Sara Ney – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Sara Ney – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com Sat, 28 Feb 2026 17:32:53 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.books2020.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Sara Ney – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com 32 32 Love on Ice Read Online Sara Ney http://www.books2020.com/love-on-ice-read-online-sara-ney Sat, 28 Feb 2026 17:32:53 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/love-on-ice-read-online-sara-ney Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports, Young Adult Authors: Sara Ney Advertisement

Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 100612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >100

What's a girl to do when the star of the hockey team crash lands in her backyard after a prank gone wrong? Help him cover up the evidence...in exchange for him posing as the perfect prom date, of course. Get ready to swoon with this hilarious YA rom-com debut from the USA Today bestselling author of The Studying Hours Sara Ney!

Harper Conrad figures when opportunity knocks, smart girls listen. Which is why when she catches high school hockey star Easton Burbank trespassing on her parents’ property after stealing their rival school's mascot, she knows exactly what to do.

The deal is simple. In exchange for Harper's silence, Easton will become her date to their upcoming prom. It's a win-win Easton doesn't lose his hockey scholarship over a silly prank, and Harper can finally justify her purchase of the mega-expensive prom dress sitting in her closet. The perfect bargain...but what happens when what starts as a cover-up begins to feel all too real?

You know how the saying goes, “If you like someone, set them free. If they come back to you, they were meant to be your prom date.” Or something like that

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Prologue

Easton

I can’t see.

Can’t hear, either—nothing but the thoughts in my brain and the thunk thunk of my head knocking around.

Still, I run.

Frantically, hoping and praying I don’t smash into a tree or twist my ankle falling into a hole, or worse, breaking something because my pace is fast and frantic.

This is literally the dumbest thing I’ve ever done.

Seriously stupid.

It’s dark—of course it is, I’m in the woods near the back of the high school, at the edge of a golf course subdivision but not so close I’m going to get busted for trespassing.

At least, that was the plan when I shoved this monstrosity on my head.

I figured wearing it would be easier than carrying it, but I’m having second thoughts about that, too.

Fuck, it’s hot in this thing, and excuse my language but it’s so damn hot.

So hot.

And could someone tell me why I chose to eat Mexican food for dinner? I feel it rolling in my stomach along with the nerves I’ve felt all damn day. All week.

All month.

I’m so screwed.

I continue running, the light of the nearby high school glowing in the distance, their athletic fields lit up like the Fourth of July as their girls soccer team plays under the bright lights.

Breathe, Easton.

Breathe.

I do, heavily.

It’s not easy with this thing on my head.

Seriously, damn.

In through my nose, out through my mouth, the spicy salsa I ate hours earlier lingering on my breath and dang near suffocating me inside this prison I’m trapped in, rammed on top of my head.

I dodge and weave best I can through the woods, branches slapping the plastic protecting my face, occasionally stabbing me in the chest. That’s protected, too, but only because of the massive pile of brown fur I’m carrying in my arms.

Thank god for that or I would be in rough shape.

My toe gets caught on a root and I stumble, catching myself just in time to keep from face-planting.

I stop; adjust the monstrosity on my head so I can see where I’m going, the lights in the distance appearing more…distant? Which makes no sense, I’m running in the right direction.

I think.

I was.

Crap, this thing is making it almost impossible to get a visual on my surroundings.

My heart pounds wildly inside my chest, beating erratically as if I were on the ice in an intense game.

“You got this, Easton. You’re almost home free.”

And now I’m muttering to myself.

Great.

Somewhere to my right—or maybe it’s my left—I hear a dog barking.

Smell the telltale signs of a charcoal grill. Burgers?

It’s hard to tell.

My stomach rolls again in one last act of betrayal.

Do not puke. Do not puke.

Do.

Not.

PUKE.

I suck in an inhale to keep my breathing in check.

In through the nose, out through the mouth, in through the nose, out through the mouth, in through the nose, out through the—

Stumble again, hitting something hard at hip height.

Fumble in front of me to gauge what that thing might be.

Wood?

A bush?

“Hey. You!”

Oh shit.

Oh no.

“YOU! STOP!”

I pick up my pace, choking down the vomit in my throat, adrenaline shooting through my entire body and—

Hit the ground harder than any time I’ve been hit by any defenseman or thrown to the ice during a game.

Whoosh.

The air leaves my body, the monstrosity partially leaves my head, the gust of air a welcome invader.

Yes. Thank god, I can finally breathe.

Still can’t see, though.

My hands move first, up to remove it, gripping the sides, pulling.

“FREEZE, MOTHER EFFER,” the voice commands.

I freeze.

But, like—mother effer?

Who says that instead of using the actual swear word?

I snort, despite the fact that I’m fucking scared.

Terrified, actually.

The sound of crunching leaves. Breaking sticks.

I’m incapable of moving another inch, but I can remove this helmet, if only to get more air.

“I said freeze, mother effer! Do what you’re told and you won’t get hurt.”

Do what you’re told and you won’t get hurt.

Definitely a female voice.

Sounds young, too.

A foot lands on my gut, causing me to gasp.

“You’re not the boss of me,” I force out.

A tsk. “You’re in my yard, a-hole.”

I don’t move.

Can’t.

“Take that stupid thing off your head so I can see your face.”

Pause.

“Do it or I’m calling the cops.”

Once again, I comply.

Lift the thing off my head, darkness making it impossible to see, especially when—

“Jesus!”

I’m blinded by flashes—a cell phone camera—one after the other.

Then the clicking of a tongue as my eyes adjust to what little natural sunlight remains. A porch.

A yard.

A girl from my senior class staring down at me.

“Well, well, well—if it isn’t the one and only Easton Westermann committing a crime in my very own backyard.”

Chapter 1

Easton

Three days earlier…

“We dare you to ask Maddie Miller on a date.”

I stare at my three friends, my hands gripping the sandwich on my lunch tray.

They dare me?

To ask Maddie Miller on a date.

As if I would ever do that, in a million years.

Maddie. Miller. My dream girl.

My eyes slide across the courtyard to the table where she sits, basking in the limelight, surrounded by her friends. Long blond hair. Bronze skin. Short jean shorts and a crop top, despite the cooler temperatures. Maddie and her friends sit—untouchable—holding court while the students surrounding them eat lunch.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >100

Advertisement Falling for the Fake Lumberjack (Axes & Endzones #1) Read Online Sara Ney http://www.books2020.com/falling-for-the-fake-lumberjack-axes-endzones-1-read-online-sara-ney Thu, 26 Feb 2026 08:20:32 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/falling-for-the-fake-lumberjack-axes-endzones-1-read-online-sara-ney Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports Authors: Sara Ney Series: Axes & Endzones Series by Sara Ney
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 88460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >89

A small-town yoga teacher finds something real with a linebacker posing as a lumberjack in this sharp and spicy romance from USA Today bestselling author Sara Ney.

