Music was was part of my
DNA, pumping hard through my veins, resonating deep within my bones. Not
surprising, considering my dad was a global rock star and my mom had the voice
of a fallen angel.
With my twin sister by my
side in our indie-rock duo, Singed Wings, we were ready to finally see our name
in lights when we opened for the hottest act to sell out stadiums – Jobu’s Rum
Summer Reunion Tour.
The life I’d always wanted
was finally within my reach. All I had left to do was finish out my last semester
of high school.
But there was one problem:
Ms. Sloan, the new art history teacher.
The same Ms. Sloan I’d met
as Belle, the sexy little pixie who’d captivated me at a New Year’s Eve concert
last year.
The same Ms. Sloan who’d
owned nearly every one of my thoughts since that night.
The same Ms. Sloan whose
class I was in danger of failing.
With my dream gig dangling
just on the other side of that cap and gown, all of my focus should’ve been on
my school work and improving my music as I prepared for my big shot to rock the
world…
But I never expected her to
rock mine first… and to change everything.
*** Everything is a standalone
novel. It is a spin-off from the Book Boyfriend Series.
Erin Noelle is a Texas native, where
she lives with her husband, two daughters, and three fur babies. When she’s not
reading or writing romance novels, she enjoys winning at cards and board games,
awkward people-watching in public places, and doing cartwheels at the most
random times. She’s usually barefoot, is never without a song in her head, and
currently holds the title of World’s Best Procrastinator.
Her titles published include the
Book Boyfriend Series, Dusk ‘Til Dawn Series, Luminous Duet, Fire on the
Mountain series, and numerous standalone books that range from New Adult to
Contemporary romance. Her books have
been a part of the USA Today
Bestselling list as well as the Amazon and Barnes & Noble overall Top 100.
You can follow her on Facebook @ www.facebook.com/erin.noelle.98, her blog @
www.erinnoelleauthor.com, on Twitter @authorenoelle, and on Instagram
@erinnoelleauthor.
The perfect husband. Colin Cassidy—the incredibly talented,
extremely gorgeous, and unbelievably humble star NFL quarterback.
The perfect marriage. Our bond was unbreakable. His support
unwavering.
The perfect career. As the recently-appointed executive
director for the Boston chapter of Mending Hearts, a child abuse prevention and
treatment program, my daily reward was helping to keep vulnerable, innocent
children from being preyed upon and destroyed. It’s all I’d wanted to do since
I was a teenager.
Perfect city. Perfect car. Perfect house with the perfect
view.
From the outside looking in, it was impossible to find a
single flaw in my life. I had it all. Everything I’d ever wanted.
But that kind of perfection came at a price. Demanded the
ultimate sacrifice.
What happened when I discovered what I’d been missing all
along? When I began to question if the lies were worth protecting?
What if suddenly the last thing I wanted was to be perfect?
I SMELLED HER before I saw her. I know . . . fucking weird.
But as soon as she stepped into the foyer of the restaurant, where Allison and
I were waiting for our table, I was aware of her presence, even though I
couldn’t see her. She had on the same perfume she’d worn the night before at
the gala. Orange blossom with a hint of vanilla. A scent that reminded me of
the orange cream sodas my three sisters and I used to get when we were kids at
Casey’s General Store, the place our parents would pick up pizza everyFridaynight.
As I got older and started partying in high school, my friends and I learned
those same drinks were the perfect mixers for cheap vodka, and many of our
weekend nights were spent sitting around a campfire on someone’s land, sipping
on that sweet, fruity concoction that somehow never caused a hangover. Back
when life seemed easy and all I was interested in was having a little innocent
fun. Back before everything changed.
“Monroe!” Allison’s face
lit up next to me when she spotted her friend, our colleague, welcoming her
with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “I’m so glad you could make it. Oliver and
I just got here.”
