June 25, 2015

Release Day Blitz: Excerpt & Giveaway! Broken Lullabies (Love of a Rockstar, #2) by Nicole Simone

Broken Lullabies
goodreads

His eyes as black as the the devils tongue

His melodic voice more tempting than a siren’s call 

Three years ago, Camille Barker was held at knife point but her attacker wasn't the one who haunted her dreams. No, it was the man that stood a-washed in the yellow glow of the street light, his stare observant but heedless. A witness to the senseless act. The venom that dripped from his twisted lips saved Camille's life and set her soul ablaze. Reemerging from the ashes, she set upon the well worn path her parent’s always dreamed she would take. 

That is until rock n roller, Matthew Lee, shows her that you can only bask in the sun so long before the monsters come out to play.

*Warning: This book contains some disturbing situations, strong language and sexual content. Over 18 years.


My attention quickly got diverted when a bell chimed over the front door and my eyes lifted. No. Panic roared to life. There were a million coffee shops dotting the city streets of Seattle and he came here. Why did I have such bad luck? Sliding my novel in front of my face, I slunk down into the chair as if that would render me invisible. Do not look over here Do not look over here I begged silently for reprieve. Heavy footsteps thumped against the floor, drawing closer. When they stopped, my heart did as well. The scent of Chanel Number Five confused my senses. "Camille?" Matthew stood next to my table dressed in a pair of dark washed jeans and a button up shirt, opened at the collar. The glasses he normally wore were gone, and I much preferred he’d worn them. His stormy grey eyes were discomfiting. "You smell like a woman," I blurted in greeting. A Cheshire cat-like smile spread across his face. "Is that so?" I met his smile with a scowl. The way he talked, in questions, dancing around whatever secrets he held up his sleeve, made want to slap him -- hard. "Yes, that’s so." Without asking if he could sit down, Matthew pulled out a chair and folded himself into the seat. Stretching out his long legs, he crossed his ankles and leaned back. My eyes rolled. "Please get comfortable. Stay a while," I said sarcastically. Another powerful hit of perfume made my head ache. With nobody behind me, my chair scooted a safe two inches away from him. I wished the windows were open though. Matthew's odd choice of deodorant was stinking up the place. His eyebrows bunched together. "Is it that bad?" "It's as if you rolled in a vat of flowers." "I took a shower after." "After?" Matthew smirked. After sex -- that's what he was hinting. Envy stabbed me in the solar plexus but I quickly batted it away. It's not like I wanted to tie Matthew to the bedposts and have my wicked way with him. "You’re disgusting," I remarked. "Why? Sex is perfectly healthy and natural." His pupils darkened. "Not to mention fun. Don't you find it fun, Camille?"

Nicole SimoneNicole Simone works in digital media by day and at night, pen's character driven romance novels that will make your mama blush. She lives in Los Angeles, C.A with her fat bulldog named Humphrey. She loves hearing from her readers and can be reached at authornicolesimone@gmail.com



Broken Lullabies Full

to cherishPageflex Persona [document: PRS0000038_00071]



Cover Reveal & Giveaway! Prickly Business, Portland Pack Chronicles #1 by Piper Vaughn & Kenzie Cade


Some people might call Avery Babineaux a prick. He’s a hedgehog shifter from an old-money Louisiana family with a penchant for expensive shoes and a reputation for being a judgmental snob. His attitude is why he and his fated mate are estranged. Not that Avery cares. He doesn’t want to be mated to some blue-collar werewolf anyway. Or so he keeps telling himself.


No werewolf likes to be looked down upon, least of all Dylan Green. He doesn’t need a mate, especially not some snotty hedgehog who sneers at his custom motorcycle shop and calls him a grease monkey. But when Avery gets into trouble with a shady loan shark, Dylan can’t stand by and let him be hurt—whether he wants the brat or not.

Yet once Dylan steps into Avery’s world, he realizes there’s more to Avery than his prickly exterior, and that unexpected vulnerability calls to Dylan’s protective instincts. The sassy little hedgehog needs a keeper, and despite their horrible first impressions, Dylan starts to believe he might be the wolf for the job.