With rugged good looks and muscles for days, Harris Bennett stops traffic no matter what he’s wearing—flannel shirt or football jersey. So when management sends him to Star Lake, Washington, for a team-building retreat, it’s no wonder a local mistakes him for a lumberjack. And Harris leans right into the misunderstanding. Because that “local” looks amazing in yoga pants.

Lucy LeBrandt is a yoga instructor with trust issues: She doesn’t have time for men. But she’s definitely drawn to the hot, goofy lumberjack who seems to know nothing about, well, lumberjacking. He’s only in town for a week. Maybe she can squeeze him in between classes…

Harris has no idea what to do with an axe, and Lucy has no idea what to do about Harris. But they both know exactly what to do when they’re alone together. Can they split the difference between them, or is their romance just one stroke away from “TIIIIIMBER!”?

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter 1

Harris

I know relaxing isn’t in your DNA, but you owe it to yourselves to try—you assholes need it, some more than others.

Coach’s voice carried through the locker room when he made his announcement a few weeks back, half joking—about sending the team on a retreat.

Retreat?

What are we, ten years old?

Management always gets what it wants, and what they want is all the guys on my line sent on a team-building retreat. Don’t know who pissed in their Cheerios, but it looks like I’m gonna be stuck in some rando lake resort near the mountains for some “well-deserved” R & R and other nature-inspired bull crap.

As if throwing a bunch of competitive maniacs in the wilderness were going to help us unwind and bond and shit.

I mean. What does one do at a lake?

Kayak? Not interested. Go boating? Last time I boated, it included beer and wakeboarding, and we’ve been told not to embarrass ourselves by drinking. Can’t swim—too cold. And have I mentioned I loathe getting touched by things I cannot see beneath the water? Seaweed and such?

Uh, hello—have you heard of the Loch Ness Monster?

Don’t fish. I refuse to. Since I went fishing with my Grandpa Walt the summer I turned nine and got hooked in the ear by one of his errant casts, I will not fish, and you cannot make me. The grudge game is strong with this one.

“Fishing is a state of mind, bro,” my teammate Dex declared after discovering our destination was a mountain town. “It’s you, your worm, and—”

I cut him off. “I’m not touching worms.”

He shrugged. “You can use fake bait. Some of them have glitter.”

“No fishing.”

“Fine.” He sneered at me, disgusted by my lack of masculinity. “Don’t come crying to me when you’re bored out of your mind.”

Bored?

Yeah, I probably will be bored; at least I’ll have my own space.

I was lucky enough to score my own little cottage (thanks to my seniority), which is more than I can say for half the linemen on my team, crammed together in the massive lodge at the top of the hill.

Granted, it has a full staff and full amenities. And room service. And a spa . . .

I double-check the address on my phone before pulling into the gravel driveway of my little rental, happy to have finally arrived after a three-hour-long drive from the city. Cut the engine and sit gazing at it several moments, taking in the peace and quiet.

Not a peep, unless you count the birds.

I listen harder.

Huh. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

I step out of the truck, pea gravel gritty beneath my boots, and retrieve my overnight crap. With the press of a button, the hatch in back lifts. I grab my bag and heft it over my shoulder, glancing around me at the trees and stuff.

The resort has cottages scattered near the lake, a long stretch of water and shoreline in the near distance. Pine trees line the edge of the property, their needles crunching under my feet along with the gravel, branches swaying softly in the wind.

I raise my nose in the air and sniff; the faint smell of woodsmoke lingering, mixing with the scent of pine, crisp and fresh.

“Ahhh.”

Not bad at all!

Beyond the cottages, a vast lake glistens under the sun’s rays, with dozens of docks stretching out with an invitation to dip your toes into the cool water or jump in—something I will not be doing.

My assigned cottage isn’t big by any means, but the charm makes up for its size. Window boxes. Two matching rocking chairs. I squint at them, trying to picture myself sipping coffee out here like the sort of calm, reflective guy who drinks coffee by the lake.

News flash: I am not that guy.

A stone path leading up to a door painted a muddy shade of green—the same color as the patches of moss that cling to the sloped roof in a way that feels more quaint than neglected.

Best of all?

No roommate.

I drop my bag on the porch with a satisfying thud and stand there, soaking in the silence. No teammates bitching at each other. No Coach blowing his whistle like we’re about to storm the beaches of Normandy. Peace and quiet.

Solitude.

But no key.

Why did I throw out the welcome instructions?

“’Cause you’re an idiot.”

Whatever—I can figure this out. The key must be here somewhere.

“Great start,” I mutter to myself. Nothing says relaxation like breaking into your own cabin.

I glance around like the key’s going to magically appear in front of me. Maybe it’s under the doormat or something—people do that, yeah?

After a few moments of awkwardly patting down random surfaces like a cop at airport security, I spot a little wooden plaque by the door with a cheery Welcome! sign.

Behind it?

The key.

“Wow. Great fucking hiding spot. Took all of three seconds,” I grumble, fitting it into the lock and pushing through the door. “I’m definitely going to be murdered in my sleep.”

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >89

Advertisement Don’t Go Breaking My Heart – Houston Baddies Read Online Sara Ney http://www.books2020.com/dont-go-breaking-my-heart-houston-baddies-read-online-sara-ney Sun, 12 Oct 2025 20:51:56 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/dont-go-breaking-my-heart-houston-baddies-read-online-sara-ney Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic Authors: Sara Ney Advertisement

Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 92646 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >91

From USA Today bestselling author Sara Ney comes a laugh-out-loud, swoon-filled romantic comedy that’s perfect for every independent girlie who knows exactly what she wants—but falls for the one person she shouldn’ her shirtless roommate across the hallway….

When I landed a new job in a brand-new city, I needed a place to live—fast. the spare bedroom in a suburbia McMansion with a pool, wine fridge, and stove that probably costs more than my car. Perfect setup, right?

Wrong. My new roommate saw me practically naked on night one. Then I catch him doing something that rhymes with “disasterbating.”

Half hockey player, half Viking, Turner “Skaggs” Hutton III is the human embodiment of a golden retriever and is off-limits. Which would be easy if the chemistry between us wasn’t hotter than this blazing Texas sun…
The chemistry? Molten.
The tension? Physically painful.

slow burn with zero impulse control. tight spaces with his hand on my thigh during a cramped car ride… And could someone please explain to me why I find it so damn sexy watching his massive hands choose the prefect LEGO brick? Send help!

He’s sworn off distractions to save his career. I’m focused on building mine and certainly not looking for a boyfriend. But when one too many lapses in judgment and one missed cycle leads to an emergency trip to the pharmacy…

Well. Things could get complicated

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

prologue

. . .

Poppy

This is bonkers.

I got the job in Houston and I’m moving.

Again.

But it’s a promotion, with benefits. Vacation days. Paid sick leave and personal days—and a security clearance keycard badge that I fully intend to bedazzle.

I GOT THE FREAKING JOB!

