her shoes, her new car and most importantly, her job. But when Amy starts to slip up, making mistakes, forgetting meetings and thinking a lot about the one person she shouldn’t — she never imagines the actual reason why and it’s the one reason her life will never be the same again.

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Romans

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Aug 30, 2025

I pried my eyes open from my deep sleep. I didn’t want to get up; I wanted to lie there forever. My laziness had turned into a daily occurrence. Especially over the past month and a half, and it wasn’t letting up.

My feet dragged across my bamboo fiber rug, and I ended up in the bathroom, staring at my pale face as I flipped the water on at the sink.

I brushed my teeth first, then my hair, then the agony of needing to dress.

Maybe I was depressed? No, that couldn’t be it. Depressed people were weird, and that was my only reasoning against the state of being.

I opened my drawers and found my typical attire of a buttoned-up executive and half heeled pumps. It was Monday, and that meant I had to look fresh and decently put together.

In between slipping my pantyhose on, the need for food interrupted, and I was out of my room quick.

I stopped at my stainless steel fridge and popped it open, looking through my options.

Though I had few, none was appealing. I decided to dodge instant breakfast and pick it up from the deli on my way to work.

I slammed the door of the fridge and got my purse and work bag in order. Pulling my wool peacoat on, the buttons I tugged together and groaned. I hadn’t been eating that much!

I grumbled in displeasure and left my uptown apartment.

Checking my phone as I rode the elevator down, the emails loaded in from the weekend, and my face couldn’t stop the displeased wrinkle forming across my forehead.

Not wanting to look at it further, I put the massive cell phone in my jacket pocket.

A guy in front of me turned and smiled as I waited in line at the deli.

Don’t you see the large RUN sign, idiot?

I was going on one of those celibate kicks again; it involved wine and no men. It had worked before; It would work again. Maybe that was the reason I liked my bed so much lately; my lush practices were catching up on me.

“Miss Amy!” The man at the counter beamed at me.

I forced myself to smile. “Morning, Gerald. How are you?”

“Good, good. Do you want your regular?”

Breakfast regular? I thought it, though. “I don’t know, don’t you have anything with bacon or maybe sausage?” My mouth started to water.

He paused and looked me over, then burst into a laugh.

I was confused at why he was laughing. “You don’t?”

He stopped, noticing I wasn’t joking around. “Yes, of course, but you—”