Piper Vaughn 

Piper Vaughn wrote her first love story at eleven and never looked back. Since then, she’s known that writing in some form was exactly what she wanted to do. A reader at the core, Piper loves nothing more than getting lost in a great book—fantasy, young adult, romance, she loves them all (and has a two thousand book library to prove it!). She grew up in Chicago, in an ethnically diverse neighborhood, and loves to put faces and characters of every ethnicity in her stories, so her fictional worlds are as colorful as the real one. Above all, she believes that everyone needs a little true love in their life…even if it’s only in a book. 


Kenzie Cade 

Kenzie Cade was born and raised in the South where she spends her days in the sometimes stressful field of private medicine observing interesting people and committing them to memory for later use. When she isn’t reading, experimenting with recipes, or being distracted by social media, Kenzie spends time with her family, friends, and the Pomeranian/Long-haired Chihuahua mix who likes to keep her company while she writes. As a young girl, Kenzie dreamed of princesses and their white knights. As an adult (or sort of adult), she dreams of princes and their proverbial white knights, which she attributes the fellow Arkansan S.E. Hinton and her novel The Outsiders. Writing to keep the fictional voices at bay, Kenzie enjoys the journeys her characters travel to find their happy endings, and she loves the challenge of writing a great love story. Contact Kenzie at kenziecade.author@gmail.com. You can also find her online at her blog: kenziecade.wordpress.com; on Facebook at www.facebook.com/kenziecade.author; and on Twitter at http://twitter.com/thekenziecade.





Release Day Blitz: Excerpt & Giveaway!! The Forgotten Mountain (The Collectors' Society, #3) by Heather Lyons


After years spent in Wonderland, Alice Reeve learned the impossible was quite possible after all. She thought she left such fantastical realities behind when she finally returned to England.

Now Alice has become a member of the clandestine Collectors’ Society, and the impossible has found her again in the form of an elusive villain set on erasing entire worlds. As she and the rest of the Society race to bring this mysterious murderer to justice, the fight becomes painfully personal.

Lives are being lost. Loved ones are shattered or irrevocably altered. Each step closer Alice gets to the shadowy man she hunts, the more secrets she unravels, only to reveal chilling truths. If she wants to win this war and save millions of lives, Alice must once more embrace the impossible and make the unimaginable, imaginable.

Sometimes, the rabbit hole leads to terrifying places. 


The van door behind us slides shut. A click signals Marianne’s adherence to my wishes, and then we three descend upon the front door, the crunch of dead leaves and twigs beneath our feet cutting through the uneasy silence the gloom sunrise has brought. In a surprising show of gentlemanly manners, the A.D. moves to open the door. When the handle does not depress, a half smile curves his lips. “It’s locked. But no worries. I can have it picked open in no time.”

“There is no need.”

Darkish-blonde brows scrunch together. “But—”

“Stand to the side, please.”

When he fails to move at my thinly veiled order, Mary not so gently yanks our companion away.

The door before us is thick. The handle is ornate. It is a beautiful door, no doubt chosen specifically to adorn a building as fine as Bücherei. It takes me three strong, measured swings of my war hammer against the handle and its surrounding area to break it apart and permanently scar its beauty. Picking a lock is kind, respectful even. A picked lock can be relocked. I do not wish this door to close behind me. I do not wish to be respectful of Bücherei.

The time for genteel manners is gone.
The A.D. is in danger of catching flies with his mouth as he ogles the door’s remnants. For someone who professes to be so clever, he certainly underestimates ladies far too often.
Stale darkness, oppressive and opaque all at once, looms before us. I am unafraid, though. I am not even taken aback. I believe in the impossible, after all. I have seen, lived the impossible.
I step past the wreckage into the house.





Heather Lyons writes epic, heartfelt love stories and has always had a thing for words. In addition to writing, she’s also been an archaeologist and a teacher. She and her husband and children live in sunny Southern California and are currently working their way through every cupcakery she can find.







Excerpt & Giveaway!! Exposure (Exposure, #1) by Annie Jocoby

BOOK ONE OF A THREE BOOK TRILOGY

Photographer CJ Parker is a woman who has literally not gone outside for the past six months. She’s been hiding from the world, and from life, ever since an unimaginable tragedy forced her into seclusion.