Better yet? The gig is in Houston, aka: home of my best friend Nova and her fiancé Luca, which means built in community. Built in support system. Built in fun. Also home of highways, cattle, and cowboys.

This isn’t the first time I’ve packed up my life and started over somewhere new—but this is the first time it feels… different. Less like an escape, more like a decision.

I chose this.

The job is good. Better than good.

I’ll be leading the cybersecurity team at a rising tech firm, and they’re already throwing around words like promotion track and stock options.

Yay, me!

I take a peek at my phone for the third time in ten seconds, as if staring at it was going to make it ring. Ring, dammit!

When it finally does, I’m standing in the center of my living room—well, soon-to-be-former living room—surrounded by a crime scene of empty boxes, bubble wrap, and one half-eaten sleeve of Oreos I’ve been using for morale.

It finally rings, and I answer so fast I nearly dislocate a thumb.

“Are you wearing it right now?” I blurt out, needing to see her hand.

Again.

Nova, my best friend, is newly engaged and the size of the ring damn near knocked me off my feet when I saw it. Like, literally—I tripped over a shoe rack and almost ate carpet.

She lifts her hand with a smug little smile, the rock catching the light like it’s auditioning for a role in a heist movie.

“Jesus,” I mutter, squinting. “Is that a diamond or a disco ball?”

She laughs, breathless. Happy. “I haven’t stopped staring at it. I almost ran into a display of light bulbs at the Home Depot yesterday.”

Don’t blame her.

We squeal at the same time, which makes me laugh and wipe a tear I didn’t expect. Because it’s not just about the ring. Or the proposal. Or the fact that she got the produce aisle moment of a lifetime.

It’s the fact that my best friend is in love.

So damn in love.

And it’s happening. And I’m going to be there. In the same city. Starting over but definitely not alone.

“Please, please, please help me find an apartment,” I say. “Preferably one with a view. And a pool. And a rooftop garden.”

Nova rolls her eyes at my demands.

“I can do you one better.” She props her phone against the tile backsplash in her kitchen and goes about her business wiping down her counter. “Are you ready for this?”

I stop taping a box of knickknacks I’m donating to the Salvation Army. “Hit me.”

Nova stops wiping and grins at the camera.

“Luca’s house, the one he owns not too far from here, has a spare bedroom.”

My ears perk up. “Spare bedroom?”

She resumes cleaning. “Unless the guys haven’t moved into the primary bedroom, yeah. There’s a room that’s available and I’m one hundred percent positive they wouldn’t care if you moved in.”

My spine straightens like I’ve just been told I won a luxury yacht and free skin-care for life.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

‘Cause I’m interested!

Nova holds up her hands. “I’m saying if you’re willing to live in the suburbs with two semi-domesticated male athletes and their ill-mannered dog, the room is yours.”

Semi-domesticated? “Are they clean?”

She hesitates.

“Nova.”

Her shoulders lift up and down. “They try their best?”

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >91

Advertisement Biggest Player (Not Yours #2) Read Online Sara Ney http://www.books2020.com/biggest-player-not-yours-2-read-online-sara-ney Sat, 16 Aug 2025 22:26:13 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/biggest-player-not-yours-2-read-online-sara-ney Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports Authors: Sara Ney Series: Not Yours Series by Sara Ney
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 91065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >90

Bestselling author Sara Ney scores with a fiery romance about online dating, where a single mom and a football pro ignite sparks when they swipe right—even though they know it’s all wrong.

Margot’s a busy single mom juggling teaching, parenting, and trying not to die alone. Dating apps? Total nightmare. But desperate times call for desperate swipes, even if they make her break out in stress hives. When she matches with a guy who looks too good to be true, she’s convinced he’s a walking red flag—or worse—a catfish.

Dex is hot, and he knows it. A quarterback with a killer smile and looks to spare, he’s a good guy looking for a long-term relationship. He wants what his friends someone to come home to…and if they’re naked when he gets there, even better. When he logs on for a casual scroll, he’s not expecting to meet her. One swipe, and suddenly he’s hooked.

Margot’s convinced he’s a catfish. Dex has zero dad bod and no dad energy. But their sizzling back-and-forth leaves them both thinking “what if.” After a surprise run-in leads to a mind-blowing (and soggy AF) kiss, their opposites-attract energy skyrockets. Can they find a way to make it last?

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter 1

Dex

Swipe left.

Swipe left.

Always to the left . . .

I sigh, mindlessly trolling the dating app as if it were my job, my ass planted firmly in this reclining chair for the past hour.

Swipe left.

“Everything in a box to the left . . . ,” I singsong humorously, continuing on my dating journey, proud of myself for having the strength to go on.

I’m not one of those dudes who goes on a binge when scrolling; I do not swipe right on every living, breathing person with a pulse. I look at all the photos and try to get a vibe.

I read the biographies.

I’m picky—some would say a little too picky—but I have my reasons.

Pfft. What does picky mean anyway? I consider it having standards and not settling, but if you want to be an asshole and judge me for it, be my guest.

I take a slice of pizza resting on a plate on the side table and dangle it in front of my face, aiming for my mouth. Take a bite. Chew. Swallow.

Swipe.

Chew.

Swallow.

Swipe.

This is my new favorite Sunday-evening activity, since I don’t have to play in a game tonight.

See, that’s something you don’t know about me. Not to brag, but I play professional football and I’m kind of a big fucking deal.

It’s the offseason right now, which means I have time to fuck around and try dating—which I’ve been going hard at for months. And months. And months of me looking for love in all the wrong places, and those places include these damn dating apps.

I have four of them on my phone, including the new Kissmet app, which my buddy Landon’s girlfriend developed—sorry if that was a mouthful.

I think it’s great he’s dating someone who has her own thing going on—Harlow is a badass in her own right. The fact that she happens to be dating an old teammate of mine is a bonus.

I’m the least romantic guy you’ve ever met, but I have to admit, my best friend is one lucky bastard.

I figured it was time to join the club and be part of “couple goals,” but damn. It’s harder than it looks!

I stare at the profile of a woman named Madisson—yes, with a double s. From the looks of it, Madisson loves fishing, hiking, and new adventures. Has a golden retriever. Loves trying new food and traveling. And has several photos that are heavily filtered.

Already aggravated by the dumb way she spells her name, I swipe left to delete her.

Poof!

Just like that she disappears into oblivion, only to reappear once I run out of local matches. Ha fucking ha.

But the joke seems to be on me because finding someone I click with has been impossible. I’m fun, dude! It should not be this difficult to connect with a woman in person. Unfortunately, that has been my reality.

Landon, my best friend, called me a fucking idiot to my face because on the dating app I am there as myself. He thinks I should create a different profile with a nickname, using photographs that don’t reveal my true identity.

Which makes no sense to me.

Why shouldn’t I be me? Isn’t that what the ladies want?

And so, I use my real name, my real photos, my real age.