Still reeling from the
primal reaction that Monroe’s scent alone had on me, I was thankful the two
women acted like they hadn’t just seen each other the previous evening, fawning
over each other’s hairstyles and outfits for several moments. It gave me a few
extra seconds to get my shit together and process the fact Monroe was
apparently joining us for lunch, a detail I was sure Allison had
not-so-accidentally failed to mention. The foyer of the restaurant suddenly
heated up, rising to temperatures that rivaled the fiery pits of Hell. The
sinfully sensual fantasies I’d had about the married woman standing only a few
feet away from me while I’d jacked off in the shower that morning flooded
through my mind once again. Had I known I’d be sharing a meal with her mere
hours later, forced to hold a conversation and not think about how I’d
envisioned her naked body looking and feeling underneath mine, I’d have
definitely held out until I was safely back home in Chicago the next day,
nearly a thousand miles away and with no chance of a humiliating run-in.
“Hey, Oliver. It’s a
pleasant surprise to see you again,” she greeted me cheerfully, though it was
apparent that Allison had also neglected to inform her that our lunch would be
a party of three. “And thank you again for coming last night. Having you, Jeff,
and Tracie there for support meant so much to me.”
The same lyrical voice I’d
pretended was moaning my name in sweet release prompted my pulse to spike along
with my internal thermostat. As I pivoted around to offer a polite smile and
handshake, I inconspicuously tried to rub my sweaty palms on the dark denim of
my jeans while also ensuring the growing bulge in my pants was hidden behind my
fly. Thank God, it was. Lifting my gaze to meet hers, the instant our eyes
locked, I sucked in a deep breath and completely lost my train of thought. I
froze mid-movement, my arm embarrassingly stuck reaching out between the two of
us in no man’s land. Every drop of moisture that was in my mouth evaporated,
and then somehow multiplied exponentially and reappeared seconds later in my
armpits. Much like it had done the first time I met her.
Never in my life had a woman ever had that kind of effect on me,
and after I’d shamefully indulged myself in the shower, leaving me feeling
dirtier than it did clean, I’d spent several minutes staring in the mirror,
berating my reflection for my inexcusable actions before convincing myself that
I’d imagined Monroe to be more beautiful than she really was. I blamed the soft
lighting of the ballroom, along with the classical music and bold city skyline
for creating an atmosphere straight from the final scene of a romantic comedy.
Her tight, low cut, sparkly blue dress was like a beacon in a sea of standard
black, and with her smoky eyes and the way her hair was up, revealing that
long, creamy neck, I didn’t have a chance. I mean, even I had looked pretty debonair
in my designer tux with my long hair tamed into a low knot and my facial hair
neatly-trimmed, and I was often mistaken for being homeless in Chicago.Okay, maybe it wasn’t that bad.
I came up with all kinds of excuses for why she’d affected me
the way she did, and had I not seen her again afterward, I might’ve gone on
believing she wasn’t nearly as impressive as I’d first made her out to be in my
mind. But as I stood there in front of her, for the second time in as many
days, in my slack-jawed, semi-aroused motionless state, I knew I’d been wrong.
In her modest turquoise blouse, linen capris, and tan wedges, Monroe had left
her hair down, allowing the wavy, golden locks to cascade around her shoulders and
frame her fresh, youthful face, somehow appearing even more beautiful than I
remembered. How that was possible, I hadn’t a clue, but there she was. The most
exquisite sight I’d ever seen.
Erin Noelle is a Texas native, where
she lives with her husband and two young daughters. While earning her degree in
History at the University of Houston, she rediscovered her love for reading
that was first instilled by her grandmother when she was a young child. A lover
of happily-ever-afters, both historical and current, Erin is an avid reader of
all romance novels. In 2013, she published the Book Boyfriend Series, which
includedbooks Metamorphosis, Ambrosia,
Euphoria, and Timeless, and recently published When the Sun Goes
Down, a contemporary romance novel. Her books have
been a part of the USA Today Bestselling list and the Amazon
and Barnes & Noble overall Top 100.
The perfect husband. Colin Cassidy—the incredibly talented,
extremely gorgeous, and unbelievably humble star NFL quarterback.
The perfect marriage. Our bond was unbreakable. His support
unwavering.
The perfect career. As the recently-appointed executive
director for the Boston chapter of Mending Hearts, a child abuse prevention and
treatment program, my daily reward was helping to keep vulnerable, innocent
children from being preyed upon and destroyed. It’s all I’d wanted to do since
I was a teenager.
