Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71303 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71303 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
As a single mom, I live by one rule: no unnecessary chaos. So when I move next door to not one but two ridiculously hot men who earn a very good income by being professionally shirtless on the internet, I’m in trouble.
Cam Walker is the walking definition of “too much.” Too confident, too charismatic, and way too willing to stroll around in just a towel like he’s allergic to clothes. Women basically camp outside his house, hoping for a glimpse of those world-famous pecs.
Wyatt Wilson is his best friend, his partner-in-thirst-trapping, and somehow even harder to resist. He’s got this low-key, sarcastic charm that makes me laugh even when I’m having a bad day, and a protective streak that turns my insides to goo.
I know better than to get involved with men who don’t fit into the calm, stable future I want for myself and my six-year-old daughter. So when the studly content-creating duo come on strong, flattering me like I’m one of their panty-waving followers, I should sprint in the other direction.
I have one job: avoid them at all costs. But then comes the flirting, the late-night run-ins, and kisses that I swear are definitely a mistake. Spoiler alert: they aren’t.
I should never have kissed my neighbors, but now I’m in over my head with two dangerously attractive men who seem determined to convince me I need a little chaos in my life. Sure, I could pack up and move...but that would mean leaving behind their delicious abs, a houseful of hilariously awkward moments, and the best kisses of my life.
I know I’m playing with fire here. But honestly, when the flames are this hot, is it really so bad to get burned?
Warning: This romantic comedy features questionable life choices, scandalously low shirt-buttoning habits, and two neighbors who are way too good at talking their way out of trouble—and into your heart
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
CHAPTER 1
WYATT
“Incoming!”
I drop the box I’m holding and leap to my left just in time to catch the white blob in my mouth. It takes a beat to chew and swallow before I can speak. “We need to save those for tomorrow.”
“We have plenty.” Cam pops one into his own mouth, then another, his cheeks bulging momentarily. “Mmm, it’s been a long time since I’ve had a marshmallow. I used to eat bags of these when I was a kid.”
“They are good. Toss me another.”
He lobs it higher and farther this time, and I have to jog backwards to line up my catch, but I nail it, sinking my teeth into the sugary mass. While I chew, I pick up the box I dropped, pry it open and slide out the colorful blaster.
Cam leans in to get a better look. “Sweet, that one takes mini marshmallows. It’ll hold a lot in those double cylinders.”
“I think the ones we modified are going to perform better, though.”
“We’ll see. We have plenty of options.” He lays a plastic crossbow in the grass next to the others. “Are we about ready? We should get this done while the light’s still good.”
“Just one more to unpack. Oh, and those PVC pipe air models.”
“Cool, I’ll get the camera while you put those out.”
Cam’s wearing a t-shirt when he goes into the house, but it’s gone when he returns. Right before we start, he eyes my casual button-down. “You should open up your shirt, or take it off entirely.”
Annoyed, I shake my head and let out a huff. “Is that really necessary? This is just an intro about the equipment.”
“We gotta give the fans what they want. At least undo a few buttons.”
With a resigned sigh, I undo all the buttons and shrug out of the shirt, because I don’t want to hear Cam fuss about angles and visibility while we film. I’m just a piece of meat, tossed out to feed our followers on a daily basis.
I should be used to this by now, and I’m glad my workouts pay off—literally—but I can’t seem to shake my discomfort at thousands upon thousands of random people ogling my body and telling us exactly what they think about it.
It was flattering at first, but I’m long past that.
Cam records me discussing the highlights of the various marshmallow weapons—only reminding me once, with a not-so-subtle gesture at his own arms, to flex my biceps—and then we switch places. He goes through the devices much like I did, and tomorrow, our editor will be here to splice the footage, putting together the best takes.
We take care of easy shoots like this one, but tomorrow a videographer will be here to capture the marshmallow battle in all its glory.
“That’s a wrap. Let’s get this stuff cleaned up.” Cam scoops a handful of mini marshmallows from the bag and shovels them into his mouth before putting the camera back in its case.