Read Online Hope Breaks: A New Adult Romantic Comedy by Alice Bello, Stephanie T. Lott - Free Book Online Page A

strode the rest of the way to my front door.
    “And when would that be?” I called after him.
    “I’ll call you.” And he walked out my door and into the Texas night.
    I leaned back into the couch and Susan Sarandon lamented that no one had ever said no to a date with her before.
    I let my head roll back into the cushions of my couch.
    “You’re lucky,” I said to her, “I get it all the time.”
     

Chapter 9
     
    I DIDN’T BELIEVE IN wasting food…so I polished off the rest of the pizza as the movie went on.  I just couldn’t get my mind around what had just happened… hell, what had been happening to me all day.
    I tried to shake it off, I needed to go to bed, get some sleep and get geared up for the photo shoot in the morning.
    But then there were the chocolate bars.  I saved the Hershey bars and started in on the Caramello.  It was delicious, but didn’t help.
    Eventually, I lost track of time, and the movie, and I found myself in a bathtub full of hot, silky water, and Jake was there too, beneath me.  “Sixty Minute Man” by the Dominos played, and Jake’s hands, his arms, his mouth, were everywhere.
    My back arched as he nuzzled his face into my breasts, and I felt him pushing hard and insistent up against my sex.  I was surprised that the water on my skin wasn’t steaming off, or that the tub of water wasn’t boiling.
    I woke to a blue-screened television and an all over sheen of sweat on my skin.  I was breathing hard, and my heart was racing in my chest.  But it all felt so damn good.
    I wasn’t used to having good dreams—sweet dreams. 
    What a surprise.
    I turned off the TV and headed up stairs to hopefully grab some more sleep… and maybe another dream.
     
    ***
     
    Showered and dressed in comfortable jeans and a t-shirt, I went into the room I used as a studio.  It was the biggest room in the house, and only had camera equipment, a table to hold it all, lights, a green screen, a couple straight back chairs and a couch.
    It also had a mini-fridge stocked with Diet Pepsi, water , and Reese’s Mini peanut butter cups—models almost never let you see them eat candy, but if it was small enough they might nibble it.  I’d also found out the hard way that a model with low blood sugar was almost useless.
    I was a little distracted, which wasn’t good, especially since I had a couple of new models coming to the house in another half hour.  This photo shoot might be my last chance at securing a proper cover for Olivia Lovelace’s new book.  I really needed to get that one done: a shot that was sexy and different, and everything Olivia wanted—so I could get Janine off my case and secure my job at her e-publishing house.
    No pressure… 
    I sat down on a chair in my kitchen and held my head for a beat.  I wasn’t so much dizzy as in need of coffee and some breakfast... and maybe a frontal lobotomy so I could keep my mind from wandering off on me.
    I could not get my thoughts to stay with my upcoming workday.
    No, what my mind kept flashing to, over and over, was that kiss last night with Jake.  It had been damn good… and brief and confusing, and I so, so, sooooooo wanted to do it again.
    I couldn’t wait for our next date.
    But when was that going to be again?
    Oh, yeah…
    “I’ll call you.”
    Bastard!
    I pulled myself up off my ass and started some coffee.  I was pulling a granola bar out of my cupboard when a sudden yearning for eggs and bacon overcame me.
    I looked at the granola bar and slid it back in its box, and then looked down at my belly.  It was pretty darn flat as bellies went. 
    Then the damn thing rumbled and grumbled like it was pitching its own earthquake.
    Eggs it was.
    I popped out another pan and started the bacon first.  Then I got out my tempered frying pan, a bowl for the eggs, a fork to scramble with, and a spatula.  I poured myself a cup of coffee, added the sugar and some cream, and took a slow, blissful first sip of the piping hot