Perfect city. Perfect car. Perfect house with the perfect
view.
From the outside looking in, it was impossible to find a
single flaw in my life. I had it all. Everything I’d ever wanted.
But that kind of perfection came at a price. Demanded the
ultimate sacrifice.
What happened when I discovered what I’d been missing all
along? When I began to question if the lies were worth protecting?
What if suddenly the last thing I wanted was to be perfect?
I SMELLED HER before I saw her. I know . . . fucking weird.
But as soon as she stepped into the foyer of the restaurant, where Allison and
I were waiting for our table, I was aware of her presence, even though I
couldn’t see her. She had on the same perfume she’d worn the night before at
the gala. Orange blossom with a hint of vanilla. A scent that reminded me of
the orange cream sodas my three sisters and I used to get when we were kids at
Casey’s General Store, the place our parents would pick up pizza everyFridaynight.
As I got older and started partying in high school, my friends and I learned
those same drinks were the perfect mixers for cheap vodka, and many of our
weekend nights were spent sitting around a campfire on someone’s land, sipping
on that sweet, fruity concoction that somehow never caused a hangover. Back
when life seemed easy and all I was interested in was having a little innocent
fun. Back before everything changed.
“Monroe!” Allison’s face
lit up next to me when she spotted her friend, our colleague, welcoming her
with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “I’m so glad you could make it. Oliver and
I just got here.”
Still reeling from the
primal reaction that Monroe’s scent alone had on me, I was thankful the two
women acted like they hadn’t just seen each other the previous evening, fawning
over each other’s hairstyles and outfits for several moments. It gave me a few
extra seconds to get my shit together and process the fact Monroe was
apparently joining us for lunch, a detail I was sure Allison had
not-so-accidentally failed to mention. The foyer of the restaurant suddenly
heated up, rising to temperatures that rivaled the fiery pits of Hell. The
sinfully sensual fantasies I’d had about the married woman standing only a few
feet away from me while I’d jacked off in the shower that morning flooded
through my mind once again. Had I known I’d be sharing a meal with her mere
hours later, forced to hold a conversation and not think about how I’d
envisioned her naked body looking and feeling underneath mine, I’d have
definitely held out until I was safely back home in Chicago the next day,
nearly a thousand miles away and with no chance of a humiliating run-in.
“Hey, Oliver. It’s a
pleasant surprise to see you again,” she greeted me cheerfully, though it was
apparent that Allison had also neglected to inform her that our lunch would be
a party of three. “And thank you again for coming last night. Having you, Jeff,
and Tracie there for support meant so much to me.”
The same lyrical voice I’d
pretended was moaning my name in sweet release prompted my pulse to spike along
with my internal thermostat. As I pivoted around to offer a polite smile and
handshake, I inconspicuously tried to rub my sweaty palms on the dark denim of
my jeans while also ensuring the growing bulge in my pants was hidden behind my
fly. Thank God, it was. Lifting my gaze to meet hers, the instant our eyes
locked, I sucked in a deep breath and completely lost my train of thought. I
froze mid-movement, my arm embarrassingly stuck reaching out between the two of
us in no man’s land. Every drop of moisture that was in my mouth evaporated,
and then somehow multiplied exponentially and reappeared seconds later in my
armpits. Much like it had done the first time I met her.
Never in my life had a woman ever had that kind of effect on me,
and after I’d shamefully indulged myself in the shower, leaving me feeling
dirtier than it did clean, I’d spent several minutes staring in the mirror,
berating my reflection for my inexcusable actions before convincing myself that
I’d imagined Monroe to be more beautiful than she really was. I blamed the soft
lighting of the ballroom, along with the classical music and bold city skyline
for creating an atmosphere straight from the final scene of a romantic comedy.
Her tight, low cut, sparkly blue dress was like a beacon in a sea of standard
black, and with her smoky eyes and the way her hair was up, revealing that
long, creamy neck, I didn’t have a chance. I mean, even I had looked pretty debonair
in my designer tux with my long hair tamed into a low knot and my facial hair
neatly-trimmed, and I was often mistaken for being homeless in Chicago.Okay, maybe it wasn’t that bad.
