A twenty-minute car ride later and I’ve got enough sweat under my armpits to fill a child’s size pool. When I pull up to the curb, I expect to be impressed by his building – but I’m more than impressed. I’m awestruck. His building is gorgeous, on a corner lot, with huge industrial sized windows overlooking Carrick Park, and black wrought iron railings leading up the concrete steps.
Cash swims into focus, walking down the front steps and onto the sidewalk. I swallow hard admiring his hard taut body in a tight pair of jeans stalking towards the passenger side door. It isn’t fair how good he looks this early in the morning or how his already dark skin appears even more sun-kissed against his white shirt.
“Good morning, Mittens.” He smiles, letting those infuriating dimples do their worst. “You know, it’s easier if you take a picture, it lasts longer.”
Returning a self-assured grin, I slide my sunglasses from my eyes to the top of my head and give him my steadiest eye contact. “Don’t flatter yourself. I wasn’t looking at you. I was admiring your building.” I jerk my gaze away from his wet lips, and he slides onto the seat, running his hand absentmindedly though his hair.
“Is that so?” he asks, his voice getting closer.
Clearing my throat I put my car in drive and pull into the oncoming traffic. I try to keep my focus on the road but my gaze wanders feeling his body permeate several more inches in my direction.
What is he doing?
“Brooks, I’m trying to drive here. Keep to you side.” I manage to choke out, feeling his hand brush a ringlet of hair over my shoulder.
“Did you miss me?” He smiles.
I roll my eyes and mumble, “You wish.”
“Wow. That is quite the skirt you’re wearing.” His gaze burns into me, and I inhale a sharp breath. His eyes are on my body. This is not good. This is really not good. “And that red blouse…Fuck, you need to put on a jacket before we get into that studio.”
I turn my attention to my body and make sure everything is intact. What is he even talking about? I look like any well-dressed young professional.
“This is how I always dress for work. Most call it business casual,” I reply.
Cash’s head lowers and his mouth is way too close to my ear. “That outfit is anything but casual.”
I glare at him, annoyed. “If you don’t like it, then don’t look.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t like it, Mittens. I love it. How the hell am I supposed to focus at the photo shoot with you in that?”
I grip the steering wheel. Does he not understand how inappropriate he is being? “Stop saying things like that to me. I’m a Bruisers’ employee, not your next fuck.”
“You’ve got to stop overthinking everything, Mittens. We’re going to happen.”
“So it’s all up to you? What about what I want?” I reply.
Cash smiles his patented sexy smirk. “And that is?”
“Get into Harvard. Find a stable career. And build a distinguished reputation as a professional.” I pause, letting out a trembling sigh. “Unlike every other girl in the state of California, I have zero interest in becoming Cash Brooks’s next conquest. I have bigger wants than banging the bad boy of the Bexley Bruisers. I’m a busy, vibrant, goal-oriented woman who would rather die than wait for a man to validate my existence.”
He throws his head back and laughs, enjoying my rejection. “Nothing like tooting your own horn.”
“I mean it,” I say, when his laughter stops and he is back to his dangerously charming grin. “I’m on to bigger and better things.”
“I can guarantee you won’t find bigger.”
Title: Perfect Sense
Author: Amanda Cowen
Genre: New Adult Contemporary Romance
And he’s every woman’s dirty fantasy in the state of California.., except one… Quinn Ashby.
Recent graduate of Penn and top of her class, Quinn is whip smart, ambitious and interning as the new marketing coordinator for the Bexley Bruisers American Hockey League team. The last thing she needs is to waste her time on guys…especially one as lethal to her focus as Cash Brooks.
But once the bad boy hockey star tempts her into his world, threatening her professional future, she’s forced to decide whether to let him into her heart…or to leave him behind forever.
Amanda Cowen can be found eating cupcakes, singing off-key, or watching a good RomCom when she isn’t trapped on her computer writing stories. She is an “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia” fanatic, a hater of roller-coasters and a country music junkie. She lives in Thunder Bay, ON where the summers are short and the winters are long.
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