On the one day where she decides to finally venture outside, she meets the mysterious billionaire, Asher Sloane. Dark-headed, magnetic, and gorgeous, Asher drips sex and animal magnetism. He draws CJ out of her shell and into the world, while showing her things that she never knew existed.

What CJ doesn’t know is that Asher has a dangerous past. Behind his beautiful blue eyes and confident demeanor lies dark secrets that, if they are brought to light, could mean the end of CJ and Asher’s relationship.

Will the exposure of Asher’s past destroy them?

Warning: This book has plenty of hot and steamy sex scenes featuring an alpha male who knows what he wants and knows exactly how to get it.


The real reason why I was so reluctant to tell him what happened to me was that I was ashamed. I was so ashamed of what I did. There wasn’t a moment of a day when I wasn’t filled with shame and regret. I beat myself up constantly, and I knew, I just knew, that this man would judge me. He would think that I was a horrible person. 
And he would be absolutely right.
He was still looking at me, with those beautiful blue eyes. I was getting goose pimples on my flesh, and my brain wouldn’t turn off. I was still mentally undressing him, and I could tell that his body was as sexy as the rest of him. He was dressed in a dress shirt, but I could see the outline of his pecs, abs and arms through the fabric. 
And his scent was intoxicating. It was soap and cologne and pure, pure man. 
He licked his lips, and I had to admit that I wanted them to be on me. On my body. All over my body. And, especially, on my lips. I just knew that he was an amazing kisser and I also knew that he would know just how to make me come.
Why was I thinking this? After all, this was the man who virtually kidnapped me. Granted, he was a perfect gentleman, so far, and he was going out of his way to make sure I got home okay. But, nonetheless, he was responsible for my being across town, away from my safety zone. 
He looked disappointed that I wasn’t going to tell him what had happened to me. But then he, quietly, let me know that he already knew.
“CJ,” he said. “I wanted you to tell me what caused you to seclude yourself, but I already know.”
Of course he knew. He was a reasonably intelligent guy, and I was sure that he read the newspaper and listened to the news. If he did, then he knew what had happened to me. 
Everybody did.
“Well, then,” I began. “Now that you know what kind of a person I am, I’m quite sure that this will be the last I’ll be seeing of you. And you really should have said something earlier to let me know that you already knew what kind of a tragedy I’ve experienced.”
His eyes were now looking sympathetic. “I certainly hope that this is not the last time I see you.” His face was so close to mine, I thought, for just a moment, he was going to kiss me. I closed my eyes, and bit my bottom lip. 
“Perhaps you hope to see me again, but I really don’t think that you’re going to. But I thank you for at least not recoiling in horror in being around the likes of me.”
He took a deep breath. “CJ,” he said. “What happened to you wasn’t your fault. I hope that you believe that. And your panic disorder can be overcome. I know that from personal experience.”
I looked down at my hands. “Thanks for your words, but they’re not doing any good. And you can’t just tell me to stop blaming myself and hope that your words will get through to me.”
It was then that I looked out the window and saw that my apartment building was looming right in front of me. “Thanks,” I said, “for getting me home.”
“I’m going to walk you into your apartment.”
“No,” I said. “I’ve got this.” I really didn’t, and, to be honest, the sedative was causing my legs to feel weak. 
At least, I told myself it was the sedative. In reality, I knew that this man was responsible for my sudden feeling of weakness. My body was feeling weak, and my spirit was certainly feeling weak. I felt like unbuttoning his shirt with my teeth. 
I got out of the limo, and my legs gave way.
Then, to my sheer embarrassment, Asher was right beside me, and he scooped me up in his strong arms. In spite of myself, I wrapped my arms around his neck, and put my head on his beating chest. “Fair warning,” I said. “I live on the fourth floor. And there’s no elevator.”
“I got this,” he said in a low voice. 
And he did. He walked up all four flights of stairs without ever breaking a sweat. 
We got to my apartment, and I turned to him, and held out my hand. “Thank you, Asher,” I said. 
He bowed his head and smiled. “I’ll be seeing you.”
And, in spite of myself, I really wished that he was right about that. 



