Shaken by Charity Ferrell EPUB & PDF – eBook Details
- Author: Charity Ferrell
- Genre: New Adult & College Romance, Romance
- Publish Date: 22 September 2020
- Size: 1.8 MB
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Status: Avail for Download
- Price: Free
GEORGIA
CALL me the queen of embarrassing moments.
Tripping up the stairs and face-planting at my high school
graduation.
Side-swiping a car during my driver’s test.
Today’s embarrassment winner of the week is …
Drumroll, please.
Getting stood up for a date.
Even worse, while waiting on my date, the guy I’d dumped
six months ago arrived with his. Lucky asshole’s date actually
showed, and I provided them with free entertainment as they
witnessed my disaster.
It’s what you deserve for swiping right on a dude with a
mirror selfie as his profile pic, Georgia.
In my defense, it was margarita night, and I was thirdwheeling it when said swiping ensued.
To recover from the mortification, I drive to my happy
place—the coffee shop. Iced coffee never fails to pull me out
of the I’ll be single for the rest of my life funk.
“Jackpot.” I smile when I spot an empty space before
abruptly stopping. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Parked next to the only available spot is a car—foreign,
expensive, one of those you see in the movies with rich-people
problems.
Parked is an understatement.
I pull into the sliver of a space, and like the mature and
not-at-all-annoyed woman I am, I give the foreign-car-driving
asshole no room to open their door. With a shrug, I step out of
my car—American, cheap, one of those that always breaks
down in the movies—and stroll into the coffee shop.
Fifteen minutes later, I’m walking back through the
parking lot and fueling myself with cold-brew deliciousness.
My sipping stops when I notice a man standing behind my car.
Shoving my sunglasses down my nose, I take a better look.
“Siri, find me a tow company in the area.”
The hell?
I scramble toward him, waving my arm in the air, and
shriek, “Whoa! Don’t call a tow truck!”
Is that even legal?
Lord knows I can’t afford it if he does. I can barely afford
my iced-coffee dependency.
When he turns, my breathing stalls, and I freeze.
Momentarily, my car being towed becomes an afterthought.
The man is gorgeous.
GQ cover-worthy.
Looking every shade of pissed off.
The sight of him is stronger than any caffeine shot.
His sexy ruggedness—tall and built like a linebacker,
broad shoulders, and muscle-bound biceps—is such a contrast
to my small frame. Stubbled hair and scruff, trimmed to the
jawline, scatters along the slope of his cheeks and down his
neck. His hair, a shade matching the drink in my cup, is thick
and hits the nape of his neck.
He’s clean-cut but not clean-cut.
Fighting not to fit the profile of a wealthy man.
A man who gives no fucks … which unfortunately also
applies to his parking.
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