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Bargain with the Bully: Beauty in the Breaking, #2
Bargain with the Bully: Beauty in the Breaking, #2
Bargain with the Bully: Beauty in the Breaking, #2
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Bargain with the Bully: Beauty in the Breaking, #2

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For four years, Jackson Hansen has done his best to make my life a living hell. Even when I finally agree that his brother is good for my best friend, Emma, he won't give me a break.

 

He mocks me, mortifies me, and worst of all…makes out with me in the backs of taxis when we've both had a few too many beers.

He's the last person I want as my plus one for a destination wedding.

 

If only I hadn't made that stupid bet or promised to be his sweet, obedient wedding date if Emma and Asher did end up getting hitched.

If only I didn't enjoy kissing him so much.

If only this wounded, jaded man wasn't the only person I can imagine punching my V-card.

 

If Jackson finds out I'm still a virgin, he'll never let me live it down.

Unless…

 

Maybe I can make another bargain with my bully, a sexy bargain he won't see coming until we're on a tropical island, sharing a room with one bed…

LanguageEnglish
Release dateDec 13, 2022
ISBN9798215750360
Bargain with the Bully: Beauty in the Breaking, #2

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    Book preview

    Bargain with the Bully - Felicity Raine

    Chapter One

    Jackson

    Four years ago…


    Fate can be a bitch.

    Take tonight, for example.

    I wasn’t planning to catch my girlfriend of three years in bed with another man the night before our anniversary trip to Austin. I wasn’t expecting to go to Austin alone to visit my brother, instead, or to be trapped at his dorm during a monster thunderstorm.

    And I certainly never imagined I’d end up in the middle of an impromptu 1980’s dance party in the building’s basement with a few hundred drunk college kids.

    At twenty-four, I’m officially too old for this shit.

    But to be fair, I was too old for this shit when I was their age. By twenty I’d already lost both my parents, been kicked out of my home on the commune, worked a full-time construction job for two years, and been awarded guardianship of my younger brother.

    I never had a party phase. I couldn’t afford to.

    I had too much responsibility resting on my shoulders.

    One drunken slip-up could have led to Asher ending up in foster care, and I refused to take that risk. I was all my then sixteen-year-old brother had, the only thing standing between him and even more misery. I’d sworn to my father on his death bed that I’d take care of the family once he was gone, and that’s not the kind of promise I take lightly.

    I will always take care of Asher, even now that he’s nineteen and away at college, studying to get his business management degree while playing baseball for the Longhorns.

    Somewhere deep in my DNA I’m programmed to watch out for my little bro. Maybe I act more like his dad than his sibling, but I don’t care. Protecting Asher isn’t an instinct I’m inclined to fight.

    So, when I hear his name sneered from a dark corner of the newly silent room—the DJ appears to be having trouble with his laptop—I immediately drift that way. But I keep my back turned to the shadowy section of the large basement, the better to convince whoever’s talking shit about Asher that I’m not listening in.

    I’m a stranger to most of these people, but I was introduced to a handful of Asher’s friends before the party started raging. There’s a slim chance that if someone sees my face, they’ll realize who I am. I’d rather hear what they have to say about my kid brother before that happens—and calmly explain why keeping their mouth shut would be their best bet moving forward.

    My brother worked his ass off this past summer to gain late admission to UT and finish the courses he needed to be able to juggle classwork and baseball practice. And now he’s working his ass off to get good grades his first semester while playing ball and keeping his first serious girlfriend happy.

    He’s done nothing worthy of being gossiped about and after years as the reject cult kid, he deserves a break from being the target of negative attention.

    No, I would never lie about something like that. Never, a high, feminine voice squeaks from the darkness. And why would you ask me to? I thought she was your friend.

    "She is my friend. She’s my best friend, a more familiar female voice replies. And that’s why I’m asking. You don’t know this guy the way I do, Stacey. Sure, he seems sweet and devoted to Emma now, but for years he was a complete asshole to her. Seriously, he treated her like shit. Like actual shit that he’d stepped in on the way into school and couldn’t get off his shoe fast enough."

    No, Stacey murmurs. I don’t believe it. They’re so happy together.

    It seems that way, the chick I can’t quite place says, making my thoughts race. Where the hell have I heard this girl’s voice before? But I’m not buying it. Once a bully, always a bully. If he was a good person deep down inside, he wouldn’t have been capable of treating a woman that way. Good guys don’t call girls names or physically intimidate them or sexually harass them. Back before they started dating, Asher used to pinch Emma’s ass in the hallway all the time. She’d jump like she’d been stung by an insect and run to the bathroom to hide until he went away. That’s what Asher Hansen is—a mean-spirited insect person. He doesn’t deserve Emma. She’s too sweet and forgiving to see it now, but eventually she’ll come to her senses and leave his ass.

    Stacey sniffs. Then what do you need me for?

    I need you because I don’t want my best friend to waste years of her life with a loser who isn’t worthy of her, the meddler says. I know lying about her boyfriend seems cruel, but it would honestly be the kindest thing anyone could do for her. All you’d have to do is approach her when she’s alone, tell her you’ve been sleeping with Asher, but that you didn’t know he had a girlfriend until a few days ago so now you’re going to stop. Just be really sweet and apologetic about it. She won’t be mad. At least not at you. That’s not the kind of person she is. Then, they’ll break up, Emma will get a fresh start without any old bully baggage weighing her down, and you get three hundred dollars. Everyone wins.

    Except my brother. I stroll into the shadows, pegging the brat trying to sabotage my brother’s love life as soon as my eyes adjust to the darkness. It’s Emma’s roommate, the punk girl with the aggressive eyeliner. Who the hell do you think you are, Laura?

    Oh my God, see? I knew this was a bad idea. I’m not a part of this, Stacey says to me, backing away with her arms raised in surrender. I just needed money to get my roots done because my mom cut off my allowance until I get my grades up. She glances back at Laura, adding, I’m not interested, okay? But um…see you around and good luck at roller derby tryouts, before turning and scurrying away.

    Laura, however, stands her ground, glaring up at me as the music starts up again, seeming to find the perky song with the bouncy, synthesized drumbeat as irritating as I do.

    Her clenched jaw muscles twitch. I think I’m Emma’s best friend. That’s who I think I am.

    At least I’m pretty sure that’s what she says. It’s too loud to hear her clearly.

    Narrowing my own eyes, I jerk my head toward the Exit a few feet away. After a beat and

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