I even had my house manager, Ms. Dorothy, help with my bio, though Harlow and Landon offered to write it for me.

Ha. As if.

Dex, 25

Professional Football Player

Nice young man in search of a serious relationship.

Tall, dark, and handsome.

Funny. Sarcasm is my second language.

Loves eating but not cooking, unless you include frozen pizza.

Still discovering what it is I want.

No cat people. Dogs only (big dogs preferable).

The “serious relationship” part at the beginning of the bio? Still on the fence about including it, but I didn’t have the heart to tell Dorothy otherwise. She’s old enough to be my grandmother, which means she’s old fashioned. The only real option with her reading over my shoulder was to write that I’m looking for something long term, even though I wouldn’t mind a friend-with-benefits situation.

Or just the benefits.

See? Mostly honest.

Why should I pretend to be someone I’m not? Why should I use pictures that aren’t mine to avoid gold diggers? Shouldn’t a woman know who she’s going out with before she goes out with him?

They should be so lucky! It’s not my fault I am who I am!

I jam the remaining hunk of pizza down my gullet and thumb to the messages within the Kissmet app, the little heart icon bursting with tiny pink envelopes to indicate I have mail. Or a message. Or whatever.

It’s like a party every goddamn time I log in, confetti and hearts and all that cutesy bullshit.

But it also gives me a confident feeling I don’t get with the other dating apps. I mean, come on—who doesn’t love confetti raining down on them? It’s as if the app is congratulating me for making the correct choice to log in.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >90

Advertisement Can’t Always Get What You Want – Houston Baddies Hockey Read Online Sara Ney http://www.books2020.com/cant-always-get-what-you-want-houston-baddies-hockey-read-online-sara-ney Thu, 12 Jun 2025 17:15:05 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/cant-always-get-what-you-want-houston-baddies-hockey-read-online-sara-ney Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Forbidden, Sports Authors: Sara Ney Advertisement

Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 102607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >99

Next from USA Today Bestselling Author Sara Ney is a fast-paced, laugh-out-loud romp packed with sizzling chemistry, sharp banter, and a no-strings fling that’s about to break all the rules. The follow up to Hit Me With Your Best Shot will leave you wanting more... There are two sacred rules in the Montagalo

Family comes first. Don’t date my brother’s teammates. Of course I went and broke both… It started with a little banter on a dating app. A teeny, tiny Flirty messages with Luca Babineaux, the sweet, charming—and stupidly attractive forward on the Houston Baddies—who makes sweat and bruises look so f’ing hot. One spark turns into a secret first date. A few kisses become way more.

Now I’m tangled in a full-blown secret romance and every time Gio walks into the room, I have a full-blown anxiety attack.

Dating in secret? Thrilling. Lying to my brother? Exhausting. Falling for Luca Babineaux obviously wasn’t part of the game plan. It never is, is it? He wants to go public with our relationship. I’d rather not.

Now I have to decide what matters keeping my promises to my dumb, overprotective brother...or choose myself for once.

All’s fair in love and hockey. Right?

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

prologue

Nova

I’m not being dramatic when I say I’ve never been so upset a person left me in all my life.

Fine. I know he hasn’t left me, left me—he’s literally moving into a house in the suburbs outside of the city—but still. Nearly the same thing…

It’s depressing knowing my brother, Gio, is no longer living three floors above me; I can no longer surprise him with visits, can’t steal food from his fridge, can't interrupt him and his girlfriend in any tender moments. He’s been my built-in safety net, my loud, annoying, overprotective safety net.

And now he’s gone.

Packed up his things, kissed me on the forehead, and drove off to suburbia with his very pregnant girlfriend.

And call it habit—call it codependency, call it whatever you want—but it feels like I’m losing my partner in crime.

Partner in crime? Ugh. I hate when people say that, especially men on dating apps. Ha ha, looking for my partner in crime! No, Chad, you’re looking for someone to split your Netflix subscription and swipe their ex’s password for Hulu.

With a miserable groan, I throw myself onto the couch, weight of my sudden loneliness hitting me square in the chest.

“You get it, don’t you, Gio?” I ask, scratching the dog behind his weird ears. Yes, the dog has the same name as my brother–it’s a long story. He belongs to Austin, my brother’s girlfriend and he’s glaring at me, letting out a dramatic sigh as if to say, Can you keep it down, lady? I’m trying to nap.

Jeez. I thought babysitting him would be fun, but he’s been nothing but salty.

He probably feels abandoned too, though they’re coming to pick him up on Monday. They wanted the weekend to get moved in and didn’t want the dog to feel out of sorts with movers going in and out.

“Glad someone’s thriving,” I mutter, pulling out my phone and opening the dating apps.

When your brother moves out and your couch buddy is a dog that resents you for being a shitty dog sitter, there’s no better time for emotional self-sabotage.

Let the games begin!

The first guy? Shirtless mirror selfie.

Swipe left.

The second guy? Holding a fish.

“Why is it always a fish? Are they trying to prove they can provide sustenance in a post-apocalyptic world?”

Swipe left.

The third? Another traveler, every photo in a different exotic location, including Machu Picchu and the Canary Islands.

“Sir, I can’t even afford a latte right now.”

Swipe left.

“Little dude, why are men like this?” I ask the dog, turning the phone toward him. He squints at the screen unimpressed and sniffs the air. “Want to move in with me permanently? Wouldn’t that be fun? Huh?”

I go to give him more pets, but he lets out a soft sneeze and hops off the couch—clearly over my pity party. Gio trots to the other end of the room, his bald stick legs barely making a sound, before flopping onto his blanket.

“Never mind. I take that back.” I didn’t need a dog’s support to have my feelings validated anyway.

I glance back at my phone, debating whether to swipe on another profile or just delete the app altogether.

Curiosity wins out and I continue scrolling; mindlessly, thumb hovering over a man’s profile named Blake. Five years older, well-dressed, and posing with a golden retriever in front of a hiking trail.

“Hmm,” I mumble, narrowing my eyes at the screen. “Are you really outdoorsy, Blake—or did you borrow your cousin’s dog for the photo?”

I tap on his bio.

It goes on and on, blah blah blah, “lover of coffee, live music, and spontaneous road trips.”

Okay, Blake.

A little generic, but nothing offensive. No shirtless selfies, no fish photos—already an improvement!

I glance over at Gio, who is now snoring softly on his blanket.

“What do you think?” I say to no one. “Swipe right or no?”

The dog’s ears don’t twitch.

“Fine. Swipe left,” I say, swiping past Blake and moving on to the next profile.

It’s a guy holding a sword. Not, like, a fencing sword—an actual sword. In his living room.

“Jesus Christ,” I mutter, swiping left so fast I nearly drop my phone.

The next guy is a little better: a cute smile, some pictures with friends, and no immediate red flags.

The bio? Looking for my queen. Must love adventure and tacos.