Annie Jocoby is the author of 8 contemporary romance novels and 3 New Adult contemporary romance novels. Her motivation to begin writing these novels is that she was interested in writing about rich men who actually love and respect their women. Her heroes are alpha and damaged, yet also genuinely good guys.

Ryan, Nick, Luke and Asher are all complicated characters who have experienced plenty of darkness, yet always seek the light. They would all go to the ends of the earth to protect the women they love. And they’re all sexy, enigmatic, magnetic and great in bed. 

All of Annie’s books have things in common: they all combine a touch of mystery and intrigue with drama, love, and lots of hot sex. Some of the books have action and even some criminal elements in them. Her current book, in fact, is her first book that would be classified as straight romantic suspense, although it also combines definite elements of the thriller genre! If you’re in the market for a book that is fast-paced, where the heroes are beautiful and wealthy, and the heroines are strong, vulnerable and flawed, then try these books out!





June 24, 2015

Book Blast: Excerpt & Giveaway! Waiting for the Moon and You by L.J. LaBarthe



All his life, Leith has loved Aaron, and all his life, Leith has wondered if Aaron returns his feelings. Through high school, college, and beyond, Leith and Aaron are drawn together and pulled apart. Leith is finally convinced he and Aaron are not meant to be when a cowardly act of violence against Leith changes everything. 

Aaron returns to Leith's side, but Leith struggles to accept that Aaron can love him now. 

If Leith doesn’t overcome his doubts and fears, he will forever be waiting for the moon and Aaron… and true love.


“I miss those high school days, where the most pressing thing we had to worry about was whether we’d get a passing grade on a paper. I’m so pissed at myself that I missed the births of my niece and nephew. God, those kids are so adorable. And I missed the births of Aisha and Shahid’s twins! I’ve seen the photos on Facebook: they are such beautiful little girls. I’m real glad I’m home for her second pregnancy. I don’t want to be separate from my friends again. Or my family. God.” He shook his head. “I really am getting old.”

“Nostalgic isn’t old,” I said.

“Guess not. Anyway, what I most regret is something I’ve thought about off and on for years. Back in high school, since the prom, I kept thinking about one thing. I have to tell you this. I’ve had a crush on you forever. Since that night. I thought, why did I go to the prom with what’s-her-name, when I really wanted to go with you? And I know why, and it’s dumb, but I was scared that everyone would give me shit for being gay. Which I know I am now, not bi. I thought I was bi, but life and experience have taught me to be honest with myself, and I am completely gay. And I’m rambling. Shit. But. That was it. I’ve had a crush on you since high school, and I’m kicking myself for never doing anything about it.”

I had no idea what to say to him. His words filled me in ways I’d never imagined, and I had none of my own to respond with.

“Leith?”

“Wow,” I said.

“That a good wow or a bad wow?”

“It’s a wow wow. Just give me a minute.”

“Okay. But I want you to know that even though there’s this… thing I feel, I want us to be friends. We were friends first, and that’s the most important thing to me. Can we be friends still?” The question was asked in a plaintive tone.

I stopped walking, and turned to look at him. My knee gave a twinge, and I ignored it. Then was certainly not the time for a flare, I sternly told myself. No pain tonight!

“Aaron, I am completely floored. I have no idea what to tell you. Just one thing, of course we’re friends. Like you said, we were friends first, and that’s too damn important to me to throw away. The rest… god.” I ran a hand through my hair.

“Yeah, I didn’t think you’d like me back,” Aaron said.

“What?”

“It’s been too long, I know. Too much water under the bridge. So—”

“Shut up.” I reached for him before I knew what I was doing. I cupped his face between my hands, leaned in, and kissed him.

For a moment, a single heartbeat that felt as if it lasted forever, there was no reaction. And then Aaron leaned into me, his mouth opening to mine, his arms sliding around my waist, and he kissed me back. We stood together on the street, kissing each other as if our lives depended on it, as if the only way to survive was to draw oxygen from each other’s lungs. It felt so good, so natural, and so perfect that the only thing that went through my mind was Finally!


