Title: Together
Author: Jennifer Van Wyk
Genre: Contemporary Romance, Small Town Romance, Surprise Pregnancy
Small town romance author Jennifer Van Wyk delivers an emotional surprise pregnancy romance coupled with her signature humor, swoony men, and sweet and sassy heroines.
I was really an idiot.
How I didn’t see the signs is beyond me… but yet here I sit, holding a diamond ring I tried to place on my girlfriend’s finger.
Hopefully the whiskey will do its trick and help me forget the last few years ever happened.
I’m such an idiot. Really, I am.
I thought my boyfriend was going to propose tonight. Instead, I’m sitting here chugging vodka cranberries like they’re water. I just want to forget the last few years ever happened.
One night.
That’s all I wanted.
To forget for one night.
So how did one night change my life forever?
I didn’t mean to be so careless, but I refuse to let my past affect this baby.
Now we need to step up… Together.
Together is a complete standalone romance that brings Jennifer’s seasoned readers back to a hometown they know well. Together can be read entirely by itself.
Goodreads
Read for free with Kindle Unlimited
Amazon | Amazon Worldwide
I wake up feeling like complete shit. My head hurts like I’ve actually been hit by a truck, there’s no way I won’t have the beer shits today, and there’s gotta be cement blocks on my feet weighing me down. It was all fun and games last night — literally — but this morning, I’m having regrets.
But not about the girl.
That was fun.
Spending the evening with her, forgetting and laughing and drinking and eating. Drinking a little more. The darts and singing and dancing. Drinking.
I groan.
Too.
Much.
Drinking.
Then a groan that matches mine but is far more feminine sounds next to me and I… oh, shit.
I’m naked.
Birthday suit naked.
Surely we didn’t…
God, if there was ever a time to give me whiskey dick, please let it be last night.
I can’t believe I just prayed for God to give me a malfunctioning dick… or that I said dick in my prayers. Or that I’m even praying about drunk sex. All so I didn’t have drunk sex with her. Not that I wouldn’t want to have sex with her, but as drunk as we were? No. No way. I’m better than that. Not that much of an asshole. Right?
Now I’m lying here overthinking my prayer while naked in my bed with Sally — or Ashley, as it turns out her name really is when we confessed to each other that we aren’t Harry or Sally — who I hope we didn’t have sex with only because I’m still drunk the next morning.
Fuck… I’m a mess.
Though, oddly enough, guilt isn’t one of the feelings bubbling to the surface right now.
Regret that I don’t remember much of it does, though. I just remember her falling asleep to the point where neither Roy or I could wake her up when we arrived at my house and after a few moments of both of us freaking out, I realized she was fine, just an incredibly sound sleeper. If the snoring was anything to go by, anyway.
Then she woke up abruptly when we got into the house, looked at me with wide eyes that could have only meant one thing, and so I quickly directed her to the guest bathroom so she could throw up the plethora of liquor she had consumed.
When she emerged she looked at me and said, “I’m sure this may come as a total shock, but my name is Ashley, not Sally.”
I mock gasped then grinned, told her my name is Nikolas but I go by Nik and she grinned back, then groaned, then we sat on the couch.
And, apparently, ended up getting naked and into my bed at some point. That’s where things get fuzzy.
“Did we have sex?” Ashley asks in a quiet voice next to me.
I don’t even lift my head to look over at her when I respond, “No clue.”
She shifts a little bit and winces. “We definitely had sex.”
No comments:
Post a Comment