I groan. “Must love tacos? What does that mean? Everyone loves tacos, Kevin. You’re not special!”

Left.

My thumb freezes over the next profile, though, because the guy looks… familiar? No, not familiar. He looks exactly like my childhood dentist. Same slightly unnerving smile, same weirdly perfect hair, but grayer than the last time I had a cavity, which was over ten years ago.

“Nope,” I say aloud. “You are a creep!”

I flop back on the couch, staring at the ceiling as Gio lets out a tiny snort in his sleep.

“This is it,” I tell him. “This is my life now. Me, you, and a never-ending stream of weirdos on the internet.”

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >99

Advertisement Hit Me With Your Best Shot – Houston Baddies Hockey Read Online Sara Ney http://www.books2020.com/hit-me-with-your-best-shot-houston-baddies-hockey-read-online-sara-ney Wed, 19 Mar 2025 15:57:20 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/hit-me-with-your-best-shot-houston-baddies-hockey-read-online-sara-ney Genre: Alpha Male, Funny, Insta-Love, Sports Authors: Sara Ney Advertisement

Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 97767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >96

USA Today bestselling author Sara Ney sizzles with a fast-paced, sexy romp about a sassy fan-girl and flailing hockey star in this hilarious stand-alone...

I didn’t mean to roast Gio Montagalo, goalie and crown jewel of The Houston Baddies hockey team. Honestly, I was screaming at the TV in a sports bar like any self-respecting sports junkie does when their team is on a losing streak! So when his twin sister sidles up on the stool beside me, laughing at my commentary, I figured I’d made a fan, too. What I didn’t expect? For her brother—the guy I called “a flashy ice peacock with the reflexes of a sloth”—to hear about it.

Yikes. What were the odds?!
Next thing I know, Gio is in my DMs with a challenge: “Hold up a sassy sign at my game and hit me with your best shot. Roast me in front of everyone.” For him, it’s fun. For me, it’s humiliating. But I did it. Glitter included. And because the universe thrives on chaos, the Baddies won.

Now Gio thinks I’m his good luck charm, begging me to show up with more signs. He also wants to see me—off the ice.

What does a hot, hockey hunk want with a bookish girlie like me?

I try to keep my distance. Mostly.
Soon, Gio is showing up at my job for swoony kisses and trying to charm my dog—also named Gio—and failing because my dog hates him at first sight. I wonder if this whole “lucky charm” thing has less to do with hockey and more to do with the overwhelming, undeniable pull I feel toward him. Or maybe it’s fate’s way of showing me that sometimes, the guy you roast on national TV can be the one you accidentally fall for.

Fast-paced and hilarious, Hit Me With Your Best Shot is full of electric chemistry—and tons of spice. Austin Adam's life just went from shouting at the TV screen—to becoming part of the show

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

austin

They thought I was a nice, nerdy, bookish girl⁠—

then hockey season started…

If you would’ve told me I’d have to miss going to this hockey game, I would’ve laughed/cried in your face.

Seriously.

Hockey isn’t just a sport to me—it’s a religion.

The thing you should know about me (because we’re still strangers, you and I) is that I’m a Super Fan.

Capital S, capital F.

I’m talking: custom jerseys, face paint, cardboard signs to hold up—the whole nine yards.

It must be genetic because my dad? He loved hockey, too. And since he’s up in heaven looking down on me, watching makes it feel like he’s still here. So, yeah.

I’ll probably never stop loving the game.

When Dad passed, I was gifted his season passes to the Houston Baddies and I haven’t missed a game since.

Until tonight.

Missing the game feels sacrilegious somehow; like the universe is playing a cruel trick on me. But here I am, out of the arena, with my heart in the rink, watching the game from a screen instead of my usual seat.

But hey, I did a good thing, right?

Letting my friend Paul—also a die-hard fan—use the seats. He’s planning to propose to his boyfriend during the third period, and it’s going to be on the freaking Jumbotron.

Super romantic.

Super public.

So extra—exactly like Paul and Emilio.

Giving him the seats felt like the perfect engagement gift. If missing the game means they’ll have a night to remember, it’s worth it.

So here I am, at a bar called Five Alarm near my condo, watching from a plasma screen like a mere mortal instead of the superfan I am.

Love trumps hockey.

Sometimes.

“Come on!” I shout at the wall of monitors in front of me. “Let’s go!”

The Baddies aren’t going to win the way they’re playing tonight.

Like complete shit.

A groan escapes me as one of the forwards fumbles a pass, turning over the puck. Again.

“It’s like they’ve forgotten they’re on ice!” I complain to no one in particular, throwing my hands in the air. A couple of heads turn my way from the far end of the bar, but I’m not bothered.

If I can’t be in the arena, I’ll be the loudest Baddie’s fan this place has ever seen, my eyes never leaving the television set.

And just like that, they miss another goal.

How hard is it to shoot the puck into the net?

"You have got to be kidding me!” I practically levitate off the stool in frustration, smacking at the bar top as I screech, “Come on!”

The handsome bartender chuckles as he wipes down the counter.

“Rough night?”

“You could say that,” I huff, crossing my arms. “I should be there. You do one nice deed for a friend and look where it lands you.”

I wave a hand at the screen, clearly unimpressed by my team’s lackluster performance.

“Tell me how you really feel.” He grins, sliding another drink my way.

"Maybe they’re losing because I’m not there," I theorize, narrowing my eyes as if I could somehow will the team to score by force of disappointment.

The bartender snorts. "For sure. I’m sure you’re the missing piece."

“I’m serious!” I exclaim, leaning forward. “I haven’t missed a game in years, and now this? There is no such thing as a coincidence.”

He raises an eyebrow. “They play better when you’re screaming from the stands?”

“Exactly!” I’m oddly validated by his sentiment. “My energy fuels them. They need me. And I’m stuck here, drinking this sad little beer while Paul is out there making romantic history on the Jumbotron.”

Bastard.

"Paul?” The bartender looks intrigued, wiping down another glass and lingering nearby. “Is he your boyfriend?”

“My boyfriend?” I snort. Please. “No—platonic friends from elementary school.”

He stops wiping and leans forward. “And you’re only here because you let him have your seats.”

I nod, sipping the beer. “Indeed.”

“So you’re a giver?”

Eh?

Is that some sort of sexual innuendo or is he genuinely asking if I’m a kind person?

“Uh. Sure,” I reply cautiously, giving him a half-smile, unsure where this is going. I don’t love it when guys make snarky comments—it makes me uneasy and off-kilter.

My eyes flicker back to the monitor and I realize I missed the last few minutes of the game because of the bartender's chatter.

Damn.

“Shit, what did I miss?” I ask, sitting up straighter, but the bartender grins wider as if pleased he was a distraction.

“You sure are cute when you’re riled up.”

I ignore him as I fixate back on the screen, trying to catch up on the action. I need him to stop talking to me and go away—not flirt.

He is not my type.

