All First Chapter Samples

Will trade clean toilets for dirty books.

Well, as far as want ad titles went it was iffy, but I’d thought it’d gotten my point across pretty well when I’d been knee-deep in midnight margaritas. But sober me was starting to question that as I sorted through the responses I’d gotten to the possibly confusing ad.

At least everyone understood I was trading books and not sex.

“I don’t give a fuck what they told you. I’m not driving down that goddamned mountain in this weather! This is my time and you know it.” His eyes flashed with dark emotions as he stalked toward the porch.

If I thought he was sexy when he was angry, I was smart enough not to show it.

My standing stupidly in the doorway didn’t seem to help his emotional instability. But in my defense, I had no idea what he was talking about and it was incredible to see little Joe all grown up. I shouldn’t have found him hot considering I’d known him since he was five.

But the man standing in front of me only vaguely resembled the little boy he’d once been.

Especially the anger part.

Little Joe had been sweet and almost painfully shy. I could still picture him peeking around the wall by the staircase whenever I would visit his parents’ house. Even as he’d gotten older, he would smile hesitantly before quietly escaping any dinner party his family dragged him to.

“I—”

I didn’t get much out before he cut me off, but it seemed to only make his anger worse. “I’m a part-fucking-owner and this is my week. The goddamned lawyers I had to hire to make sure I got use it cost me a fucking fortune! The rest of the assholes that raised me might have money lying around like toilet paper, but some of us have to work for a goddamned living.”

“That’s what a Team Binkie member is?”

Really?

Pausing the voice that came from the small reading machine, I set it down on the log that I used as my main seating area and rose to move away. Having space from the device seemed imperative even if it was not logical, but I had come to accept many of my actions were not logical.

And when I was alone, I let myself experience them without worry.

“I was nearly named Jean-Luc, so if you think a Number One joke is going to embarrass me, you’re sadly mistaken.” Some people needed better pickup lines.

Besides, it was spelled differently too.

My father had tried to save me; it just hadn’t worked.

I’d have been nicer if I hadn’t seen the dickhead brush off anyone who wasn’t up to his standard. The asshole who thought a clever put-down was a good pickup line rolled his eyes and walked away mumbling about how some people couldn’t take a joke.

“That’s so cool.” The quiet voice next to me was filled with alcohol-induced awe, and I had to fight the urge to smile as I turned on the stool.

“His pickup line, my put-down, or my name?”

„Der Typ hat mir seine Bierdose so weit in den Arsch geschoben, dass ich Sterne gesehen habe. Es war unglaublich.“

Obwohl die Worte nur wenig Sinn ergaben, schoss mir bei der krassen Beschreibung eine verlegene Hitze in die Wangen.

Warum, um Himmels willen, sollte er sich eine Bierdose in den Hintern schieben lassen?

Der halb betrunkene Kerl, der auf der Couch im Gemeinschaftsraum rumlümmelte, beantwortete meine ungefragte Frage. „Versteh mich nicht falsch, es war toll. Es ist nur, dass sein Ding so dick war, dass ich seit Tagen breitbeinig durch die Gegend laufe. In Zukunft verzichte ich auf Tops mit Monsterschwänzen. Ich bleibe lieber bei denen, die einen schönen dünnen Langen haben.“

Ohhh.

„Du bist so eine Schlampe.“ Wenn ich den Tonfall der männlichen Person richtig deutete, die auf dem Boden vor der Couch sitzen musste, schien sie die Bemerkung überhaupt nicht verstörend, sondern witzig zu finden. Aber vielleicht irrte ich mich.

Ich war kein Idiot, aber manchmal verwirrten mich die Reaktionen der Leute. Vor allem, wenn es um sexuelle Dinge ging.

When are you going to tell your Daddy you want to move in together?” Some days, getting Ryland going was entirely too easy.

“What?” He popped up in his bed, wide-eyed and mouth hanging open.

Sharing a room had worked out better than I’d expected, but that might have had something to do with the fact that Ryland just about lived at Holden’s place. Before we ever got frustrated with each other, he would be gone for a day or even the whole weekend. It was perfect.

I’d be sad when he actually moved out for good to go live with Holden, but they’d been perfect together from the start, so I knew it would happen sooner or later.

“Don’t give me that look. We both know it’s what you want.” He was shaking his head, but it was more like denial was his pre-programmed response rather than what he actually wanted.

“But…he…” Ryland blinked and reached over to tap his phone, looking at the time. “Um…I have class soon.”

Trying to use that as a good excuse to get out of the conversation was cute. Of course, getting him functioning had been the only reason I’d brought it up originally, but I wasn’t planning on admitting that.