WEDNESDAY by Kendall Ryan Release Blitz

hump day avail now (1)












No strings attached.

It’s not what I really want, but it's all he has to offer. He's filled with turmoil and heartache and regrets, but for two hours every Wednesday all he feels is me. How much I desire him, how desperate he makes me, how much I'd like things to be different between us. Real.

ebook WedHe used to be my best friend back before he got married. And now? Now, he’s a young widower. It'd be wrong on so many levels to expect something more from him. So I give him what he needs. Dark delicious fucking. But I know I can’t keep this up. I've already given him my body, my soul. I want him to have my heart. It might drive him away forever, but that’s a risk I’m forced to take.

Wednesday is an angsty romp told from dual points of view. If you’re in the mood for something quick and dirty, you’ve found it. Proceed at your own risk.

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“It’s almost like you were waiting for me.” He treated me to a rare
devilish grin.

The ass. Of course I was waiting for him. I gave his chest a playful
shove, but rather than it pushing him away, he stepped closer,
crossing the threshold to invade my space. And my heart kicked up
speed in anticipation.

He was my drug. Bold. Intoxicating. Addictive.

“How was your day?” I asked, trying to keep things light.

He gave me a panty-melting grin, and that was when I knew there
wouldn’t be any pleasantries tonight. I guess I wasn’t surprised. He’d
tried to fuck me in his office  a couple days ago, totally taking me
by surprise. He must be particularly wound up.

“My day was fine, Sunshine. Now, come here.”

He offered me his hand, and I took it. Sliding his grasp around my
wrist, he tugged me close so I was right up flush against his chest. I
wondered if he could feel the pounding rhythm of my heart. His own
heartbeat was steady and calm.

“You teased me the other day,” he said, trailing one fingertip down
the side of my cheek. “Wearing that little sundress. I wanted to hike
it up your thighs and watch you ride my face.”

I shivered in his arms. “If you expect me to say sorry, I’m not.”

He chuckled darkly. “As long as you understand I’m going to make up
for it tonight.”







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About the Author

A New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today bestselling author of more than a dozen titles, Kendall Ryan has sold over 1.5 million books and her books have been translated into several languages in countries around the world. She's a traditionally published author with Simon & Schuster and Harper Collins UK, as well as an independently published author. Since she first began self-publishing in 2012, she's appeared at #1 on Barnes & Noble and iBooks charts around the world. Her books have also appeared on the New York Times and USA Today bestseller lists more than three dozen times. Ryan has been featured in such publications as USA Today, Newsweek, and InTouch Magazine.
Visit her at: www.kendallryanbooks.com for the latest book news, and fun extras
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DIRTY LOVE by Meghan March - Release Day Launch

DL Available Now








DL AMAZON (1) (1)Greer Karas has been mine since the first day I saw her.

I walked away because she deserved better than I could offer, but I always planned to come back and stake my claim when the time was right.

But true to form, Greer wasn't willing to wait. She threw down a challenge, and I’m meeting her head-on.

I’m not walking away this time because sometimes you have to fight dirty for love.

iBooks | Amazon | Amazon Paperback | Kobo | BN





Right now, I just want Cav. I might still want to kill him later, but not right this moment.

I suck his finger into my mouth, laving it with my tongue and lips and dragging lightly down it with my teeth.

As we hurtle down the runway, I make promises to him with my eyes. Take the restraints off or don’t; I’m still going to want you.

Cav reaches out with his other hand and cups my breast, covered only by the soft material of my thin T-shirt. Chill bumps prickle along my skin when his fingers close around my nipple and twist.

A moan escapes my lips, and I press into his touch. We say nothing until the captain announces that we’ve reached our cruising altitude.

Cav removes his seat belt and mine before hauling me back onto his lap.

“Jesus Christ, woman. Feel what you did to me.”

He presses his hips up and against me, and I wiggle my ass against his cock’s solid length.

“I want it.”

