Over the past year, I’ve been called a lot of things. Slacker. Troublemaker. Party animal.
I thought I was on top of the world. Turns out, I was pretty close to rock bottom.
Now I have a new title: college dropout.
Talk about a reality check.
But I’ve got a chance to redeem myself. One summer to turn things around. Two months to prove I’m not a complete f*ck-up.
It’s time to change.
I want to get back to being one of the good guys.
I have everything I need to live out my dream of being a reclusive songwriter—my guitar, my notebook, and blissful silence.
At least, I did until Jimmy moved in next door.
With tattoos, piercings, and mischievous green eyes, he’s got bad news written all over him. And last time I got with a bad boy, it ended horribly.
Jimmy makes me feel things I shouldn’t feel. Want things I shouldn’t want. He’s a hazard to my carefully laid plans.
But he’s only here for two months.
I can resist him...right?
*Although DROPOUT is part of a series, it can be enjoyed as a standalone.
Jimmy Buffet’s ‘Cheeseburger in Paradise’ blared through the house, and I followed the music to the kitchen. I wasn’t sure what I would find, but as long as it wasn’t my neighbor making out with her neighbor I was good.
Turning the corner, I stopped dead in my tracks at the sight in front of me.
It wasn’t Beverly. Or Ernie.
And I most definitely wasn’t good.
A guy wearing nothing but camo-print underwear and a peach-colored apron stood in front of the stove. He was facing away from me, and I caught sight of a large tattoo—angel wings—across the expanse of his muscular back.
Surprised, I let out a high-pitched squeak. The sound got the stranger’s attention and he started to pivot in my direction.
My eyes fell to his sculpted ass, the muscles flexing as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He wore briefs. Not boxers or boxer-briefs—actual tighties. No guy should look good in those, but damn, he did.
His black hair was shorter on the sides and longer on top. Some of the inky strands fell over his forehead, falling to just above his bright green eyes.
His lips were parted in surprise, and something flipped in my stomach at the sight of his mouth. The bottom lip was twice the size of the top. Plump. Pouty.
Dark tattoos painted his chest and he had colorful flowers down the length of his left arm. And…
Is that a nipple piercing?
Because of the apron, I couldn’t see his abs, but my guess was that he had a solid six-pack under there.
I opened my mouth to say something—anything.
I wanted to ask him what he was doing in Beverly’s house. Or apologize for walking in on him while he was naked.
Instead, my social awkwardness presented itself full-force with the words that tumbled out of my mouth next.
“If you tried to hide in the woods, at least no one would be able to see your ass.”
His emerald eyes widened. “What?”
Figuring he probably didn’t hear me the first time because of the loud music, I raised my voice. “Camouflage underwear. Your butt would totally blend in with the bushes.”
Looking like he was caught between laughing and being outraged, he opened his mouth to respond.
Then all hell broke loose.
Jamie Schlosser grew up on a farm in Illinois surrounded by cornfields. Although she no longer lives in the country, her dream is to return to rural living someday. As a stay-at-home mom, she spends most of her days running back and forth between her two wonderful kids and her laptop. She loves her family, iced coffee, and happily ever afters.
TRUCKER by Jamie Schlosser
A Standalone Novel
Series: The Good Guys Book 1
Genre: New Adult Romance
— SYNOPSIS —
I know what you're whispering in the car as you pass me by.
When you see me walking along the side of the road with my thumb out, you'll probably keep driving without giving me a second glance. You probably think I'm foolish. Naïve.
You might assume I've made some bad decisions.
You might think I'm too young to be on my own.
You might be right.
I love my job, but driving an eighteen-wheeler comes with a certain stereotype. When you hear I’m a trucker, a specific image might come to mind. Uneducated. Dirty. Perverted. Rough around the edges and a little bit dangerous.
But the truth is, I’m not any of those things. In fact, I’m pretty far from it.
You’d be surprised to find out I’m one of the good guys.
ADD TRUCKER TO YOUR TBR ON GOODREADS!
— PURCHASE --
— EXCERPT --
I’d only been driving for about a mile when I saw someone walking along the side of the road in the distance.
As I got closer I saw the backpack and blonde hair. She turned toward my semi before sticking her thumb out.
“Shit,” I whispered, recognizing her right away. Even from a distance, I could see the hopeful expression on her face, and I felt something twist in my chest.
What the hell did she think she was doing? Hitchhiking was dangerous.
For a split second, I thought about not stopping. I could just keep on driving and forget I ever saw her.
But just as fast, all the possible scenarios played out in my mind. All the things that could happen to her. All the sick, depraved people who could be the ones to pull over and lure her into their vehicle with the promise of a safe ride.
I’d never picked up a hitchhiker before.
Had never planned on it.
But there was no way I could leave this girl out there on her own.
— CONNECT WITH THE AUTHOR --