I came up with all kinds of excuses for why she’d affected me
the way she did, and had I not seen her again afterward, I might’ve gone on
believing she wasn’t nearly as impressive as I’d first made her out to be in my
mind. But as I stood there in front of her, for the second time in as many
days, in my slack-jawed, semi-aroused motionless state, I knew I’d been wrong.
In her modest turquoise blouse, linen capris, and tan wedges, Monroe had left
her hair down, allowing the wavy, golden locks to cascade around her shoulders and
frame her fresh, youthful face, somehow appearing even more beautiful than I
remembered. How that was possible, I hadn’t a clue, but there she was. The most
exquisite sight I’d ever seen.
Erin Noelle is a Texas native, where
she lives with her husband and two young daughters. While earning her degree in
History at the University of Houston, she rediscovered her love for reading
that was first instilled by her grandmother when she was a young child. A lover
of happily-ever-afters, both historical and current, Erin is an avid reader of
all romance novels. In 2013, she published the Book Boyfriend Series, which
includedbooks Metamorphosis, Ambrosia,
Euphoria, and Timeless, and recently published When the Sun Goes
Down, a contemporary romance novel. Her books have
been a part of the USA Today Bestselling list and the Amazon
and Barnes & Noble overall Top 100.
The perfect husband. Colin Cassidy—the incredibly talented,
extremely gorgeous, and unbelievably humble star NFL quarterback.
The perfect marriage. Our bond was unbreakable. His support
unwavering.
The perfect career. As the recently-appointed executive
director for the Boston chapter of Mending Hearts, a child abuse prevention and
treatment program, my daily reward was helping to keep vulnerable, innocent
children from being preyed upon and destroyed. It’s all I’d wanted to do since
I was a teenager.
Perfect city. Perfect car. Perfect house with the perfect
view.
From the outside looking in, it was impossible to find a
single flaw in my life. I had it all. Everything I’d ever wanted.
But that kind of perfection came at a price. Demanded the
ultimate sacrifice.
What happened when I discovered what I’d been missing all
along? When I began to question if the lies were worth protecting?
What if suddenly the last thing I wanted was to be perfect?
Erin Noelle is a Texas native, where
she lives with her husband and two young daughters. While earning her degree in
History at the University of Houston, she rediscovered her love for reading
that was first instilled by her grandmother when she was a young child. A lover
of happily-ever-afters, both historical and current, Erin is an avid reader of
all romance novels. In 2013, she published the Book Boyfriend Series, which
includedbooks Metamorphosis, Ambrosia,
Euphoria, and Timeless, and recently published When the Sun Goes
Down, a contemporary romance novel. Her books have
been a part of the USA Today Bestselling list and the Amazon
and Barnes & Noble overall Top 100.
The perfect husband. Colin Cassidy—the incredibly talented,
extremely gorgeous, and unbelievably humble star NFL quarterback.
The perfect marriage. Our bond was unbreakable. His support
unwavering.
The perfect career. As the recently-appointed executive
director for the Boston chapter of Mending Hearts, a child abuse prevention and
treatment program, my daily reward was helping to keep vulnerable, innocent
children from being preyed upon and destroyed. It’s all I’d wanted to do since
I was a teenager.
Perfect city. Perfect car. Perfect house with the perfect
view.
From the outside looking in, it was impossible to find a
single flaw in my life. I had it all. Everything I’d ever wanted.
But that kind of perfection came at a price. Demanded the
ultimate sacrifice.
What happened when I discovered what I’d been missing all
along? When I began to question if the lies were worth protecting?
What if suddenly the last thing I wanted was to be perfect?
Erin Noelle is a Texas native, where
she lives with her husband and two young daughters. While earning her degree in
History at the University of Houston, she rediscovered her love for reading
that was first instilled by her grandmother when she was a young child. A lover
of happily-ever-afters, both historical and current, Erin is an avid reader of
all romance novels. In 2013, she published the Book Boyfriend Series, which
includedbooks Metamorphosis, Ambrosia,
Euphoria, and Timeless, and recently published When the Sun Goes
Down, a contemporary romance novel. Her books have
been a part of the USA Today Bestselling list and the Amazon
and Barnes & Noble overall Top 100.