“Good, because I’m going to lower you onto your knees, unzip my pants, and help you take it down your throat. And then I’m going to lift you up on my lap and slide your pussy down my cock until you’re full of me.”

His dirty talk kills me every time.

“What are you waiting for?” I ask, my tone taking on a seductive depth.

“Need to taste you again first.”

His lips crush to mine, and his tongue dives inside without waiting for invitation. Cav kisses like he does everything else—throwing his whole self into it. His hand is buried in my hair, tilting my head the way he likes. I moan into his mouth, loving the urgency radiating from him.

Finally, he pulls my head back, his eyes greener than before. “On your knees, baby girl.”

I nod as he helps me to the floor, the plush carpeting cushioning my position. Cav unzips his jeans and fists his cock as he pulls it out. As I lean forward, my hair falls around my face, but with my bound hands, I’m helpless to pull it back.

Cav wraps one hand around the tangled strands and clenches it behind my head. I’m at his mercy, and yet I’ve never felt more powerful. The need in his eyes burns into me, and I want to give as much as I want to take.









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Desperately seeking rich, famous, single guy with a giant cock to make my lying, cheating, should’ve-been-born-dickless ex-boyfriend realize what he’s just lost.

Oh, and I give great head. Just sayin’.

No man in his right mind would answer that ad.

DG AMAZONExcept thousands did.

My name is Greer Karas, and I should never be allowed near another bottle of booze again. Because when I drink, my friend and I do stupid things. Like take a page out of my older brother Creighton’s playbook and post something completely asinine on the Internet. Waking up with a giant hangover to find my humiliating personal ad has gone viral is not my finest moment.

Cue my look of shock when one of Hollywood’s hottest new bad boys, Cavanaugh Westman, comes knocking at my door and drops his pants to prove that he does indeed have a giant cock.

What he doesn’t have is an explanation for why he disappeared from my life without a word three years ago, only to show up on the big screen two years later, killing bad guys in action flicks.

And now he wants me again.

What the hell do I do now?


iBooks | Amazon | Amazon Paperback | Kobo | BN | Google Play | Audible





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About the Author

Meghan March has been known to wear camo face paint and tromp around in woods wearing mud-covered boots, all while sporting a perfect manicure. She's also impulsive, easily entertained, and absolutely unapologetic about the fact that she loves to read and write smut. Her past lives include slinging auto parts, selling lingerie, making custom jewelry, and practicing corporate law. Writing books about dirty talking alpha males and the strong, sassy women who bring them to their knees is by far the most fabulous job she's ever had. She loves hearing from her readers at meghanmarchbooks@gmail.com.

Staci Hart's Wasted Words Release Day Launch



Today is the release day for Wasted Words by Staci Hart! I am so excited to share this fantastic new book from Staci. Check it out and be sure to grab your copy today!

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About Wasted Words:

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Some universal truths refuse to be ignored.



Peanut butter and jelly are a match made in heaven. Spaghetti and meatballs are best friends forever. And guys like Tyler Knight don’t go for girls like Cam Emerson.



She knew from the second she met him that he didn’t belong on her bookshelf, the six-foot-six ex-tight end with a face so all-American, it could have sold apple pie. So she shelved him next to the supermodels and rock stars and took her place on her own shelf — the one with the flannel-clad, pasty-faced comic book nerds. Most of her boyfriends have existed between the pages of books, but rather than worrying over her own lacking love life, she puts all her energy into playing Cupid, using her job at the book bar, Wastedd Words, as her stomping ground.



Tyler Knight always looks on the bright side. His career-ending injury turned into a job as a sports agent. A horrible breakup led him to Cam, his quirky, smart roommate who is far more beautiful than she realizes. She’s made it perfectly clear she’s not interested in him — not like that at least — but if she ever changes her mind, he won’t hesitate. Because he doesn’t see the lines she’s drawn between them, as much as she insists that they’re there. Deep down he knows that despite their differences, they’re a match well made.