L.J. LaBarthe is a French-Australian woman, who was born during the Witching Hour, just after midnight. From this auspicious beginning, she went on to write a prize-winning short story about Humpty Dumpty wearing an Aussie hat complete with corks dangling from it when she was six years old. From there, she wrote for her high school yearbook, her university newspaper, and, from her early teens to her twenties, produced a fanzine about the local punk rock music scene. She loves music of all kinds and was once a classical pianist; she loves languages and speaks French and English and a teeny-tiny smattering of Mandarin Chinese, which she hopes to relearn properly very soon. She enjoys TV, film, travel, cooking, eating out, abandoned places, urbex, history, and researching.

L.J. loves to read complicated plots and hopes to do complex plot lines justice in her own writing. She writes paranormal, historical, urban fantasy, and contemporary Australian stories, usually m/m romance and featuring m/m erotica. She has won a Rainbow Awards Honorable Mention and another award for Best Historical Gay Novel.

L.J. lives in the city of Adelaide, and is owned by her cat.




Excerpt & Giveaway! Love and Cold Pie, Unlikely Partners #2 by Sandra Sookoo

LoveAndColdPie Cover
AmazonB&NiBooksARePublisher
Add to Goodreads

Real life crime solving can certainly put a damper on a romance.

When the biggest gossip in Newburg, Indiana ends up dead—with Sam Arnold’s dad the prime suspect—stuff gets real. It’s been a month and a half since she helped bring down a bad guy. It’s time to try her hand at a new case, especially since her boyfriend is out of town. Special Agent Mitchell has been saddled with a sexy, driven partner. Cutting corners or covering shortcuts with charm doesn’t work on her. He misses brainstorming with Sam, and now that her dad’s reputation is on the line, the pressure’s on. Evading his watchdog--and snooze-fest new assignment--is top priority. Time’s running out for Sam and Mitchell to solve the crime. His new partner’s special interest puts their romance in jeopardy and tries the relationship's trust, but an unlikely killer puts life into perspective. 


Angie, the daytime chef and owner for The Café, huffed over the line. "It's about time you answered. I've been calling non-stop for thirty minutes."

"Sorry. I'm trying to tidy up this pigsty. And my dad's missing."

"That's because he's over here. It's why I've been calling." Her no-nonsense tone held a troubled edge. "I think you should get down here right away." Angie had owned the café for twenty years. It was one of the longest surviving businesses in the tiny dollop of a business district in Newburg. "I take it you didn't listen to your messages?"

"No." Sam pulled the phone away long enough to see the little icon at the top of her display that indicated voicemail. She put the device back to her ear. "Just tell me what's going on. Did Dad hurt himself? Did he forget his wallet again?" That was a daily occurrence, prompting Sam to pay his tab when she clocked out on those days. She hoped her mom was enjoying the vacation from her dad, because he was going back at the first opportunity. He was. No more excuses.

"As far as I know he's not hurt, but then, I haven't examined him closely enough. I don't even know if I should have him wash off his hands in case there's evidence." The information, delivered in Angie's graveled voice, took on a sinister tone. "I mean, it is a crime scene, after all." That she'd tacked the last on deflated the rest of Sam's good mood.

"What?" Her pulse kicked up. She leaned her back against the front door as her knees shook. "What do you mean a crime scene?" Her words came out on a whisper. "What the heck happened?"

"Like I said, you'd better get down here. I don't think I can properly convey the whole thing over the phone. You need to see it for yourself."

"Is...?" Sam licked her lips. She forced a swallow through a suddenly tight throat. "Is Dad still alive?" Her head spun. It wasn't every day her father and the words "crime scene" came up in conversation. But then, she wouldn't put anything past her father, especially after that whole thing with the thugs and the bad agent fiasco of July.

"Of course he's alive!" Angie snorted. "If he wasn't, I'd have told you that right up front. Now, get down here. And he's complaining like there's no tomorrow." The line went dead. One good thing about her boss was she didn't mince words. Except, when Sam needed way more details than the other woman had been willing to divulge.

Sam clutched her smartphone to her chest. So, her dad wasn't dead, but he was a part of a crime scene? Was he the victim or the perp? Her heartbeat thrummed through her veins. A headache loomed behind her eyes as she scanned her memory for more crime terms. She shook her head then wiped her free hand on her jeans. Okay. No reason to panic. It's probably just a little misunderstanding. She'd go down to the café and straighten everything out then drag her dad back and read him the riot act.

