|Revelação de Capa da autora Tijan! The Boy I Grew Up With será lançado em 29 de outubro.||Cover Reveal by Tijan. The Boy I Grew Up with will be released on October 29.|
I have loved Channing Monroe all my life.
In first grade, he asked for my Trapper Keeper.
I hit him in the head with it.
Third grade, we were best friends. We kissed in seventh grade.
Eighth grade, he turned into a bad boy and the rest was a tumultuous storm.
Growing up, the problem was never love for us.
Bad times. Good times. There were times when I felt our love in every inch of my body,
vibrating, making me feel like it could bring me back to life.
The problem was us.
The problem is that we’re from two different worlds now.
Fallen Crest and its millionaires for me. Roussou and their criminals for him. I was thriving in mine and he was running his.
But there were nights I felt we couldn’t be further apart than we were, and there were nights I felt we shared the same heartbeat.
When was it time?
When was it time to either sacrifice, make a change, or walk away from the boy I grew up with?
** 103k standalone
Tijan is doing a signed Crew paperback giveaway here!
Crew is leaving Kindle Unlimited first week of November.
Amazon will go LIVE on Oct 29th
Preorder links: https://www.books2read.com/u/3J8wRg
Reader group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/TijansFanPage/
“What are you doing here?”
His arms tightened a little around me, and his hand rubbed over my leg. I was buck naked
in his arms. I should’ve dressed, but I didn’t have the energy.
His breath felt good on my neck as he answered. “I was up with the guys. I missed you.”
Meaning: he’d either been fighting or drinking with the group of guys he considered
more family than family.
I lifted one of his hands to inspect the knuckles, rubbing a thumb over them. “They don’t
look bruised up.”
His body tensed, all six feet of pure muscle.
Channing had a face for the fashion runways, a body of tattoos that could appear in any
magazine, and an attitude that made him a leader among the rowdiest and most criminally
inclined. He was whip smart, ruthless, cunning, cocky, and had a charming side that had started
some of our fights. He could be too charming at times, putting his name on a lot of girls’ to-do
lists. It’d been a problem for us since we were kids, and though it’d gotten better over the last
few years, I knew women came onto him regularly.
But being transparent here, that wasn’t the cause of our problems lately.
His voice was quiet. “I wasn’t fighting.”
I turned and tried to smell his breath. There was a slight trace of bourbon, but that
might’ve been mine. “You don’t seem drunk either.”
He chuckled, his eyes studying every inch of my face. He did this when he was trying to
figure out where I was going with my statements and if that’d take us into a fight. We acted like
we were married and in our sixties