*A romantic comedy inspired by Jane Austen’s Emma*

Grab your copy:

Amazon US - Amazon UK -





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About Staci Hart:



Staci has been a lot of things up to this point in her life: a graphic designer, an entrepreneur, a seamstress, a clothing and handbag designer, a waitress. Can't forget that. She's also been a mom, with three little girls who are sure to grow up to break a number of hearts. She's been a wife, even though she's certainly not the cleanest, or the best cook. She's also super, duper fun at a party, especially if she's been drinking whiskey. Her favorite word starts with f and ends with k.



From roots in Houston, to a seven year stint in Southern California, Staci and her family ended up settling somewhere in between and equally north, in Denver. They are new enough that snow is still magical. When she's not writing, she's sleeping, cleaning, or designing graphics.



Connect with Staci:


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DIRTY GIRL by Meghan March - Release Day

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DG AMAZONDesperately seeking rich, famous, single guy with a giant cock to make my lying, cheating, should’ve-been-born-dickless ex-boyfriend realize what he’s just lost.

Oh, and I give great head. Just sayin’.

No man in his right mind would answer that ad.

Except thousands did.

My name is Greer Karas, and I should never be allowed near another bottle of booze again. Because when I drink, my friend and I do stupid things. Like take a page out of my older brother Creighton’s playbook and post something completely asinine on the Internet. Waking up with a giant hangover to find my humiliating personal ad has gone viral is not my finest moment.

Cue my look of shock when one of Hollywood’s hottest new bad boys, Cavanaugh Westman, comes knocking at my door and drops his pants to prove that he does indeed have a giant cock.

What he doesn’t have is an explanation for why he disappeared from my life without a word three years ago, only to show up on the big screen two years later, killing bad guys in action flicks.

And now he wants me again.

What the hell do I do now?



 iBooks ✻ Amazon ✻ Kobo ✻ BN




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About Meghan March

Meghan March has been known to wear camo face paint and tromp around in woods wearing mud-covered boots, all while sporting a perfect manicure. She's also impulsive, easily entertained, and absolutely unapologetic about the fact that she loves to read and write smut. Her past lives include slinging auto parts, selling lingerie, making custom jewelry, and practicing corporate law. Writing books about dirty talking alpha males and the strong, sassy women who bring them to their knees is by far the most fabulous job she's ever had. She loves hearing from her readers at meghanmarchbooks@gmail.com.









SMUT by Karina Halle - Release Day Blitz



Smut 0 days


What happens when the kink between the pages leads to heat between the sheets?

Smut AMAZON - CopyAll Blake Crawford wants is to pass his creative writing course, get his university degree and take over his dad’s ailing family business. What Amanda Newland wants is to graduate at the top of her class, as well as finally finish her novel and prove to her family that writing is a respectful career.

What Blake and Amanda don’t want is to be paired up with each other for their final project but that’s exactly what they both get when they’re forced to collaborate on a writing piece. Since Amanda thinks Blake is a pushy asshole (with a panty-melting smirk and British accent) and Blake thinks Amanda has a stick up her ass (though it’s brilliant ass), they fight tooth and nail until they discover they write well together. They also might find each other really attractive, but that’s neither here nor there.

When their writing project turns out to be a success, the two of them decide to start up a secret partnership together using a pen name, infiltrating the self-publishing market in the lucrative genre of erotica. Naturally, with so much heat and passion between the pages, it’s not long before their dirty words become a dirty reality. Sure, they still fight a lot but at least there’s make-up sex now.