No problem.

Sandra Sookoo

Sandra Sookoo is a bestselling author who firmly believes every person deserves acceptance and a happy ending. Most days you can find her creating scandal and mischief in the Regency-era, serendipity and happenstance in Victorian America or snarky humor in the contemporary world. Reading romance is a lot like eating fine chocolates—you can’t just have one. Good thing books don’t have calories!

When she’s not wearing out computer keyboards, Sandra spends time with her real life Prince Charming in central Indiana where she’s been known to goof off and make moments count because the key to life is laughter. A Disney fan since the age of ten, when her soul gets bogged down and her imagination flags, a trip to Walt Disney World is in order. Nothing fuels her dreams more than the land of eternal happy endings, hope and love stories.



Book Blast: Excerpt & Giveaway! Branded, Ash and Flames #1 by Ana J. Phoenix

Buy your copy HERE

Asher doesn’t like people, and people don’t like him. He’s cool with that—all he needs from them is sex, anyway. But when he’s suddenly thrust into a strange and dangerous world filled with magical creatures, joining forces with other people may just be the only way to survive. 

It’s not all bad though—in this new world, he can turn into a fire-breathing dragon! Which would be awesome if it weren’t for José, the pesky fire elf sharing his fate whose goal in life seems to be to stop Asher from ever having fun. José is hot, though and Asher wants to get into his pants just as much as he wants to get home. But José is also blind, and Asher has no clue how to charm a man without relying on his looks. 

Somehow, Asher has to show José that he’s more than a sex-obsessed pyromaniac with no filter between his brain and mouth. Preferably before either of them ends up dead. Civil war rages around them, and finding the way home isn’t going to be easy. And for Asher, getting there in one piece, and with his heart intact, might just prove impossible.


The ruins of a small town stretched out before Asher. Flames were nibbling at huts here and there, but most of the buildings had already burned out, leaving nothing but black, charred and empty shells of what they might have been. Smoke still rose in the air and made Asher’s eyes water as he walked deeper into the ghost town.

“Asher!” 

He turned around to see Blind Guy catch up with him. Judging by the dirt on his clothes, he'd either run into a tree on his way or kissed the ground. A leaf stuck to his hair. Door number one, then.

“You know you wouldn't crash into so many trees if you'd just let me burn them.”

“Never!” 

Asher stepped closer to him. “Let me take the decoration out.” He stroked the leaf out of Blind Guy’s hair. It was a little ridiculous, but when he drew his arm back, and he was face to face with Blind Guy, close enough to kiss, his only thought was Damn, I want you to fuck me.

“What?” Blind Guy furrowed his brow. 

Shit, had he said that out loud? Knowing himself, he probably had.


Ana is a writer of m/m romance and erotica. Her interest in hot guy-on-guy action was first sparked by reading scandalous Japanese mangas. A dirty secret she couldn’t resist. In a long bout of insanity – also known as her life — she decided to learn the language and escape to the land of sushi, sumo, and yaoi.

She’s since moved back to Europe to be with the love of her life – delicious European chocolate.Now she resides in the sunny part of Germany where she fills her days chasing her dreams and writing about men in complicated relationships. Her family believes she’s writing “erotic manga stories.” She’s pleased they got the erotic part right, at least.


Release Day Blitz: Excerpt & Giveaway! The Girl I Was Before, Falling #3 by Ginger Scott


I’m the selfish one. I suppose that’s the nicest thing people say about me. I’ve heard the other things, too. “Paige Owens is a pretty girl with nothing else to offer. She’s just a good time at a party. She’s stupid, heartless, cold and useless. All she cares about is getting a guy to look at her. Why would anyone want to be her friend?”

Some of those things are true. Others were true. They’re all hurtful.

None of it matters.

I’m ready to make the hard choices. I’m ready to face the consequences. I’m ready to be the girl I was before, and I’m done being the one who lost her way.

I’m ready to become the girl Houston Orr sees when he looks at me.