I hope he doesn’t try and pass me his phone number because there’s another number I’m obsessed with, and player thirty, the goalie, who is letting one shot after another slide right through his legs like a rookie on open skate night.

Houston is struggling and it’s getting harder to stay calm.

"Block it, number thirty! Block it!" I shout, voice escalating. "It’s called being a goalie! Maybe try it sometime!"

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >96

Advertisement Not Your Biggest Fan (Not Yours #1) Read Online Sara Ney http://www.books2020.com/not-your-biggest-fan-not-yours-1-read-online-sara-ney Sun, 02 Feb 2025 19:14:23 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/not-your-biggest-fan-not-yours-1-read-online-sara-ney Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports Authors: Sara Ney Series: Not Yours Series by Sara Ney
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 90736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >91

USA Today bestselling author Sara Ney sizzles with a quick-witted, sexy romp about an eager entrepreneur and a cocky football star who couldn’t be more different—or more into each other.

Harlow James is destined to rock the dating world. The creator of Kissmet, the app helping singles find love, she’s in New York to secure advertisers. But the sassy, small-town girl can’t help meddling in other people’s business.

When she runs into a muscular stranger at her go-to food truck, Harlow doesn’t realize he’s Landon “Andy” Burke, the NFL’s most-wanted free agent, in town to talk contracts. She just sees a hottie about to get burned by undercooked street food. Though she tries to warn him, he shrugs her off, making a little wager instead.

In a messy twist of fate, Andy finds himself in the same hotel as Harlow. When she collects on their bet, they make a mind-blowing—and bed-rocking—connection. But after the weekend, she goes home to Green Bay to her goofy dad and corgi, ready to focus everything on work again. Kissmet, however, has other ideas, when Andy knocks on her door…

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter 1

Harlow

Being single has its perks.

I have no one to answer to.

I have an entire bed all to myself, no sharing.

I can travel at a moment’s notice, like I am now.

Yup. Life is real good.

“Just a small-town girl, chillin’ in a big, bad world . . .”

I sing off key, as usual, unable to carry the melody, a jaunty pep in my step as I bop along the street, kicking a wayward stone that somehow made its way onto the sidewalk.

As I get closer to the entrance to Central Park, here to people watch and get some vitamin D, I shift my laptop bag higher on my shoulder.

And work, obviously.

I look like a local and feel like a local, adopting the New York state of mind. Low patience for the congested traffic. Basking in the hustle. Harboring a newfound disdain for tourists. Wearing sneakers with every outfit. Walking everywhere.

When I need a cab, I stick my arm out into the street to flag one down as if I’ve been doing it my whole life.

I’m miraculously able to locate an empty bench near the entrance of the park, plop down, and unzip my computer from its sleeve before setting it in my lap and cracking it open. It whirs to life, my desktop icons slowly loading—and while it’s doing that, I scan the area around me with curiosity, nibbling my lower lip.

A tired-looking woman pushes a stroller with an infant in it while a toddler catches a ride on the back. Is she the nanny? Or are these her children?

A man in tiny tight khaki shorts struts past walking a miniature poodle with a pink leash.

I stare down the hot dog cart, which also sells soft pretzels, chicken kebabs, chicken tenders, and a few other things that don’t make sense to sell together. Ice cream. Gyros. Apples.

A few men linger near the truck, obviously on their lunch break, each of them wearing a different version of the same outfit: dress pants, polo shirt, shoes with no socks.

Loafers.

Men back home don’t wear anything like this.

I hide a smile, tucking it into the collar of my crewneck, not wanting to be sitting here grinning like an idiot to myself.

The air is fresh.

The environment is loud.

Busy.

Full of people who always seem to be in a rush to get somewhere.

Yet, somehow, I’m relaxed on this park bench.

Ahh.

This is the life.

I stretch, feeling very much like a New Yorker—heck, I might even leave with an accent by the end of the weekend!

My stomach grumbles.

Guess that bagel and lox I ate this morning on my walk here wasn’t enough.

My stomach grumbles again, this time so loud I can hear it, so I root around in my laptop bag for a granola bar I know is buried in a pocket somewhere; I normally carry emergency snacks for occasions like this, but my hand digs and digs and comes up empty.

No snacks for me.

I rise, stuffing my laptop back into its sleeve, then into my computer bag. Sling it over my shoulder as I meander to the food truck parked at the curb, walking to the back of the short line. Only two people wait in front of me, so I make a show of studying the menu, eyes slowly straying from the menu . . . to the man in front of me.

His shoulders are wide, back tapering to a narrow waist.

Athletic shirt tight, the center column down his back soaked with sweat.

White cords are attached to the buds stuck in his ears.

Old-school headphones. Nice.

He has a thick neck, and is it possible to get physically turned on by the back of someone’s neck? Judging by the butterflies in my stomach, all signs point to yes.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >91

Advertisement The Pucker Next Door Read Online Sara Ney http://www.books2020.com/the-pucker-next-door-read-online-sara-ney Sat, 11 May 2024 14:57:27 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/the-pucker-next-door-read-online-sara-ney Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, New Adult, Sports Authors: Sara Ney Advertisement

Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 95340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >94

When a squirrel chews its way through my bedroom wall, I do the first thing any single girl like me would do: run screaming out of the house to the neighbors, begging for help.

I should mention that the house next door is full of hockey players. And when I lock eyes on rough and rugged Brodie Stockhausen—who happens to be outside brooding on the porch—I’m not exactly impressed.

But I’m desperate, in a bathrobe, and need a bit of rescuing.

Soon I’m begging for his help with more than just squirrel duty and DIY projects. I want his attention and his touch—not just his friendship!

I want what every girl wants: him lying in his bed at night, so desperate for me that he’s willing to scale two stories to sneak into my window. Hey, a girl can dream…

But Brodie has a secret; one that leaves me wanting more every time we’re together but has him pulling away…

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER ONE

LIZZY

“We have what in our attic?”

“Squirrels.”

I stare blankly at one of my roommates. “So?”

“So,” Bethany deadpans. “I’m not staying here with squirrels running around the attic. What if one chews through the light fixture and falls into my room while I’m sleeping?” She shudders. “And what if it’s not squirrels. Do I want to be here to find out? No. It’s a no from me.”

There are squirrels all over campus. Obviously, they’re going to infiltrate the living quarters of those of us living in crappy, off-campus housing. Also, they’re cute. I don’t get weirded out by their presence like some of my girlfriends do—and I don’t agree they have beady little eyes.

My roommate swears they’re going to pounce or worse—attack—and won’t look in their direction. She says their little brown eyeballs bore into her soul when she sees one (or five or fifteen) when she’s walking to class.

“What’s your plan, then?” I stare at the small bookshelf in our living room, trying to decide on a book to read. It’s Friday night, but I have no desire to get cute and go out.

Plus, it’s cold.

“My plan?”

“Yeah. Your plan.”

