Saturday, October 17, 2015
'90s Playlist ~ Romance Rewind Anthology
My Strongest Weakness by Brighton Walsh
It was supposed to be a one-time thing. No one would find out; no one would have to know. And then once turned into twice, and twice turned into several times a week, and now pierced, punk-loving, rebellious Tia Lanning is banging Mason Brooks, the big man on campus and Mr. All American. But banging him isn’t the problem. Falling for him is. Especially when he’s content to let her remain his dirty little secret.
Worthwhile by Audra North
Jill didn’t expect her semester in Leeds to start with getting dumped by her boyfriend. Especially since she only came to England to be with him. Two weeks in, all she wants to do is go home. Finding love with someone new is definitely not an option. But when she literally stumbles into grad student Stuart’s arms, her experience abroad becomes a lot more worthwhile.
Creep by Lorelie Brown
Roni lives for the raves in Oakland’s warehouse district. Dancing till dawn in white gloves under black lights breathes life into her soul. Nothing will get her kicked out of her underground world faster than turning over Skittles, her dealer. She refuses to provide info about the underage runaway to his big brother Tom. But Tom is going to find Skittles with or without Roni’s cooperation. But Tom is special. He’s rich, handsome and bold. Roni wishes she was special. And like the rave scene she loves, nothing lasts forever.
Smells Like Teen Spirit by Rebecca Grace Allen
Rory Stone’s days of grunge and poetry are behind her, her reality now in bags of Arabian brew, and counting the change in the tip jar. Can indie singer James Griffith rock her muse back into the present?
The Belle vs. the BDOC by Amy Jo Cousins
Shelby Summerfield is a gold star lesbian, even if she doesn’t look like one. Florence Truong is the only other dyke at Carlisle College in 1993 not wearing plaid flannel, and Shelby sets her sights on seduction. But instead of a delightful tumble in the sheets, Florence calls her out for being a straight girl. With seduction off the table, Shelby settles for revenge for her humiliation. But if all she wants is to show up her campus rival, how come Shelby can’t stop herself from saving Florence instead of annihilating her?
Little Red Thong by Jennifer Blackwood
Emily Jones is ready to embark on the most epic spring break trip of her college career with her bestie, twin brother, and her brother’s best friend, Chase. Chase has been in love with Emily since the eighth grade when she kicked his ass in laser tag. He’s not going to piss away his last chance to tell her how he feels. When the group decides to play a game of Spring Break BINGO that involves body shots, a red thong, and secret hookups, this is the perfect catalyst to get him out of the friend zone. But as things get heated, they have to decide if twenty years of friendship is worth putting in jeopardy because of a game, and what will happen when they hit dry land.
“Lame, ladies.” Chase fisted his shirt and pulled it over his head in one fluid motion, putting his muscled chest on full display.
Sweet mother of pearl.
I clapped my hand over my mouth to hide a very audible gasp. I coughed and tried to play it off like I had something in my throat, because nothing could be more awkward than Chase knowing that I was gawking at his ripped muscles. That thought didn’t even feel right, because when did the words Chase and muscles go together? He’d been cute in a gawky, lanky way, which tended to happen when a gamer’s main form of a workout was making Mario run through the Mushroom Kingdom. And that bulk could not be achieved through the use of a controller.
Melissa tapped me on the shoulder, her brows furrowed, and I realized I was still coughing and sputtering. “You okay? Need water?”
I nodded and Melissa pulled a bottle of water out of her bag and handed it to me.
I twisted off the lid and took a few sips, trying to look anywhere but at Chase. But as a certain law of the universe goes, the more you tell yourself not to do something, the more you want to do it. I shifted my gaze to him as he stepped into the pool, the water slowly moving its way up his legs, flowing over the print of his shorts, teasing at the waistband that gave way to abs.
Holy crap. There was a six-pack…attached to Chase. And were those biceps or dinner rolls? Shit, when did he get so ripped? I rubbed my lips together and reached into the pocket of my cover-up for my Chapstick, to alleviate my suddenly parched lips.
Drew hopped up from his chair and sprinted toward the pool closest to us, executing a perfect cannonball. Chase swam after him, the muscles in his back and his calves flexing with each movement and I shook my head, trying to force myself to look away.
I hadn’t really looked closely at him until now, because Chase was always…well, he was Chase. My next door neighbor since I was born, my brother’s best friend. He was just always there, kind of like an art piece that hung above the top of our family’s mantel—something you know is there but you stop noticing after a while.
Well, I was noticing now.
Now he was…hot. Like Freddie Prinze, Jr. hot.
Whoa. Those thoughts needed to sink back down to the depths from which they’d sprouted. This was Chase we were talking about. The same guy who used to flick spit wads into my hair on the bus in middle school and gave me noogies up until senior year of high school.
After the guys swam farther away, Melissa laid her Cosmo over her stomach and turned to me. “You
never told me about your brother’s hot friend.”
“Um. Yeah. Recent change.” As in, last time I saw him was junior year Christmas, during winter break, he definitely wasn’t sporting a football player physique. He’d transformed from Screech to Slater status in less time than it took the earth to orbit the sun.
She pulled her neon green sunglasses down her nose and raised a brow suggestively. “You gonna hit that?”
“Seriously, M, who talks that way?”
“Me and Coolio? Maybe Dre?”
I shook my head and giggled. “Good to know you’re getting down with your rapper roots. Should I call you DJ Gold?” On a scale of gangster cred, Melissa Gold ranked somewhere along the same line as Weird Al Yankovic. I mean, the girl once put gum wrappers over her teeth to pretend she had a platinum grill, but that was about as hood as it was going to get.
She threw out a fake gang sign. “Fo-shizzle.”
I playfully pushed at her hands. “Put those away before you hurt yourself.”
“It’s hard spending my life in a gangster’s paradise.”
“Go back to your Cosmo before you get us shot.”
She turned back to me, more serious this time. “For real, though, are you calling dibs on that Chase dude?”
He was the pain in the ass next door. So why would it be a big deal if Melissa went for him?
But somehow that rational thought process didn’t help the unease that had settled in the pit of my stomach. Really, I had zero say over who he hooked up with—not that I cared. But a twinge of possessiveness zinged up my spine, nonetheless. Chase was a nice guy, not someone who should be used as a consolation prize for a twisted game of spring break bingo. “I thought you were into Drew.”
“Yeah.” She turned to me, her lips curving into a mischievous smile. “You think they’d be into the three-way kiss?”
I snorted. “Um. No.”
“Damn. Oh well, I’m sure there’s someone willing to do that on this boat.”
She opened her Cosmo back up and pointed out something in an article, but I zoned out as Chase commandeered a pool noodle and laid out in the water, everything but his chest and tops of his legs submerged. The sun glinted off each droplet on his chest, and Chase’s swimsuit had molded against his, ahem, package, and it was definitely hard not to stare. He laughed at something my brother said and two dimples appeared on either side of his face.
I shifted restlessly in the chair, crossing and uncrossing my legs, focusing back on Melissa, who was reading out loud from the Most Embarrassing Moments column. Something about a bikini falling off and a big wave. But I couldn’t concentrate on the story. All I could focus on was Chase’s abs and bulge. Jesus, it’d been a while since my last boyfriend, but I’d never felt this type of need before, one that pulled low in my belly. Obviously this was the aftermath from notgettinganyitus. Maybe it should come with a warning label with a list of side-effects, like the ones for prescription medication on television.
Warning: prolonged abstinence may be associated with sudden onset of lusty feelings for your brother’s best friend.
I swallowed hard and licked my parched lips. This was going to be a very long four days.