Houston isn’t a star athlete. He doesn’t play in a band. He’s never going to be president, and his life is so far away from simple and easy it isn’t even funny. He wasn’t part of my plan. But I’m starting to think plans are overrated, and maybe our stories are what we make them. And mine depends entirely on me, and the choices I make…starting now.

Houston is my fairytale. He’s perfectly imperfect. He’s poetry and life. He’s truth and heartbreak, all rolled up in a tall body with dark hair, broad shoulders and green eyes that lull me into submission. He’s nothing I ever thought I wanted, but the very thing I need. He’s the only guy I’ve ever really loved, and he thinks I’m a princess. I fell into him, and now I’m holding on.

But sometimes life takes away our ability to choose. Sometimes…things aren’t in your control. Sometimes, it hurts to be selfless. My only hope is that when it comes time to choose, I get it right.

Welcome to my once upon a time and wish for happily ever after.


I like you. I don’t wanna like you. But I do.

I have been repeating her words in my own head since I heard them. I’ve been saying them like a mantra because of that part of me that doesn’t want her to like me either. Because if she likes me, then maybe how I feel is okay too, and maybe acting on it is okay, and then shit gets real. What does that even mean? Shit gets real? Shit gets hard—that’s what it means. Real hard. I have to make time for someone else; I have to take a leap of faith and risk that my world will fall apart again. That’s what that means.

“I like you too, Paige,” I whisper. “And fuck if I don’t want to. But I do.”

I take a few seconds to jog in place, stretching my neck from side to side like I’m about to step into a fight. Maybe I am. But fuck it, shit got real a long time ago. What do I have to lose now?

“I’m not looking, I swear,” I say, keeping my eyes at the floor as I barge into the bathroom. I cannot believe I’m doing this.

“Out!” she yells from behind the shower curtain. “Not even funny. Not even clever. Out, you fuck stick, out!”

Her anger makes me laugh, and fuck stick? Really? 

“I have to brush my teeth. We’re pushing it close on time. I’ll be fast, and I’ll keep my face forward. I swear,” I say.

I’ve already brushed my teeth, but she doesn’t know that. I turn on the water and load up my brush. I hear the curtain slide behind me, and I know she’s looking at me. I don’t have to turn around or look into the reflection to know what her face looks like—her brow is furrowed and her lips are tight, and she’s making sure I’m keeping my promise. Don’t worry Paige; I won’t look. But I know you want me to.

I’m spitting into the sink and reaching for the towel by feeling, careful not to glance up, when I hear the water switch off and the curtain slide open. There’s no towel near her or the tub; I know it because I see them hanging on the rack several steps away. She’s cheating. 

I notice her shape move into my periphery to my right, and I glance briefly to catch her hand reach for the towel. When I see her back is to me, I go ahead and look long enough to take a mental picture. Her hair is soaking wet and dripping a line down her perfectly sun-kissed skin, a trail of water I let my eyes follow down her shoulder blades, to the small of her back, to an ass that is so perfect I wish I were the kind of asshole who would reach out and smack it at a time like this. I just hold my breath and memorize it instead. I turn back to the sink, lay my towel down, and move to leave.

“You looked,” she says, and I pause with my hand on the doorknob, the curves of her body now ingrained in my memory. I smile.

“Yeah, I did,” I say, before stepping into the hallway and shutting the door behind me.



Ginger Scott is an Amazon-bestselling author of eight young and new adult romances, including Waiting on the Sidelines, Going Long, Blindness, How We Deal With Gravity, This Is Falling, You and Everything After, Wild Reckless and The Girl I Was Before.
A sucker for a good romance, Ginger’s other passion is sports, and she often blends the two in her stories. (She’s also a sucker for a hot quarterback, catcher, pitcher, point guard…the list goes on.) Ginger has been writing and editing for newspapers, magazines and blogs for more than 15 years. She has told the stories of Olympians, politicians, actors, scientists, cowboys, criminals and towns. For more on her and her work, visit her website at http://www.littlemisswrite.com.
When she's not writing, the odds are high that she's somewhere near a baseball diamond, either watching her son field pop flies like Bryce Harper or cheering on her favorite baseball team, the Arizona Diamondbacks. Ginger lives in Arizona and is married to her college sweetheart whom she met at ASU (fork 'em, Devils).