I lifted an eyebrow, and he got to work making what I wanted, I had that effect on people. The hurry up and do as I say effect. Sometimes, I didn’t like my bitch-card but most of the time, I owned it.

~~~

One coffee hadn’t been enough.

“Amy!”

I shot up from my desk that I had been strategically slumped over in a slumber.

“Amy.”

I rubbed my eyes, my mascara rubbing with it.

Elizabeth walked across the white carpets. “What are you doing?”

I mumbled as I fixed my hair and pushed my bangs away from my forehead. “Nothing.”

“Were you asleep?”

“No.”

“Yes, you were.” She pointed her bony index finger at me. “What’s wrong with you lately?”

“What are you doing in here?” I didn’t want to answer her questions cause they all led back to him.

“It’s lunch.”

I perked up. “Oh, thank god, I’m starving!”

“You are?” She watched me as I got up and smoothed out the mess of my hiked up skirt.

I nodded. “Yeah, I haven’t eaten since seven.”

“Well, uh—” Elizabeth watched me. “Okay. Where do you want to go?”

“Pizza or something,” I said quickly, finding my coat.

“Pizza?” She looked at me like it’d lost my mind, I was beginning to get used to that expression. “Like the kind that’s greasy and full of fat?”

“If you don’t want to wreck your figure, I’m sure they have healthier options for you.” I slipped my jacket on and headed for the door.

Elizabeth laughed. “Says the girl who lived on vegetables the past year.”

“I’m way over that.”

“I know but still.”

“Are we going to sit here and talk or are we going to eat?”

“Eat.” Elizabeth headed for the office door, and I was right at her side. “So, Steve’s working late tonight.”

I nodded, glancing at my blackberry as we stopped in front of the elevator.

“Do you want to do something later?”

“I don’t know. I feel sick. This morning I was a wreck.”

“Maybe you should go home and rest?”

I wrinkled my nose. “No.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes as we stepped into the steel box. “How long have you been feeling sick?”

I shrugged. “Few days, nothing major.”

“Have you been throwing up?”

I wanted to hit her; sometimes she could get too concerned. “No.”

“What are your other symptoms?” She yapped in my ear.

“I don’t have symptoms.”

“Fatigue, need to consume foods of the fat kind, pale-faced, grouchy—”

Finally, the doors dinged open to the bottom floor.

“Where are you going with this, Beth?” Seeing the pizza place across the street, I headed straight for it.

Elizabeth followed diligently like she always did.

Just as we stepped inside the parlor, the smell hit me, awful and putrid. I put a hand on my stomach and held back my new disgust.

Elizabeth got in line, and I followed with weak steps. “So, did you want to do something after work? Maybe drinks?”

“Sure.” I shrugged, the room starting to blur around me.

“Amy?” Elizabeth turned to me.

I covered my mouth and then ran to the back of the pizza place, busting open the nearest door and falling to my knees in front of a stinky toilet.

“Amy! Are you okay?” Elizabeth rushed into the stall, whisking my hair from my face.

I stopped heaving and stood, my legs shaking, my hands worse.

“Hun, are you okay?” She rubbed my back.

I flushed the toilet, wiping my mouth with a tissue.

“Amy?”

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” I mumbled, walking to a sink so I could wash out my mouth.

“You need to go home. I’ll take you.”

I spat out another mouthful of water and shook my head. “No, I’m alright.”

“Amy, what will Doug say if you puke on him at the three o’clock meeting?”

I winced at the realism as I stared at my droopy eyed, pale-faced, sweaty complexion in the mirror.

“You’re going home.” Elizabeth pressed her hand to my forehead. “Maybe it’s food poisoning?”

That seemed like a legitimate explanation. “If it’s that, how long does that usually last for?”

Elizabeth stared at me, catching on to my interest. “How long have you been feeling like this?”

“I few days. Four, five. . a week?”

“Amy!” She exclaimed, “That’s way more than a few days.”

“Well, I don’t know! I’ve been working!”

“Amy.” She stared at me with her big Elizabeth eyes, as she leaned in with a whisper, “are you pregnant?”

I blinked several times, trying to figure out if she had really just asked me what she had. Then I physically screamed, “What!”

She grabbed my hands and tried to calm me. “It’s okay.”

“Are you crazy!” I snapped at her, “I’m on birth control. Plus you have to be having sex to get pregnant. I’m a celibate loser!” I exclaimed, then cupped my mouth in astonishment.

“Amy, you’re not a loser.”

“Let’s go back, I need to finish that report.”

“You’re going home, Amy.” Elizabeth took my hand and led me out of the bathroom, through the hole in the wall restaurant and out into the city.

I protested against my need to fall into a bed. “No, I feel a lot better no—”

“Till you spew again. You need to rest; you’ve been sick all morning.”

In all truths, it was a bad day it seemed. I was so out of it, not even screwing over that other company had seemed fun. “Fine, but Doug is going to flip out.”

“Amy, when was the last time you even thought of taking a sick day?”

I thought a moment. “Does vacation count?”

“No.” Elizabeth shook her head. “That so far from counts. Call Doug.”

“We’ll just go up there, I’ll talk to him,” I suggested.

Elizabeth looked me over, as I stood in front of our office building, feeling uncomfortable under the scrutiny of her stare.

“What are you looking at?” I snapped.

“You look like you went through a food processor.”

I turned to the window to check myself again, I did look horrid, even more so than in the pizza parlor. “Shit.”

“Yeah,” Elizabeth said, “Just call him.”

I rolled my eyes and took my phone from my jacket pocket, hitting the top number, because Doug was the only one I ever talked to.

He picked up on the third ring, like usual. “Amy.”

“Hi.” I didn’t want to go home, meetings, meetings, meetings is all that played through my mind.

“Are you ready for the phone conference at three?”

“Doug, I hate to do this, but I’m sick.”

“Sick?” he echoed. I could imagine him sitting at his desk, making that disturbed face that he did when I gave him less than thrilling news.

“Yeah.” I finally said, “I just threw up and I’m a mess. I just can’t do it.”

“Well, hell, this never happens to you, Amy.”

I wasn’t sure if he was getting upset or not, but I tried to ease him. “I know, I don’t know what’s wrong . . .”

“Well, you better go home and get back here tomorrow.”

“Yep, thanks, Doug.”

“See you tomorrow.” He grumbled, and the line ended.

I knew it hadn’t gone over that smoothly, but it was better than him freaking on me. “Okay.”

Elizabeth nodded. “Cool. Let’s go.”

I let her drag me to a cab, even if my apartment was only a ten-minute walk and then we were in a back seat, the motion of vehicle already bugging me.

“So, do you feel a bit better?”

“Not really.”

“Amy, I think you should take a test.”

I didn’t understand her, did she think I was the Virgin Mary or something.“Beth, there’s no way I’m pregnant. I haven’t been with,” I lowered my voice once I noticed the taxi driver listening in, “I haven’t been with anyone.”

She lifted her eyebrow in suspicion. “What about Ean? That was like six or seven weeks ago, wasn’t it?”

“We need to get out!” I shouted, handing the driver a twenty as I fled the car.

Elizabeth was behind me, running to catch up as I sped down the sidewalk. “Amy!”

I swung around to face her, my emotional turmoil exploding in every direction. “Don’t say anything about him!”

“Hun, I’m sorry.”

My eyes began to water upon the subject of someone I’d been spending way too much time thinking about. “I can’t believe you would bring him up!”

“Well, Amy—”

“No, I can’t do this!” I begun to walk away.

“Amy.” Elizabeth persisted at my side. “I wasn’t trying to make you upset. You just don’t seem yourself.”

“I’m fine.” I started to actually cry, and at that very moment, I knew I was far from fine. I needed to forget the whole entire morning by some blessed miracle, though I was sure my wish would not come true.

Elizabeth looped her arm around my shoulders but it hardly comforted me. “Are you sure?”

I stopped in front of my apartment building, getting myself together the best I could. “I can go up myself,” I told her, ignoring her emotional need to talk me through my feelings.

“Oh, Amy,” her voice broke.

“See you later.” I trudged towards my door with a blotchy game face on.

“I’ll come by after work!” She called from behind.

I waved a hand in dismal and entered the glass doors, happy I was going home to bed and not my corner office.

Little Kisses

Little Kisses

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