“I’m going to stay with Jon until our freaking landlord gets pest control and removes them. I swear there’s an entire family up there. It’s probably raccoons.” She’s quiet for a few seconds while she worst-case scenarios all the horrible critters that could be living in our house. “Bats. Opossums. Rats.”

Another shudder.

“What’s Jill going to do?”

Bethany lets out a puff of air, moving to the kitchen.

“She’s going to her parents. Their lake house is like, forty minutes from campus and she doesn’t want her face eaten off, either. Her mom said they carry diseases, and Jill doesn’t want animal pox.”

I have no idea what that even is.

Does she mean rabies?

Ew.

“You’re being so dramatic about this.” Like so dramatic.

“You’re not being dramatic enough!” she announces theatrically. “You’re not staying in this house when there are rodents ready to revolt. You can’t.”

“I haven’t heard a single sound.” I shrug. “No animals.”

“That’s because you snore. If you were in my room, you’d hear it. The door for the crawl space is literally in my closet.”

That’s probably true that I snore, but I’m still not overly concerned.

“So what I hear you saying is that I’m going to be home alone for the next few days?” I hate being alone, which is the reason I have roommates. That and splitting the rent. “Why do I have to be here by myself?”

What if something is actually going to maim me?

“Go stay with Keesha or Marie. I told them we have an infestation and they offered to let me stay on their couch.”

We do not have an infestation. Is that what she’s telling her friends?

“I like them both but I’m not staying with your sorority sisters.”

It would be weird being there without Bethany, wouldn’t it?

“What about Danika and Michelle’s place?”

“Are you kidding me? They had a friggin bat in their living room last month, and Paul had to catch it with a lacrosse stick.” The words fly out of my mouth, and I immediately regret them, clamping my mouth shut to prevent more verbal diarrhea. Maybe I shouldn’t be reminding her when the subject of pests in our own attic is so sensitive.

“Then go next door.” Bethany is clearly frustrated with my rebuttal to all her suggestions—and rightly so. “The guys already offered to come over and handle it, but when I told the landlord, he said if anyone came over and went into the attic, it had to be a professional because if there was any damage, we’d have to pay for it.”

Of course he did.

“That guy is such an asshole,” I groan because our landlord is such an asshole.

We’re not sure what his deal is, but it takes him forever to respond to our messages. God forbid there’s an emergency, like a pipe bursting and water leaking through the ceilings around the lights. Once, the light fixture in our living room was crackling and buzzing, and we were afraid it would start an electrical fire. You’d think he would want to buzz right over and assess the situation? Protect his investment?

Did the man bother to call us back after we’d frantically left voicemail after voicemail?

Negative, ghost rider.

It took him days.

Why? Because!

He.

Is.

A.

Dick.

So. I’m not sure why he’d give a shit about the alleged critter in our attic, but if he’s going to handle it when he gets around to it and not a moment sooner.

I’ll believe it when I see it.

My bedroom is on the first floor, which could be a reason I haven’t so much as heard a peep from any unwanted houseguests—but that’s just a guess.

“Come on, Lizzy, let’s be honest,” Bethany laments. “Those morons next door would probably actually cause damage if they came here to fight squirrels, let alone more bats.”

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >94

Advertisement How to Score Off Field (Campus Legends #3) Read Online Sara Ney http://www.books2020.com/how-to-score-off-field-campus-legends-3-read-online-sara-ney Sat, 23 Sep 2023 20:10:41 +0000 https://www.booksnovels.com/how-to-score-off-field-campus-legends-3-read-online-sara-ney Genre: Alpha Male, College, Forbidden, New Adult, Sports Authors: Sara Ney Series: Campus Legends Series by Sara Ney
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 104766 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >103

I, Drew Colter, have a confession to make… I ’m burnt out and need a break.
From school, from football—from living with roommates, my obnoxious twin brother and our older brothers girlfriend. The only person who I can talk to these days is my best friend from high school, and he’s back in our hometown and halfway across the country. Somehow he convinces me that maybe…

…Maybe it’s time to take a trip. Party. Have some fun.

That fun does not include his sister .

Long black hair and even longer legs, Tess Donahue had lost the braces and gained the confidence she never had as a teenager. She’s hilarious, pretty—and when I see her in those cowboy boots?

Whoa.

Stolen glances. Flirty banter. One drunk filled night.

Suddenly, my uncomplicated weekend of ‘ living a little’ in my hometown becomes a lifetime being tied to the one girl that was off limits.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

PROLOGUE

TESS

I was eleven years old the first time I met the Colter twins.

My brother Grady had been signed up to play league football because our mom didn’t think he socialized enough, and she was sick of him sitting in his room, gaming all the time.

She wanted him to get exercise.

And meet people.

So that third week of football, she invited all the players over for a pizza party, and I remember the team arriving, one by one, getting dropped off by their parents for the two hours my mother had arranged—and I remember the Colters walking through the door.

Tall, even at the age of thirteen.

Tan from always being outside.

One was quiet and had braces; the other was talking and being loud as soon as he stepped foot in the kitchen where the pizza was being served.

I’d been on the other side of the room, hovering in the doorway where the laundry room was, too intimidated by all the teenage boys to grab a slice of my favorite—cheese, sausage, and pineapple. Mom had ordered it specifically for me, knowing most of the boys wouldn’t want pineapple on their pizza, but I was too chickenshit to steal a piece.

“Who’s that?” one of them asked. I can’t remember who.

Grady had looked in the direction of the kid’s finger, glancing at me over his shoulder.

“Oh. That’s my sister.”

Oh.

That’s my sister…

But I mean, I was his little sister, and I was kind of small at that age. And shy.

I remember that once they’d all lost interest in staring at me, and they’d gone back to devouring the pizzas, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the twins.

They were so cute.

Literally the cutest boys I’d ever seen in my entire life.

My face turned bright red as soon as the one in the gray tee shirt scanned the small group of boys and caught my eye in the corner, smiling after a few seconds of awkward staring.

I was too freaked out to smile back.

That had been Drew.

I found out his name later—the one with the braces—and lay in bed that whole night, staring up at my bedroom ceiling while saying it to myself. Drew.

Drew Colter.

I wondered what his middle name was.

He was the quiet Colter, who didn’t have much to say about anything unless asked. He usually let his louder, more obnoxious brother speak for them, as twins sometimes do.

And I watched number twenty-nine at every game of my brother’s that I went to, silently clapping when he blocked a play or took a hit and got back up on his feet without a scratch.

Drew Colter.

Sigh.

When I was fourteen, and we were all in high school, I prayed every day that I would bump into him in the hallway between classes. But we rarely did because freshmen and juniors didn’t have class on the same floors, and everything was separated by wings. Freshmen ate with freshmen, sophomores ate with sophomores, and on and on and on.

Then one day when I was eating lunch, there was a commotion at the front of the cafeteria near the vending machines, and a small group of football players walked in, wearing their home jerseys and carrying flyers.

