 by Jennifer Sucevic.jpg)
Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 90257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
I’ve known Ryder McAdams my entire life. We’re neighbors and our families are besties. He’s also friends and teammates with my younger brother, Maverick.
But Ryder and me?
We’ve never been close. In fact, I’ve always gotten the distinct impression he doesn’t like me very much. He goes out of his way to ignore me.
Know what makes it worse?
The electricity that hums in the air every time our gazes collide. It sizzles through my body until I feel it in the tips of my fingers and toes. Whoever said that you can’t control who you’re attracted to was, unfortunately, right.
I’ve done my best to stomp it out.
We’ve been at Western for three years and only come in contact when forced to interact. He’s busy partying it up and getting it on with his fangirl club. I’ve spent most of my college experience studying at the library so I can apply to the med school of my choice.
One drunken night changes everything when Ryder takes me home and finds the bucket list I wrote before freshman year.
Know how many things I’ve ticked off since then?
Zero. Zilch. Nada.
For some strange reason, Ryder decides he’ll be the one to help tackle each item before graduation.
That would be all fine and good, except there’s some pretty schmexy stuff on there…
Like the big O.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
CHAPTER 1
JULIETTE
“I had a really good time tonight,” Aaron says, gaze pinned to mine with an intensity that has me wanting to take a quick step in retreat.
Instead, I force a smile. “Yeah. Me, too.”
It’s not a total lie. I did have a good time. But that’s all it was—good. Kind of like when we study together at the library or grab coffee at the Roasted Bean before class.
He glances away and shoves both hands into the pockets of his perfectly pressed khakis. “I hope we can do this again.” There's a pause before he tacks on, “Soon.”
I’m treated to a long, soulful stare that leaves me feeling borderline uncomfortable.
Yeah…I’m pretty sure that’s not in the cards for us.
Aaron is nice.
Really nice.
Super-duper nice.
There’s just no spark between us.
I’m searching for that elusive little tingle you get at the bottom of your tummy whenever you're near that person or even catch a glimpse of them from across a crowded room. It’s the kind of irrepressible energy that sizzles in the air, charging it until drawing a full breath into your lungs feels impossible.
No matter how much I might wish otherwise, Aaron and I just don’t generate that kind of chemistry.
There's only one person—
No.
I take a deep breath, slamming the door closed on those thoughts.
What I feel for that guy isn’t attraction.
It's irritation.
Annoyance.
Aggravation.
Trust me, if you gave me enough time, I could come up with a laundry list of descriptive words that start with a vowel.
I blink back to awareness, only to realize that Aaron is patiently awaiting a response.
Oh, right. He wants to do this again.
As I open my mouth to let him down gently, the words stick in my throat. The last thing I want to do is lead him on, but at the same time, I don't want to hurt him either. What I need to do is strike the perfect balance. We have several pre-med classes together this semester. If I’m sick and can’t attend class, Aaron is the one who catches me up to speed and makes sure I have all the notes.
They’re usually color coded and placed in order of importance.
If there’s been one lesson learned this evening, it’s that I should avoid dating guys I see on a daily basis.
As Carina, my roommate, would say—don’t shit where you eat.
She’s right about that.
He inches closer. “If you’re in agreement, I’d like to move this relationship forward. I like you, Juliette.” He glances away briefly before his muddy-colored eyes refocus on me with a mixture of heat and intensity. “I’m probably getting a little ahead of myself here, but I think we could be a real power couple. We share similar aspirations—both of us have set our sights on furthering our studies in medicine and becoming physicians. I've never found someone who fits so perfectly into my five- and ten-year plan. It’s almost like we were made for one another."
My eyes widen as a garbled sound escapes from me.
A little ahead of himself?
Five- and ten-year plan?
We’ve been out precisely three times, and the chances of there being a fourth have dwindled to the single digits.
I need to tell him that this—whatever he thinks this is—isn't going to happen. “Aaron...”
He perks up and sways closer. “Yeah?”
There’s so much hope and expectation packed into that one word.
Argh.
Why does this have to be so difficult?
The problem is that he really is a nice guy. And what he said is absolutely true, we do have a lot in common. It’s the reason I talked myself into giving him another chance.
And then a third.
There are a lot of douchey guys at this school who are only interested in sleeping with a chick before moving onto the next warm body. Sometimes within the span of the same evening. They don't have five- or ten-year plans that involve one specific girl. They don't even have twenty-four-hour plans that involve the same female.
So, when you happen to find a guy who has the opposite mindset, you need to take the time to delve deep and really get to know him before tossing him back into the wild for someone else to snap up.
“I had a nice time, too,” I say carefully.
“Good.” The tension filling his narrow shoulders drains as he beams in relief.
Aaron has a wiry build. His limbs are long and lean, much like a runner. Unlike some of the football or hockey players that strut around campus with their muscles on display as if they’re god’s gift to the female species.
Ugh. They seem to be everywhere.
As I stare into his earnest eyes, I make a last ditch effort to convince myself that he’s exactly the type of guy I’m attracted to.
Deep down, in a place I’m loath to acknowledge, I know it’s a lie.
Carina, damn her, would also tell me that the worst lies are the ones we tell ourselves.