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Just a Little
Flirt
Crush # 2
Crush # 2
By: Renita Pizzitola
Releasing March 31, 2015
Loveswept
Saying yes has always come easy for Fallon. Now, as
Renita Pizzitola’s steamy, poignant Crush series continues, winning her dream
job means saying no to the guy she wants the most.
Between all the parties and random hook-ups, Fallon
Carr is this close to flunking out of college. But her internship working with
pediatric patients means the world to her—especially since, at the end of the
summer, one lucky intern will be offered a paid position. Determined to leave
her bad reputation behind, Fallon even takes a bet that she won’t sleep with
anyone from work. But there’s one little catch. . . .
Not only is Cade Ryan the hottest guy Fallon has
ever laid eyes on, he’s a therapy dog handler who volunteers his time to visit
kids at the hospital. So when he starts pursuing her, Fallon can’t believe her
bad timing. The thing is, Cade is different. He’s not like the college guys who
see her as a one-night stand, or the high-school boyfriend who took a part of
her she can never get back. Cade genuinely wants to spend time with her—and not
just between the sheets.
Fallon won’t let her growing feelings for Cade get
in the way of her dreams. Besides, no guy can break down the walls she put up
long ago. So what’s the harm in a little flirting? It’s not like she’s falling
in love. But she may have seriously underestimated how complicated things can
get when the perfect guy falls for her first.
The
parking at my new apartment complex was always a nightmare. It was impossible
to get a place remotely near my building, but being that today was not really
going my way, it was no surprise that I landed the most craptastic spot next to
the Dumpster. And the sweltering Central Texas summer only accentuated the
horribleness.
I
grabbed my purse and hurried past the large metal box of rotting trash. When I
hit the sidewalk, I exhaled and headed toward building seven.
“Hey.”
A male voice stopped me.
I
glanced around and saw a familiar face. One who had apparently benefited from
tequila consumption. We’d hooked up two weeks ago after a night of drinking,
but his name escaped me. The unremarkable sex hadn’t helped. I chose to forget
most guys. He was no different.
I
smiled and waved. “Hey.” Vague memories from the night we hooked up surfaced. I
really needed to stop carrying flasks and stick to the free beer at frat
parties. Tequila made all my bad decisions seem brilliant. And if memory
served, I might have given this guy some sort of drunken lap dance.
“You
live here?” He raised an eyebrow and gestured to the nearest building.
It
didn’t go unnoticed that he hadn’t used my name either. Guess I wasn’t the only
one who found our night together mediocre.
I
nodded. “Yeah. My roommate and I just moved in a week ago.”
“Oh.”
His face brightened; no doubt his mind had wandered to a built-in fuckbuddy situation.
“Cool. Which building?”
“That
one.” I pointed in the general direction of building seven. “Well, I have to
run, but nice seeing you.”
“Yeah.
I’ll see you around.”
I
groaned internally. “See ya.”
He
remained rooted in place as I walked away, so I slipped between buildings five
and six, deciding to hit my apartment from the other side, just in case he had
any plans of accidentally bumping into me again.
As
I made my way to my apartment, my phone rang.
“Hey,
Dad.”
“Hey,
Fallon.” Dad used his serious voice, causing me to pause. “So, we got your
grades in.”
“They
send those to you?” I cringed. Way to be obvious.
“They
send the bill here, might as well send the grades too, don’t you think?”
Stupid.
“Yeah. Of course. That’s not how I meant it. I just didn’t know . . .”
“That
I’d see you’re on the brink of academic probation.”
Fuck.
“Yeah.”
“What’s
going on, Fallon?” He still wasn’t being his usual lighthearted self but his
tone was now laced with true concern and genuine worry. “You didn’t work hard
in high school to blow it in college. You’re better than these grades. Is there
anything you want to talk about?”
Hmm,
should we discuss my decision to party instead of study . . . probably not.
“College is hard.”
“It
is. But there’s always tutoring and other campus resources to help you. I know
I’m pretty ancient in your mind, but you are
attending my alma mater, things haven’t changed that much over the years. In
fact, they’ve probably only gotten better. It’s a great campus. They have the
resources to help you.”
“I
know, Dad. It’s just been an adjustment.” I leaned against the wall and sighed.
“I’m going to do better.”
“To
tell you the truth, I didn’t do too hot my freshman year of college either.
With no one looking over your shoulder, it’s easy to let your work slide. But
high school was just prep for college. This is the real deal. This is the
beginning of the rest of your life.”
Well,
shit, when he put it that way . . . “I’m sorry.”
“Hey,
don’t apologize to me. This is your life. But I don’t want to see you fail out
of college. You can always come home. Heck, I miss having you around and I
worry about you being so far from home. I wouldn’t really mind. But I don’t
think that’s what you truly want,” he said.
God, no. That was the last thing I wanted.
Renita Pizzitola is the author of
New Adult contemporary romance and Young Adult fantasy. When not writing, she
can be found feeding her caramel macchiato addiction and reading just about
anything she can get her hands on. She lives in Austin, Texas, with her husband
and two children.
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