Baya Brighton is looking forward to her first year at Whitney Briggs University, new friends, dorm life, and finally being close to her brother again. Love is the last thing on the list, but when Baya meets her brother’s roommate she begins to have thoughts and feelings that make even her blush.
Bryson Edwards has a secret he prefers buried in the past and long forgotten. He prefers loose girls, fast cars, and long nights working at the string of bars his family owns. When his roommate’s sister shows up on the scene, she’s far too innocent and sweet for him but he can’t shake Baya out of his mind and worse, it looks like she’s seeping into his heart as well.
Baya seems determined to show her brother she’s not a little kid and equally determined to use Bryson’s body to prove her point. It’s been made pretty clear that Baya is off limits to Bryson but their undeniable sparks explode into a whole lot more than just a few 3:AM KISSES.
(Baya’s point of view)
I’m pretty sure flashing your boobs at the hottest guy in a ten-mile radius isn’t the best way to meet new friends on move-in day.
“Shit!” I pull my tube top up, quick as a flicker, but it doesn’t matter, “the girls” have already made their startling debut right here in Founder’s Square in front of a demigod who’s witnessed the first of many embarrassing episodes I’m sure to have at Whitney Briggs. “I swear I don’t know how that happened.” I pluck and adjust, while struggling to hold onto the oversized duffle bag I’ve filled with all of my dad’s favorite books. When he died I sort of adopted them, and, now, I’m dragging them around like a body. It was the one bag I didn’t check and thankfully so since the airline sent the rest of my things to Kansas. “It’s like a ghost just pulled it down. Stupid top.”
“I don’t think it’s stupid.” He gives a lopsided grin and my insides squeeze tight. He’s gorgeous, and built, and way the hell out of my league. “I think it’s friendly.” He dips his gaze to my cleavage again as if waiting for a reprisal.
“It’s not friendly, and neither am I.”
I’m pretty sure flashing your boobs at the hottest guy in a ten-mile radius isn’t the best way to meet new friends on move-in day.
“Shit!” I pull my tube top up, quick as a flicker, but it doesn’t matter, “the girls” have already made their startling debut right here in Founder’s Square in front of a demigod who’s witnessed the first of many embarrassing episodes I’m sure to have at Whitney Briggs. “I swear I don’t know how that happened.” I pluck and adjust, while struggling to hold onto the oversized duffle bag I’ve filled with all of my dad’s favorite books. When he died I sort of adopted them, and, now, I’m dragging them around like a body. It was the one bag I didn’t check and thankfully so since the airline sent the rest of my things to Kansas. “It’s like a ghost just pulled it down. Stupid top.”
“I don’t think it’s stupid.” He gives a lopsided grin and my insides squeeze tight. He’s gorgeous, and built, and way the hell out of my league. “I think it’s friendly.” He dips his gaze to my cleavage again as if waiting for a reprisal.
“It’s not friendly, and neither am I.”
Addison Moore is a New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author who writes contemporary and paranormal romance. Previously she worked as a therapist on a locked psychiatric unit for nearly a decade. She resides on the West Coast with her husband, four wonderful children and two dogs where she eats too much chocolate and stays up way too late. When she's not writing, she's reading.
~*~
No comments:
Post a Comment