But even as they start to fall hard for each other, will their burgeoning relationship survive if their scandalous secret is exposed or are happily-ever-afters just a work of fiction?

iTunes | Nook | Kobo



She holds my gaze for a moment and something passes over her. Regret, maybe. Then she nods. “Sit down. Let’s work.”
And so we do. And for the first time in a long time, it’s strained. I’m about to suggest maybe we need the Estonian vodka anyway when she lets out an exasperated sigh over something she’s reading.
It happens to be something I wrote.
“What?” I ask, wondering what I did wrong.
She gives me the the 'are you kidding me?'look. “Okay, I was ignoring it earlier but I think you need to get a grip on some of this shit. This simply does not happen.”
“Explain, please.”
“I just think it’s unrealistic for there to be so much talking, let alone the fact that the first time they do it it’s in a public place.”
“Too much talking?”
“Yeah.” she scans over the document. “You know, give me your cock, oh you feel so good, harder, harder, you’re so big, fuck me harder big boy.”
“Have you even had good sex?” I ask incredulously.
She flinches. “Of course I have. And it’s none of your business.”
“We’re writing about sex. It’s completely my business. I’m not letting you interject your edits based on your personal experiences about sex because believe me, if the sex is good, you’re moaning my name.”
She raises her chin. “Maybe all those girls were faking it.”
Oh, brilliant.
“Excuse me?” I say, hands pressed against the table, nearly getting out of my chair. “You have no idea. I pride myself in giving a girl as many bloody orgasms as she can handle.”
“Bloody orgasms don’t sound like fun,” she jokes softly.
“They can be if you’re into knife play,” I tell her, even though that’s not exactly what I meant. Still, she scrunches up her nose. “Don’t knock it until you try it, but that’s neither here nor there. When you were with Alan, he must have made you come at least a few times.”
If he didn’t, I feel like finding the guy and showing him a thing or two for wasting four years of her life.
“Yeah,” she says flatly.
“And in the middle of that orgasm, didn’t you want to yell a few things?”
“Sometimes.”
“And why didn’t you?”
She looks at her nails as if they’re suddenly fascinating. “It didn’t seem right. It was…too intimate. I would have felt dumb. He didn’t like any of that stuff.”
The plot thickens. “Any of what stuff?”
“Sex that didn’t involve the missionary position or the bed.”
My mouth drops open. My brain and penis can’t compute this. “I feel so sorry for you.”
We must remedy this.
She glares at me. “It’s not like I didn’t want to do it. I did. And he did try it. Most of it. But it always went back to the same old.”
I knew it. She’s a nerd on the streets and a freak in the sheets.
“I don’t mean to brag,” I tell her in all seriousness. “But you do realize that I could give you an orgasm in thirty seconds.”
Her eyes widen. I can’t tell if she’s horrified or intrigued. “I don’t believe you and I don’t want you to try.”
She’s not getting it. I frown, trying to explain. “If you’re having good sex and it’s with someone you’re comfortable with, you won’t worry about holding back. You’ll cry out all the nonsense you want, you’ll make noises like a pig and scream like you’re on fire because you truly can’t have a good orgasm unless you’re letting go on all accounts.” I lean back in my chair and study her, running my fingers along my jaw. “I would venture that every time you came with your ex, you were only experiencing half of what you should have been. How is it with your vibrators?”
I expect her to tell me to fuck off, that I’m getting too personal but to my surprise she gives me a small smile. “It’s better. But I do have a roommate with exceptionally good hearing.” She clears her throat. “Anyway, so I guess I’m wrong. The heroine can make all the noise she wants.”
“And have first time sex in public.”
“I don’t know…”
“Believe me, when you finally get a chance to fuck, you don’t care where it is. That’s why I always have a condom in my pocket. And the more public the sex, the sneakier you have to be, the hotter it is.”
“But in the book you would never get caught.”
“You don’t always get caught in real life too.”
I can see she wants to ask me where I’ve done it but she loses her nerve. “Okay.” She looks back to the document. “I accept defeat.”
But I don’t want her to. I want to prove to her I’m right and not have her take my word.
Is there a non-creepy way to show her just how amazing good sex can feel? I’m thinking not.
Or…maybe there is.



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 About Karina Halle

Karina Halle is a former travel writer and music journalist and The New York Times, Wall Street Journal and USA Today Bestselling author of The Pact, Racing the Sun, Sins & Needles and over 25 other wild and romantic reads. She lives on an island off the coast of British Columbia with her husband and her rescue pup, where she drinks a lot of wine, hikes a lot of trails and devours a lot of books.