The perfect husband. Colin Cassidy—the incredibly talented,
extremely gorgeous, and unbelievably humble star NFL quarterback.
The perfect marriage. Our bond was unbreakable. His support
unwavering.
The perfect career. As the recently-appointed executive
director for the Boston chapter of Mending Hearts, a child abuse prevention and
treatment program, my daily reward was helping to keep vulnerable, innocent
children from being preyed upon and destroyed. It’s all I’d wanted to do since
I was a teenager.
Perfect city. Perfect car. Perfect house with the perfect
view.
From the outside looking in, it was impossible to find a
single flaw in my life. I had it all. Everything I’d ever wanted.
But that kind of perfection came at a price. Demanded the
ultimate sacrifice.
What happened when I discovered what I’d been missing all
along? When I began to question if the lies were worth protecting?
What if suddenly the last thing I wanted was to be perfect?
“What
in the world is all this?” I asked with a chuckle, hovering under the archway
that separated the living room and kitchen. “Did you invite the offensive line
over for breakfast or something?”
Colin,
still dressed in his pajama pants and a plain white t-shirt, whisked something
feverishly at the stove while I gaped at the steaming, mouth-watering spread on
the butcher-block kitchen island. Buttery scrambled eggs. Waffles. French
toast. Crispy bacon. Sausage. Hash browns. Flaky buttermilk biscuits. And fresh
strawberries with homemade whipped cream to top it all off. I’m pretty sure I
gained five pounds just looking at it all. So much for that workout.
“I’d
need a lot more food than this, if that was the case,” he contended as he shot
me a teasing smile. Momentarily abandoning the baked beans in the saucepan, he
set the wooden spoon down on the counter, turned the heat down to low, and
closed the distance between us to kiss my forehead. “Morning, gorgeous. I’d
give you a proper hug, but my hands are all greasy. How was your workout?”
I
scrunched my nose up and gave a sharp shake of my head. “It sucked.”
His
chest shook with laughter as he bent down to rub the tip of his nose against
mine. An Eskimo kiss, it was called, according to Colin. My mom wasn’t big on
any kind of kisses, hugs, or demonstrations of love for anyone other than her
current boyfriend or husband, and since I’d never had a boyfriend before him,
it took me some time after Colin and I started dating to get used to his open
displays of affection—both public and private—but soon…soon I began to love
them. To live for them. They were my drug. He was my drug. All I needed to keep
my perfect world balanced and me grounded.
“You
knew better when you took that final glass of wine last night. I saw the
hesitation in your eyes,” he half-scolded, returning to the food I still
contended was not a breakfast food at all, despite his and his parents’ claim
otherwise. I didn’t care that Google backed them up, maintaining beans were
common in breakfasts throughout many countries that were once a part of the
British Empire. The only way I was eating them at nine in the morning was if I
was camping, or it was the apocalypse. Otherwise, they were a lunch or
dinner-only menu item.
“Yeah, I did.” Sighing, I shuffled inside the
gourmet kitchen and plopped down on one of the four bar stools situated around
the island, where we ate ninety-nine percent of our meals. It was my seat while we were in this room, which was more
often than not if we were home. When we originally bought the house after Colin
was drafted by his hometown team, the first thing we did was have the entire thing
gutted and redesigned to our liking.
The kitchen was my husband’s pet project, as
he claimed it would be the heart of our home. He personally selected everything
from the mahogany cabinets and black-and-tan marble countertops, to the natural
wood accessories and the toaster that had more settings than a spaceship. Warm,
cheery butterscotch walls. Restaurant-quality stainless steel appliances.
Ornate hardware on all of the drawers and cupboards. It didn’t make sense to me
then, but as we settled into our life together, I soon discovered that if we
weren’t in our bedrooms, chances were we were in the kitchen—either comparing
our daily schedules over coffee and a healthy breakfast in the mornings or
catching up at night at night over dinner. It was our place. Just like this was my stool. Unfortunately, our already-busy
schedules only seemed to be growing more and more hectic over the previous few
months, and we’d been missing each other more frequently than I’d have liked.
“You
never told me what this is all for,” I reminded him before I snuck a piece of
bacon and shoved it in my mouth.
