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At a freshman party she doesn't remember, Jess Jordan was almost raped. Almost. Very nearly. Not quite.
Three years later, Jess has managed to make everyone believe she's better. Over it. Because she is. Almost. Very nearly. Not quite.
Unfortunately, until Jess proves she's back to normal activities, her parents won't discuss college. So, she lands a summer internship and strikes a deal with hockey jock, Gray He gets $8,000. She gets a fake boyfriend and a social life.
Jess has no idea Gray signed on for reasons other than money. She also never expects to fall in love. But Gray’s amazingly hot, holds her hand all the time, and makes her forget that he’s simply doing his job. It’s like having a real boyfriend. Almost. Very nearly. Not quite.
Gray Porter is hiding secrets of his own. About Jess Jordan. About why he’s driven to protect her, why he won't cash her checks, or deny her anything she asks.
367 pages, Kindle Edition
First published February 1, 2012



"Even though it's totally fake, every second with that black haired, green-eyed boy is better than anything I've ever known. You must understand a little why I don't want to let it go. For me, this is all I'll ever get to have."

"I'll do everything in my power to not let her fall. If she does, then I'm going with her. All the way."
I almost liked this.
I almost enjoyed Jess Jordan.
Her sister, Kiki, was almost endearing.
Grey and Jess' inner ramblings were almost delightful.
The leads almost communicated.
These characters were almost relatable.
Grey almost sounded like a guy.
Jess' idiocy was almost understandable.
The writing was almost readable.
The exclamation points almost had me going up the walls.
Rape was almost handled well.
And I almost DNF'd it.
...Almost. Very nearly. Not quite.





Almost. Almost.
How I hate that word and the way it defines me.
Almost raped. Almost over it. Almost normal.
I can almost forget. Way worse, I can almost remember.


Lucky. Lucky. Lucky girl.
Nothing happened.
Nothing happened.
Person slaughtered: Me.
Method used: Dimple.
The guy has a dimple. Of course he does. To match the Hollywood chin divot. To make the lump on my forehead pound even harder.
Pointes for Gray Porter: 3,000,000-bajallion, trillion to the millionth power.
I'm living in fiction. It's perfectly okay to be in love with any and all fictional boyfriends, even if they aren't yours.
If only Gray Porter had never wandered into my dreams.
Including the good, waking ones.

"He's so good at his job, that I've fallen for him, the mirage of him being my boyfriend, all of it. Like everyone else. Like an idiot."
"I love it. I mean - it's great. You - how beautiful you look. It threw me off. And you have no idea how much I love peach pie, a-la-mode. Sorry... sue me, dock my pay, but damn, girl. You've turned me into a stuttering fool."

"I'll make sure you forget every guy but me, Jess Jordan. And that's a promise I mean to keep."
Oh, that voice.








“I know I’m acting crazy but I’m in love with this girl. Major love. And I have no idea what to do about it, so it’s messing with my sanity.”