The Hot Shot by Kristen Callihan - online free at Epub The Hot Shot by Kristen Callihan - online free at Epub

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Whatever you want to call this disaster. Yet not entirely out of left field. It was like a hot finger stroking down my spine.

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And it causes a stir. I grit my teeth. One stupid word from this guy and I feel the pain all over again, damn it.

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And somehow I walked right into his trap. My mind screamed, Do something, you idiot! His response sends a tingle through me. His name is a ripple through the room.

The Hook Up

And though it sounds like an awesome thing, it gets tiring. Breathless, my head ringing, I could only gape. One day, love will creep up and smack you upside the head.

But Bruce jenner dating man ride a scooter. His nostrils flare on an indrawn breath, and his gaze goes liquid hot.

Believe me, I was referring to the best of places.

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More like shot down. No anger there or even triumph, he simply waits for the next volley, enjoying it. Stranger still, it feels as if I know him, have known him for years. Disappointment is swift and sharp. And nearly run into a solid wall of muscled chest instead.

It did, however, slap me upside my head. Her dark green eyes had flashed in outrage. As soon as class ends, I attempt to flee.

Though it veers a bit too much toward sarcasm for my taste. God help me if she noticed that twitch. While she tried to ignore me. I think my knees go weak.

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The next day, a box of Red Hots sits on my desk. A pretty face is one thing. With a helping of right-the-fuck-now on the side. Still looking at me, he suddenly speaks. And then she let me have it.

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Because the object of my affection hates me. And then it all fell to shit. Easier said than done.

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To be brutally honest, my life has been fairly insulated. Only I ruin this later, when, in the privacy of my room, I open the box of Red Hots that I bought and pop a handful into my mouth.

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Cut off at the knees. This one far too pleased. I remember too, Anna Jones. I almost smile, start to rethink my earlier stance of avoidance.

The Hook Up (Game On #1) by Kristen Callihan

She glared at me. Because at that moment, I became a bonehead. He wears it cut short, and thick clusters of it spike along the top and front. Heat rises to my cheeks as I stand there, staring back at him. It sets a bad precedent. The warm cadence of his voice rolls over me before the words actually make sense.

And the bees kept to the flowers.

The Hot Shot by Kristen Callihan

Love, when it came for me, did not creep. I gape up at him, too shocked to even form a proper glare. I watched Anna Jones like a condemned man getting his last view of the setting sun. But I doubt that was the case, because he smells fantastic—like warm pears and crisp air.

A quick mind is nearly irresistible to me. Instead, I just sit next to her during every class, silently pining. I still cringe at the memory of when I first laid eyes on her at the beginning of the semester.

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I was that cool. But no, I just stood there and forced a grin as heat flooded my face and a sweat broke out on my back. Keeping my head down, I pull out my notepad and try to look organized and ready for the lecture. Then he opens his mouth and ruins everything. Even so, I hate being late.

Annoyed, I straighten my shoulders and force myself to look aloof. Having been chubby for most of my adolescence has left me sensitive. People snap out of their morning fog, turn, stare, and start whispering among themselves.

Oddly, the guy gapes back at me, as if he too feels the strange kick. Needless to say, I hobbled away from that encounter and remain among the walking wounded.

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Life, she insisted, is how you live it and who you live it with, not what you do to make a living. I fight to maintain my bland look as I respond. Stranger still, I enjoy it. The second class ended I shot up, and so did she.