Halle is represented by the Waxman Leavell Agency and is both self-published and published by Simon & Schuster and Hachette in North America and in the UK.

Hit her up on Instagram at @authorHalle, on Twitter at @MetalBlonde and on Facebook. You can also visit www.authorkarinahalle.com and sign up for the newsletter for news, excerpts, previews, private book signing sales and more.

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Blog Tour: J. Sterling's Dear Heart, I Hate You

DEAR HEART, I HATE YOU - Tour banner

New York Times Bestselling author J. Sterling brings readers a tantalizing tale of love and redemption in her newest contemporary romance DEAR HEART, I HATE YOU. Be sure to check out the the giveaway below and grab your copy of this amazing book today!





DEAR HEART, I HATE YOU - cover

About DEAR HEART, I HATE YOU:

I didn’t plan on him.

Or for him.

Or anything that had to do with Cal Donovan from Boston.

Meeting him had been a complete and utter surprise, taking me one hundred percent off guard. I met new people every single day in my line of work and none of them affected me. Wasn’t that the way of things though? You could meet a thousand people and they’d all mean nothing to you. But then you’d meet that one and they suddenly meant everything.


Order on Amazon | Barnes & Noble | iBooks | Kobo | GooglePlay

Add to your Goodreads




JULES POV


Cal glanced up at the ceiling and then back at me, his hazel eyes filled with mischief. “I want to argue, but I’m not sure I can. How the hell do you argue with Malibu?”
“You don’t. You can’t.” I grinned back at him. “What about you? Do you work for a big firm?”
“It’s not big by New York standards, but it’s not a five-person shop either. We’re considered a midsize company. But I want to make partner, so I pretty much spend all my time networking and trying to bring in new clients.”
I leaned back slightly. “Is that what you’re doing? Trying to bring me in as a client?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Give me all your money, Jules. Let me triple it for you.”
“Well, when you put it that way . . .” I reached for my purse before playfully shoving the entire thing at him. “Here. Take it.”
He laughed. “You’re smart.”
“So are you.”
“I don’t meet a lot of smart women. No offense,” he said as I pursed my lips, willing him to remove the foot he’d just placed in his beautiful mouth. “It’s just that women tend to see themselves one way, but they’re usually the opposite.”
I bristled, needing more of an explanation than that for why he was putting down my entire gender. “Explain.”
DEAR HEART, I HATE YOU - Tour Teaser 2“Okay, but don’t get pissed. Hear me out.” He put his hands up in surrender. “One of the first things women always say is how independent they are, how motivated. But in my experience, they’re usually neither of those things. They’re either searching for a rich guy to provide for them so they don’t have to work, or they’re still living on Mommy and Daddy’s money. And neither of those things are signs of an independent or motivated woman, in my opinion. Unless you count trying to land a sugar daddy motivation,” he said with a grin.
I wanted to disagree with him, but the truth was that a lot of my clients were women who didn’t work at anything except spending their husband’s money. Granted, the men in those situations also tended to want nothing more than eye candy on their arm, so it worked both ways.

Cal spoke again, interrupting my thoughts. “Most people don’t know what they want to do with their life, and they aren’t working toward a goal. I rarely meet anyone who is as together as you are. It’s a compliment, Jules. Take it.” He smiled at me, and I focused on those damn lips again as my irritation faded.






About J. Sterling

I got fired from my last job.

It's true.

I know you're sitting there thinking, "Jenn, how could anyone in their right mind fire someone like you?" And I'd love to give you a good reason, but the truth is that sometimes being all sorts of awesome isn't fun for other people. They don't always tend to like it. lol

So I picked my pride off the floor, bought a laptop and started writing my first book. And you know what I realized? Writing stories that meant something to me was a million times better than working my ass off for someone who didn't really care about anything other than the bottom line.