“We’re
celebrating.” Peering over his shoulder, he smirked as he watched me chew the
heart-attack inducing deliciousness. “And get your grubby little fingers out of
the bacon until it’s time to make our plates.”
I
moaned as I swallowed. I couldn’t help it. It was that good. Bacon was my
weakness; I could never have a pet pig.
Once
I’d finished climaxing with Wilbur’s belly, I realized my husband was still
staring at me, his expression unreadable. “I hope you don’t do that in public,
Roe. That sound would give a hundred-year-old man on his deathbed a woody.”
My
right eyebrow arched high up into my forehead, a combination of confusion over
the celebration comment and a where-in-the-hell-did-he-come-up-with-some-of-this-stuff
look. I opted to ignore the old-guy-with-a-boner explanation and found out when
I could have more bacon. “What are we celebrating?”
He
twisted back around to stir the beans, even though I could see the burner was
off and they were clearly ready and didn’t need stirring. The only time Colin
didn’t face me when he was talking was when he was nervous. And only one
subject made Colin nervous.
“Well,
the success of the gala, of course. I know I said it last night, but I was so
impressed with everything. You kicked ass, babe.” He paused briefly to exhale
loudly then continued on. “This is also my last Sunday home before the season
starts. After this, we won’t get to do our Funday Sundays until after playoffs
next February, and I knew you were going to meet with Allison later, so I
wanted breakfast to be awesome.” Another pause. Longer this time. Two deep
breaths. “And after we got home last night—”
“This
incredible guy showed up,” a familiar male voice that belonged to Colin’s
childhood next-door neighbor and best friend finished the sentence from behind
me.
I
quickly spun around to find Seth Andrews closing in on where I sat, wearing
only a pair of loose athletic shorts and with his brown hair all a bedhead
mess. He scooped me up off the seat and twirled me in the air as he covered
both sides of my cheeks with kisses. I squealed with delight.
“Roe, baby girl, you were amazing last night!”
he exclaimed as he eventually lowered me back on the cushion then parked
himself two stools away from me. His spot. “Not
only did you look absolutely stunning, your speech was fuckin’ killah. Those
snooty assholes were eating out of the palms of your hands.”
“You do
know you’re one of those snooty assholes, right?” Colin scoffed from the
refrigerator while pulling out the milk and orange juice. “And watch your
language in my house, especially around Monroe.”
Seth rolled his eyes and snatched two pieces
of bacon from the platter, giving one to me and keeping the other for himself.
I giggled as Colin flared his nostrils when he caught us. “Roe doesn’t care if
I curse. She works with teenagers. Kids these days throw fuck around like it’s an everyday word. I bet
Oscar the Grouch teaches them how to spell it on Sesame Street now or some
shit.”
I
wanted to agree that he probably wasn’t far off, but instead of riling up Colin
even more and forcing him to get out the swear jar, I redirected the
conversation. “I was wondering if I was gonna see you here this morning,” I
said to Seth, “but when you weren’t around at the end of the gala, I thought
maybe you had to take Effie home and didn’t feel like driving back into town.”
“Nah,”
he shook his head as he grabbed a strawberry, “she wanted to go meet some of
her friends at a bar, and I didn’t want her on the streets by herself,
especially considering the fancy shit she was wearing. So I escorted her there
and hand-delivered her to a girl I somewhat trust. Then, I ran into a guy I
knew from school, so I stayed and had a couple beers while I waited for you two
to get home.”
“You
must’ve been quiet when you got here. Or I was so tired that I just passed out,
oblivious to the world around me.” I shrugged my shoulders, not surprised.
Erin Noelle is a Texas native, where
she lives with her husband and two young daughters. While earning her degree in
History at the University of Houston, she rediscovered her love for reading
that was first instilled by her grandmother when she was a young child. A lover
of happily-ever-afters, both historical and current, Erin is an avid reader of
all romance novels. In 2013, she published the Book Boyfriend Series, which
includedbooks Metamorphosis, Ambrosia,
Euphoria, and Timeless, and recently published When the Sun Goes
Down, a contemporary romance novel. Her books have
been a part of the USA Today Bestselling list and the Amazon
and Barnes & Noble overall Top 100.
