Yours Cruelly by Winter Renshaw EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Winter Renshaw
- Language: English
- Genre: New Adult & College Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Stassi
I’m not one to call people losers, but the guy slumped over the bar, giving
me sleepy-eyed come-hither looks over his beer? It’s not looking good for
him.
“You should go talk to him,” Madison, my roommate-slash-ride-or-die,
kicks me under the table. “He has this clueless Bambi thing going on. It’s
kind of endearing actually.”
“Did you forget to wear your contacts again?” The guy has serial-killer
eyes and a neck that rivals most giraffes. On top of that, his nostrils keep
flaring like two ever-expanding black holes. I’m two drinks in, but I’m not
that desperate. Not yet, anyway. “Maybe you should go talk to him.”
She considers my suggestion, sipping her strawberry basil mojito
through the stirrer straw. “I’m already dating Joe though.”
I give her a look. Two random meetups and a screw in the back of a
movie theater shouldn’t constitute dating in my book, but then again, what
do I know? I’m in a dry spell so arid it rivals the Sahara.
As if reading my mind, Mad says, “He’s better than Bryson.”
She’s not wrong.
My last blind date—the one I got by swiping right—wound up having
stale coffee breath I could smell from across the table every time he opened
his mouth. But that wasn’t the worst of it. Throughout our date, he insisted
on referring to himself in the third person. “Bryson Winward wants to order
calamari. Bryson Winward would love to escort you home.”
At first I thought he was trying to be funny … so I laughed.
Turns out, he wasn’t.
Before our appetizer had a chance to arrive, I faked an emergency
phone call and ordered an Uber faster than a person could say “mozzarella
sticks with extra marinara.”
Every one of my last few dates has come in a distant second place to a
book, a bubble bath, and a cold tub of Ben & Jerry’s AmeriCone Dream.
“I don’t know if I’m made for this dating scene anymore,” I say. “I
thought about looking into some convents.”
“Stassi.” Tenley, one of my oldest friends, offers me a sympathetic look
as she places her hand over mine. “You’ll find the right guy when you least
expect it. That’s how it always goes. Once you stop looking—bam. They
waltz into your life and you suddenly can’t remember life before them.”
Easy for her to say—Tenley resembles a Hadid sister, makes working at
an award-winning, high-pressure law firm look like a cakewalk. On top of
that, her problem is the opposite of mine. Every time she turns around, she’s
getting asked out by handsome strangers and turning them down because
she’s already married … to her job.
I glance at old Googly Eyes, who is now picking his teeth with his
fingernail.
“Anyway,” I say. “I didn’t come out to find a guy. I came to hang with
my best friends.”
Campbell, the only married one of our group, lifts a shoulder. “There’s
no unwritten rule that says you can’t do both.”
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