Drew Colter was among them.

I knew it was him instantly. He didn’t have the same arrogance his brother Drake had, and he hung back from the group the way he usually did.

I watched as the boys walked around from table to table, handing out those flyers, smiling down at the pretty girls and flirting.

“Oh my god, they are so. Hot.”

My friends Charity, Bev, and Tosha stopped cackling about whatever story Charity had been sharing to stare, all of us holding our breath as the football players weaved in and out, like gods among us, for football was the only thing anyone in this town gave a shit about.

Three tables away.

Two.

“Hey, Tess.” Drew handed me a flyer with a smile, my name on his full, pouty lips, his white teeth peeking through.

I opened my mouth to reply, but they were already gone.

“Oh. My. God,” Charity said dramatically. “Drew. Colter. Said. Your. Name.”

I rolled my eyes, pretending to be unfazed. “I’m Grady’s sister. He has to be nice to me.”

My brother and Drew had become fast friends that night after the pizza party three years ago, spending most of their downtime running plays, hanging out in our basement, or at Drew’s house, swimming in his pool.

The Colters lived on a ranch, and their dad was never around, but it was a sprawling house with a massive pool that even had one of those slides you see at the water park—it even had a pool house with a kitchen full of snacks.

I’d only been there once when the Colters hosted a party. Mrs. Colter had wanted help, so Mom dragged me over as an extra set of hands.

I’d refused to take my tee shirt and shorts off to get in the pool.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >103

Advertisement How to Win the Girl (Campus Legends #2) Read Online Sara Ney http://www.books2020.com/how-to-win-the-girl-campus-legends-2-read-online-sara-ney Thu, 01 Jun 2023 11:54:34 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/how-to-win-the-girl-campus-legends-2-read-online-sara-ney Genre: College, Contemporary, Sports Authors: Sara Ney Series: Campus Legends Series by Sara Ney
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 104745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >101

I, Drake Colter, solemnly swear I do not want a girlfriend…

Carefree and ridiculously good-looking, I have the entire student body eating from the palm of my hand—shouldn’t I let the ladies on campus have their fill rather than being tied down? If only my brother Drew would take notes from my playbook. As identical twins, we share the same voice, the same face, and the same physique; it’s virtually impossible to tell us apart—but that’s where the similarities end.

Lately, my brother has been whining about wanting to settle down with. He longs for affection, companionship and all the bullshit that goes along with it blah blah blah. Problem is, he’s hopeless when it comes to dating. It’s seriously embarrassing to watch, considering we’re identical; everyone thinks I’m him and everyone thinks he’s me.

Luckily I’m not intimidated by women and have plenty of experience. I might not want to find myself a girlfriend, but that doesn’t mean I can’t help him. Dude never needs to know!

And that’s the very thing that lands me in trouble…

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

prologue

Drake Colter

I’m strong, cocky, motivated and I don’t put up with shit.

Think you can handle me?

“Would you please stop doing that?”

The girl in front of me is turned around in her desk chair and giving me the stink eye, gaze trained on the pen in my hand.

“Stop what?”

I’m not doing anything.

“Stop twirling that pen and clicking the top. It’s driving me nuts.”

“You mean this?” I give it another twirl between my fingers before letting it hit the hard surface of the lecture hall desktop, rolling my eyes at the back of her head when she huffs, once again facing the projector board in the front of the room.

Good lord.

Talk about uptight.

“Don’t sit here next time if you don’t like it,” I mutter loud enough for her to hear.

She turns around again. “Excuse me? I have a right to sit through a class without being distracted.” She looks me up and down. “Some of us are here to learn.”

Dude.

That’s so unfair—I’m here to learn, too. Mostly. It’s not my fault I have a hard time sitting still in class and even a harder time listening to what the professor up front is saying. Don’t get me wrong, I do my best to focus. If this was one of my football coaches lecturing, I’d be a captive audience.

I’d have half a clue what was going in front of the room. But this professor and her assistant keep yammering on and on about atoms and particles and why am I in this class to begin with? Science isn’t my major, Business Economics is.

I don’t know nothing about fission and neutrons nor do I care to. This class is a core requirement and one I couldn’t opt out of. I put off taking it two years in a row, so here I am, taking it as a junior.

Funsies.

I eyeball the chick eyeballing me.

“You don’t even know me.”

Her eyes narrow. “I know enough.”

She turns back around so I’m staring at the back of her head.

“You sure told me off,” I mutter again, this time infusing an irritated laugh ’cause she don’t know shit about who Drake Colter is.

Just because she’s seen my face around and knows who I am does not mean she knows a single thing about me.

Hell, for all I know she thinks I’m my brother, although if she did think I was Drew she may not be shooting me gamma-ray style glares meant to penetrate my soul.

See, I’m a twin, and people confuse us all the time, though, to me, our differences are obvious.

Where I am outgoing, Drew is more subdued.

Nice.

Where I speak my mind and say whatever, Drew carefully chooses his words.

His hair is dark; mine is dark.

He has freckles; I have freckles.

He’s tall; I’m tall.

He’s single; I’m single.

When I look in the mirror, I literally see my brother’s face. Like I said, we’re twins.

Identical twins.

Yeah, it can be aggravating, but it’s also really fucking cool being connected to another human the way I’m connected to Drew, our bond unbreakable.

I love that boring son of a bitch.

I’m just not sure I love being mistaken for him every now and again, same way I’m sure he hates being mistaken for me.

After the professor at the front of the class dismisses us early, I pack up my shit and hightail it out of there, not bothering to give the girl a second glance. She’s obviously not worth my time or the headache of an apology. Besides, it’s not a crime to twirl a fucking pen. Jeez, lady, chill.

Whistling to myself when my feet hit the concrete steps of the stairs outside of the building, I lift my gaze to the sky and drink in the fresh air.

“Ahhh.”

I stretch, arms above my head, and feel the air tickling my gut when the hem of my tee shirt raises.

Did I say gut? I meant rock-hard abs.

Where to now? Home?

The gym?

The world is my oyster now that the football season is over; I finally have free time on my hands and no obligation to do anything but work out, train, and stay in shape.

I pat my stomach, running a hand across the bare skin there as my eyes scan the courtyard, settling on a group of sorority girls gathered not twenty feet away.

“Well, hello, ladies.”

One by one, they notice me watching; all of them preen and fluff, each of them hopeful my eyes will land on them. Blond hair, black hair, brunette…tall, short…big boobs, flat chested…

So many flavors to choose from.

A lazy smile tilts my lips as I take my first lazy step down the stairs.

One of them gasps.

It’s good to be a legend on this campus, even if Miss Salty Pants back in class doesn’t appreciate the appeal.

Yes, it’s good to be a Colter.

Pretty damn good...

one

drake

Dating is like pushing your tray along in the school cafeteria. Nothing looks good but you feel pressure to put something on it by the time you make it to the cashier.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >101