検索キーワード： 著者 "Sara Ney" すべてのカテゴリー

I knew something was wrong the second she walked in the door tonight; I just couldn't put my finger on what it was. Same hair color. Same legs. Same face. Except...I look harder. At the small dimple beneath her lip that wasn't there the last time we went out. And her laugh - that laugh isn't as loud. This isn't the girl I've gone out with the past few weeks. It's her twin sister, and they've switched places on me.

My friends want me to get laid. So much so that they plastered my ugly mug all over campus in bold printed letters: Are you the lucky lady who's going to break our roommate's cherry? Him: Socially awkward man with average-sized penis looking for willing sexual partner. You: Must have a pulse. He will reciprocate with oral. Text him at: 555-254-5551. The morons can't even spell. And the texts I've been receiving are what wet dreams are made of. But I'm not like these douchebags, no matter how hard they try to turn me into one.

Zeke Daniels isn't just a douchebag; he's an asshole. A total and complete jerk, Zeke keeps people at a distance. He has no interest in relationships - most assholes don't. Dating? Being part of a couple? Nope. Not for him. He's never given any thought to what he wants in a girlfriend, because he's never had any intention of having one. Shit, he barely has a relationship with his family, and they're related; his own friends don't even like him. So why does he keep thinking about Violet DeLuca? Sweet, quiet Violet - his opposite in every sense of the word.

No doubt about it, Sebastian "Oz" Osborne is the university's most celebrated student athlete - and possibly the biggest douchebag. A walking, talking cliché, he has a filthy mouth, a fantastic body, and doesn't give a sh-t about what you or anyone else thinks. Jameson Clarke may be the university's most diligent student - but she is no prude. Spending most of her time in the hallowed halls of the library, James is wary of pervs, jocks, and douchebags - and Oz Osborne is all three. She's smart, sarcastic - and not what he expected....

There are no douchebags in this story. Well, there are, but they're not who this story is about. This story is about me - the coach's daughter. When I moved to Iowa to live with my dad, the university's take-no-prisoners wrestling coach, I thought transferring would be easy as pie - living with my father would be temporary, and he'd make sure his douchebag wrestlers left me alone. Wrong on both counts.

Abigail Darlington will never be "that" girl. You know the one: that girl on campus, confident in her own skin. Always saying the right things. Putting herself out there. Knows how to talk to a guy without stammering. Abby is fine being the wallflower in her circle of outgoing, beautiful friends; she would rather read about a sexy book boyfriend than actually have a live, breathing one. Star goaltender for the university's hockey team, Caleb is quiet and broody, preferring the solitude of his orderly, regimented life. He doesn't like or need people—and plans to keep it that way.

Trust me—if there's one thing I'm not attracted to, it's the shrieking, overly-dramatic shrew that's taken over my sister's apartment. And what is up with her hair? I know what I want; an easy, uncomplicated lay—and Cecelia Carter sure as shit isn't one. But I never could resist a challenge, and vow to wipe that condescending grin off her pretty face. Aw, shit. Did I just call her pretty?

Studious and sensible, the only thing Molly Wakefield wants to do is get through senior year and graduate. That, and hit the beach in her spare time. Maybe even read a book or two. And things are going great—until the day she catches Weston McGrath, handsome star athlete and scholar, spying on her in study hall. A tad creepy? Maybe. Thrilling? Absolutely. Why? Because Weston McGrath is one guy no one can get close to. Despite her efforts to avoid him, Molly and Weston form an unlikely friendship. But it's a friendship that comes with a price—because Weston cannot stop screwing up.

"Hard pass." That's what the last girl I slept with said when she got her first sober glimpse of me. She laughed, walked out of my penthouse - and I never saw her again. It doesn't matter that I'm a rich, professional athlete; what mattered was my face. Beauty might only be skin deep for some - but I know better. "Pay up." That's what the last girl I spoke to said over the phone when I made her an offer she couldn't refuse.

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.

Full disclosure: Before we move forward with this email, I would like it to be known that I have consumed an adequate amount of alcoholic beverages to intoxicate myself tonight. Three margaritas, two shots, and one beer - because it was free. I think it's important to be open and honest with your coworkers, don't you? So here I am, being open and honest. Drunk but honest. Or just drunk with lust? You decide. I have a hopeless, foolish, schoolgirl crush on you when you are the last person on earth I should be falling for. Did you know people around the office call you a sadist?

All I need is a place to hide for a few weeks. The paparazzi were on my case 24/7 and I needed a bit of breathing room—an escape from the madness—before the media frenzy begins. Sure, I could have gone to a secluded cabin in the woods—but I didn't want to be bored out of my mind. I'd seen enough wide open spaces as a kid from Texas to last me a lifetime. So instead, I let my sports agent hook me up with a modest house in the burbs where we didn't think anyone would find me hiding in plain sight.

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.

I, Dallas Colter, am kind of a massive A hole-and need help fixing that personality problem. With too much on my plate, the very last thing on my mind is a relationship-the football draft is looming, I never understood why my teammates bother with girlfriends. None of us had the time. When my sports agent suggests that being seen in public with a "respectable" girl would be good for my bad reputation, I couldn't think of a single person to help me out. The only girls I know aren't wifey material, and the ones who are? Might catch feelings. Except Ryann Winters.