My soul has never felt more satisfied.

My heart has never been more full.

I've never worked so hard in my life, but I love every second of it. I truly do.

It is SO worth it.

All of it.

Every moment.

The journey it took to get to this point- I wouldn't change a thing.

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DEAR HEART, I HATE YOU - Available Now







Dear Heart I Hate You Tour Schedule
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Blog Tour: The Society by Jodie Andrefski







The Society Jodie Andrefski
Release Date: May 3rd 2016
Series: Standalone
Genre: YA, Contemporary, Romance


Welcome to Trinity Academy’s best-kept secret.

The Society.

You’ve been handpicked by the elite of the elite to become a member. But first you’ll have to prove your worth by making it through Hell Week.

Do you have what it takes?

It’s time to find out.

Samantha Evans knows she’d never get an invite to rush the Society—not after her dad went to jail for insider trading. But after years of relentless bullying at the hands of the Society’s queen bee, Jessica, she’s ready to take down Jessica and the Society one peg at a time from the inside out.

All it’ll take is a bit of computer hacking, a few fake invitations, some eager rushees…and Sam will get her revenge.

Let the games begin.



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So I’ll be completely honest when I initially read the synopsis and seen the cover I was more than confident the story was going to take a quite different turn.Truthfully I lead myself to believe the Society was going to be a Pretty Little Liars meet Person of Interest, but it was more so along the lines of Revenge. Despite my preconception I enjoyed the world Jodie created. As far as the characters ehhh, they brought emotions out of me so I guess that was a positive thing.

Samantha Evans like most young teenagers life is great and so are her friends, this girl was on a personable high. Like most highs at some point you have to come down and it almost happened overnight. She lost her best friend and her father was sent to jail with the assistance of that said friend. On top of all that her mother abandoned her and her ex best friend, Jessica started to humiliate and degrade her every moment she had.

At some point Samantha had enough and decided to seek some revenge. On paper the plan sounded fair and just. It didn’t take long for the plan to take over her life and that’s when her obsession to make horrible choices began to set in. Hooking up with a strange boy she didn’t know.I wanted to scream do you know how do you know this kid? Is he safe? Things just started to take a downward spiral. Grades started to failed. Even risked losing her only friend Jeremy. As things began to progress her attitude became more whining and she developed more excuses to justify her reason for getting other people involved with her psychological brawl with Jessica.

The Society is told solely from Samantha’s POV which is normally not my fave, but Jodie’s writing style made it all things bearable. The events take took place seem quite realistic and made me appreciate that I’m no longer in high school. The ending didn’t feel quite complete I felt like Sam and Jessica needed a face to face to resolve their issues with each other. Overall, a nice read.

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About Jodie Andrefski

Jodie Andrefski lives in a tiny town in PA that no one has ever heard of with her teenage daughter. She received her BS in Secondary English Education from Penn State, then taught a few years before changing focus and going back to school for her Master's degree in Mental Health Counseling.

Andrefski always loved both reading and writing, and wrote for several websites and magazines before deciding to write novels. She writes YA Contemporary, most of which involves at least some kissing. The Society is her second novel with Entangled Teen.



Annie Carr's How to be Cool Blog Tour







How to Be Cool by Annie Carr
Release Date: March 1st 2016
Series: None
Genre: YA Contemporary Fiction

Goodreads * Amazon * B&N

About the Book

Ethan will never be as cool as his twin brother Alex. Alex is a star football player and president of the senior class, while Ethan was born with cerebral palsy and needs crutches to walk.

Laura will never be as cool as her perfect older sister Nikki. Nikki is everything Laura isn't—confident and gorgeous… until one night when Nikki is brutally raped and hospitalized, and Laura finds comfort in her new friend Ethan.

Together, Ethan and Laura realize maybe you don't need to be cool to be happy. Or to fall in love.

And then a revelation about the attack shatters everything.




