Something my mother would be proud of? Hell no!
Watching my best friend and my old friend-with-benefits blissfully walk down the aisle has just reiterated the fact that I’m thirty and perpetually single.
I thought I’d found the woman I wanted to spend my life with, you have to open your eyes to realize that it’s never gonna happen.
Funny how meeting the right person can finally make you see sense.
My name is Noah Taylor: kickass trauma surgeon, closet idealist, wishful thinker, and all round cocky asshole, and this is the year my life will change for the better.
*Disclaimer: This book features hot sex, filthy language, misuse of on-call rooms and the overdue redemption of the fake orgasm*
not someone you can go ‘wham, bam, thank you ma’am’ with. That’s not my style
and if that’s what you’re looking for, then I’m not who you want.
I’m a relationship girl, Noah. Always have been and always will be.” I
square my shoulders, not daring to look away from him. It’s as if we’re kids
having a staring contest, except we’re not kids, and the stakes are far higher
than trying to win the last cookie left in the jar. No, the stakes are much, much higher and we both know it.He looks away first, staring out the window behind me as he bites the side of
his lip, mulling over something. “You don’t know me.”
I don’t, Noah. I know of you… but
then there’s the fact we shared the best kiss of my entire life together.”
An uneasy silence stretches between us. His eyes meet mine again and I’m struck
with just how much depth there is there. This is a side of Noah that very few
I wish I remembered that kiss,” he murmurs, his voice desperate, longing
as he drops his eyes to the floor.
wish you did, too.” My voice is laced with regret. After what feels like
forever he snaps his head up, seemingly reaching a decision. Pinning me with an
intense stare, he starts moving forward.“I just need a chance. Let me get to know you. Let me show you the real
“Friends, Noah. That’s all I can do right now.” A slow, almost
knowing smile ghosts across his lips.
“Friends,” he says, as if he’s testing the word. “I can do that …
to start with anyway.” He steps closer until our bodies are almost
touching and it’s impossible to ignore the heat now radiating between us.
“I’m going to show you the real me. I’m not just a cocky asshole with a
black book the size of Chicago.”
chest tightens at the thought that a) he would know that many people and b)
have slept with that many women. If I was in that black book I’d wanna dip
myself in bleach before taking a cocktail of every antibiotic available.
want you to like what you see . . .”“I—” My protest is stopped by his index finger pressing against my
lips. It takes everything in me not to just reach out my tongue to taste it.
know me. But I need you to know . . .” His warm breath caresses my skin as
he leans his face closer to mine. My breathing is so erratic it’s a wonder I
haven’t passed out, something I almost do when his lips gently suck on the skin
beneath my ear before he whispers so softly, I almost think I’m hearing things.
But as his deliciously potent words sink in, I realize there is no way I’ve
“I’m going to make you fall in love with me. And I’m not gonna stop until
An avid music fan, you will always find her with headphones on while writing, and the speakers blaring the rest of the time. She’s a wife, a mom to two beautiful girls, and when she’s not writing – she’s reading.
BJ resides with her family in what she considers the best country in the world—New Zealand. She describes her writing as a little swoon, a lot of heat, a bit of drama and a whole lot of love.