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294 pages, Kindle Edition
First published June 13, 2017
“He wanted Taylor Carr—but when he finally put his hands on her, he didn’t want it to be about Bradley. He wanted it to be about them.”
“How can you be a bartender, a journalist, and a n author, and still find all that time to drive me crazy>” ~ Taylor to Nick
“You forget that I have to share and office space with you two and your pheromones. The sexual tension’s excruciating.” ~ Brit to Taylor![]()
She was prickly, and she knew it. But she wished that, just once, someone would get it. That they would understand she wasn’t icy so much as careful. That she didn’t know how to show vulnerability or softness, not because she didn’t feel it, but because she’d spent the past twentysomething years being told that crying made you weak, feelings left you vulnerable, and the only person you could count on was yourself
It’s Friday night and you’re newly single. You should be wearing that red dress that makes your boobs look huge and working the club scene, not spending it with Sandra Bullock in your pajamas. I’ve done movie night four times this week. I need to get out, Tay. So do you.”
Taylor nodded toward the credits of While You Were Sleeping. “But Sandy gets me.”
“Well, that’s probably true,” Brit muttered as she rummaged in her purse. “She spent seventy percent of that movie thinking she was in love with the wrong guy.”
”… what’s Nick in your Taylor-is-the-sun scenario?”
“A prism,” Jess said without hesitation. “He takes your light and makes it even more awesome, for everyone to see.”
“If you weren’t dating him, would you have dinner with me?”
“I don’t like you,” she whispered.
He eased closer until his mouth was inches from her ear. “Liar.”
It was a whisper, and it sent shivers down her spine and then back up again. The good kind of shivers, the kind that made her want to lean into him and beg him to put his mouth all over her.
She hated being the newcomer— hated feeling vulnerable in any way for fear that someone would see right through her shield of confidence and call her out as a fraud. To expose her as what she really was on the inside: lonely. Maybe a little unlovable, if she wanted to get melodramatic about it.
Damn, but she really was beautiful.
“And I don’t get to be happy?” she said. “Bitchy Taylor deserves to be miserable, is that it?”
“Nah,” he said quietly, studying her. “I’m just not sure you’d recognize actual happiness if it bit you in your perfectly shaped ass.”
She slapped his hand away from her face. “Get. Out.”
He did.
Not because she’d told him to. But because for one idiotic moment, Nick had wanted nothing more than to kiss all that pouty anger right off Taylor Carr’s saucy mouth.
He’d been kind to her last night— hell, he’d been kind to her a lot more often than she deserved. But he’d never shown any interest in her as a woman, and . . . well, it bothered her.
While they were a roller coaster of emotions that I definitely enjoyed riding, I also had fun watching them learn more about each other. Especially since their enemy status almost started to look friendly at times. And lucky for us, we got to know what both of them were thinking, since we spent chapters with both of them. So yes, I definitely recommend this book! And I'm going to hold out hope and think positive that Brit Robbins and Hunter Cross are going to get their own book some day! Fingers crossed!!
PS I loved that Lincoln and Cassidy gave Nick advice from time to time. I adore those Oxford men!
Her door was open a crack, allowing the voice of nineties Alanis Morissette to blast through the entire apartment.
Nick wasn’t an idiot—any woman listening to “You Oughta Know” at this volume should be avoided.
Taylor lifted herself on her elbows and gave him a smirk. “Nick Ballantine, are you an ass man?”
“When it comes to you, I’m an everything man.”
She stared at the glass, then back up at him. “I’m getting the really annoying suspicion that beneath the scruff and scowls you’re actually a little bit sweet.”
“Never pegged you as a reader.”
“What did you think I did in my spare time, killed cats?”
“Nah. Men.”
“I’ve thought about it,” she muttered, taking a sip of wine.