I see her out of the corner of my eye. Elsie Kahn. Elsie of Mr. Watson’s chemistry class fame, the girl who (accidentally?) set her homework on fire with the flame from her Bunsen burner. She got about as red as I’d ever seen a person get as Mr. Watson chewed her out in front of the whole class.
It seems like Elsie isn’t having a better day today. She’s running for the last of the school buses, but the driver doesn’t see her, and it’s obvious this is going to be a major fail. Her hair is whipping behind her head and her cheeks are all pink with exertion. She’s screaming, “Wait! Wait!”
It probably needs to be said about Elsie: she isn’t pretty. I’m not saying that in a mean way like my brother would, just in a factual way. She’s not. Her body is pretty nice, or at least it was the day of the chemistry fire, when she was wearing a maroon skirt that fell just above her knees and a clingy black shirt. And she’s got nice hair too—strawberry blond and silky. But it’s obvious even from where I’m standing that Elsie had been born with a cleft lip, and it didn’t get repaired right. You can see where the pieces of her upper lip don’t quite come together evenly.
So Elsie isn’t pretty. Big deal. The fact is, she’s something even better than pretty.
She’s attainable.
Owen comes out of the school at that moment, and I can see the pit stains on his shirt under his open jacket. He apparently worked up quite the sweat running to five different classrooms. But the good news is, he’s holding his Spanish book triumphantly above his head. “It was in the bathroom!” he declares.
The bathroom? Are you kidding me? And now this book is going to be in my car? Lucky for him, I’ve got other things on my mind.
Hey…” I nudge Owen. “Elsie missed her bus. Maybe we should offer her a ride home.”
Owen looks up in Elsie’s direction. He makes a face like he’s not thrilled about the idea, but then shrugs and sprints for the car. “I guess so. But she has to sit in the back.” Did I mention Owen has already claimed eternal shotgun?
I look over at Elsie, and all of a sudden, I’m really nervous. If Elsie says yes, she will be the first girl to ride in my car, with the exception of my mom. I try not to drive myself crazy with the possibilities. I run my tongue over my teeth, because I don’t want there to be any spinach stuck in them (or whatever that green stuff was at lunch). Then I tighten my grip on the handles of my forearm crutches, and start limping awkwardly in Elsie’s direction.
Elsie’s got her phone in her hand and she looks like she’s seconds away from bursting into tears. “Elsie?” I say. And of course, my voice cracks, like I’m freaking thirteen years old. I clear my throat, hoping she didn’t notice.
Elsie looks up in surprise. “Yes?”
Uh…” I can feel the heat in my face—I’m sure Elsie can see it too. I focus on getting the words out and not on how silky Elsie’s hair looks. “I’ve got a car, so, um, if you need a ride or something…”
Elsie is staring at me, which if you ask me, is kind of bad manners. First she stares at my face, but I’m okay with that. There’s nothing wrong with my face. All right, I’m not, like, Mr. Handsome or anything like my brother, but I’m not a guy who walked into a wall either.
Then her eyes drop and she’s looking down at my crutches and my legs. That part I’m not thrilled about. I’ve got braces going up to the knee on the right and up to the hip on the left. Even with the braces, my left leg always seems to rotate inward so that my left foot points about forty-five degrees toward the right one. Elsie keeps on staring for what feels like five hours, but if I’m being honest, it’s probably more like fifteen seconds. Not that it makes much difference. It’s long enough, anyway.
Elsie glances over at a group of girls standing nearby, watching us curiously. “No, thanks,” Elsie says, then she turns back to her phone.
Rejected. Ouch.
Elsie turns away from me, letting me know that there’s zero point in trying to persuade her. Yeah, as if I would. If Elsie doesn’t want to be in a car with me, then I’m not going to beg. Let her find her own goddamn ride home at this hour. Good luck with that, Elsie.
I make my way over to my car, where Owen is waiting. He’s leaning against the hood, probably making a huge dent in it. “So is she coming?”
I dig my keys out of my pocket and shrug like I couldn’t care less. “She found another ride,” I say.