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294 pages, Paperback
First published December 30, 2012
It had all started on the first day of high school. I’d been fourteen—you know, the age when our bodies are a flux of surging hormones. The instant I laid eyes on him, I felt a physical attraction so powerful I swear it left me dazed. I think my heart had been in the smile I sent him, to which he’d responded by giving me the colder-than-arctic shoulder.
Beyond crushed is the only way to explain how I felt when he’d completely ignored me. At that point, disliking him had been a simple matter of self-preservation. Of course that’s not how I looked at it back then. No, back then I was just plain hurt, not to mention nursing a bruised pride. You see, by then I’d become accustomed not only to male attention, but their admiration. It hadn’t been anything I’d actively sought or was particularly proud of, it just was.
In high school, he’d been considered the ultimate catch with girls falling for and after him like a line of dominoes. And I swear from the way the eyes of every girl in class are currently fixed on him, he’s all set to retain that status.
At six-two, Zach’s the quintessential quarterback—all broad shoulders, narrow hips and lean, well-defined muscles. His hair is the closest shade to black without actually being black, close-cropped at the sides and back, and long enough on the top to give a hint of natural wave. He has a habit of running his hand through it and considering its slightly mussed appearance, he’d been recently doing just that.
I don’t know Olivia that well and she may be hot as all hell, but she’s always come across as pretty reserved. Some of the kids at school accused her of being stuck up; the girls for obvious reasons—jealousy—and the guys’ probably bad-mouthed her because she shot them down.
In our junior year, things got worse when Olivia returned from summer break looking noticeably bigger. Rumor had it she’d gotten implants, so she’d been stuck-up and fake and shallow.
Publically, I chose to reserve judgment, but inside I’d latched on to the idea like a burr on a horse’s tail. Just as I’d thought, the apple really didn’t fall far from the tree. I decided she must be just like her mother, which supported the reasons I didn’t like her—couldn’t like her. There’d just been one problem, not only was she gorgeous but, real or bought and paid for, she’d had a first-class rack to boot. Truly a winning combination.
But now that we’re talking, I can’t help thinking more and more that we can do something more like a friends-with-benefits thing. I mean, I can’t see her as a one-night-stand. I like her. I can talk to her and she wants to learn more about my two favorite sports. But I’m not looking to get serious with anyone. Not now. Not so soon after Ashley.
“No problem,” I assure her. “I’ll teach you everything you need to know in Paris.”
Her eyes flit to mine and then she glances away. Only when a blush washes over her face do I realize what I just said and how it could be taken. But she’s right, I won’t mind teaching her a thing or two about that too.
The End