A painfully awkward love story.
Incomprehensibly awkward Elizabeth Wilde is desperate for love. Connection. Intimacy. After a lifetime of romantic failures, the twenty-one-year-old gamer realizes she needs help. Professional help. She needs...
A sex tutor.
The devastatingly hot jock Austin Jacobs is just the man for the job. As the reigning campus sex god, he has the playboy act down pat. But underneath those six-pack abs beats a broken heart. He doesn't trust people and he sure as hell doesn't believe in love.
The odd couple strike a deal. Four weeks of ‘tutoring' for five thousand dollars.
When Austin coaxes Elizabeth out from behind her computer screen, the attraction they feel is undeniable. They're both a little broken, but somehow their jagged edges fit. And when their world comes tumbling down on top of them, they each have to decide if this weird thing called love is worth fighting for.
Reader advisory: This book includes references to inadequate parenting, parental death, a parent with addiction. There are also scenes including the use of performance drugs.
About the Author
Amelia Kingston is many things, the most interesting of which are probably California girl, writer, traveler, and dog mom. She survives on chocolate, coffee, wine, and sarcasm. Not necessarily in that order.
She’s been blessed with a patient husband who’s embraced her nomad ways and traveled with her to over 30 countries across 5 continents (I’m coming for you next, Antarctica!). She’s also been cursed with an impatient (although admittedly adorable) terrier who pouts when her dinner is 5 minutes late.
She writes about strong, stubborn, flawed women and the men who can't help but love them. Her irreverent books aim to be silly and fun with the occasional storm cloud to remind us to appreciate the sunny days. As a hopeless romantic, her favorite stories are the ones that remind us all that while love is rarely perfect, it’s always worth chasing.
Read an Excerpt
Copyright © Amelia Kingston 2019. All Rights Reserved, Totally Entwined Group Limited, T/A Totally Bound Publishing.
Outside the restaurant after dinner, Jeremy seems as shy as I am, toeing the pavement with his hands in his pockets. Okay, maybe not as shy. He can make eye contact without blushing. He’s the ‘oh, isn’t he sweet’ kind of shy, while I’m more the ‘oh, she has trouble functioning in society’ kind. He seems my speed. Slow. Three-legged turtle on a glacier slow. He’s nice too. Non-threatening. Safe.
Dinner was only mildly awkward, a raging success in the relative terms of my dating life. But it’s the end of the night and this is the part I hate.
What do we do now?
Shake hands? No, that’s weird.
“I had a good time tonight,” Jeremy chirps with an innocent smile on his lips. Meanwhile, my stomach is trying to turn itself inside out. Calm down, Elizabeth.
He’s far from my dream guy, being barely taller than me at all of five foot nothing. He can only be considered ‘in shape’ if you mean round. He’s never going to grace the cover of GQ, or even Wired. I don’t care. I want him—anyone—to sweep me off my feet. I want to feel something—anything— other than this paralyzing fear.
My palms are sweaty. My heart’s beating faster than if I’d run a marathon. My brain has unfortunately kicked into hyperdrive.
What if I have something stuck in my teeth?
What if my breath smells like onions?
What if my deodorant stopped working?
What if I’m a bad kisser?
What if I think he’s going in for a kiss, but he’s actually just going in for a hug and we do that awkward back-and-forth dance, resulting in knocking our heads together?
My stomach continues its acrobatics, tying itself into knots. I wrap my arms around myself, silently pleading for it to settle. I’m unaware of the pinched shape my face must’ve taken on when he asks with genuine concern, “Are you okay?”
I can’t tell him I’m freaking out, so I lie. Admittedly, not something I’m particularly good at.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I try to pull off a nonchalant shrug and say the first thing that pops into my head. “Just a little gassy. You know, Mexican food…”
You did NOT just say that!
Jeremy’s soft smile falls into a disgusted frown.
“Right,” he says. He eyes his car in the parking lot, undoubtedly eager to get away from my train wreck of a personality.
“I had a nice time, too,” I try to backpedal.
He gives me a forced smile. Now who looks gassy? This guy’s officially lost interest. Can’t say I blame him.
“Well, it’s getting pretty late.” He backs away with a wave, clearly avoiding any physical contact at this point. “Have a nice night, Elizabeth.”
“You too, Jeremy.” I return the awkward wave and make my way home, my head hanging in shame the whole way.
The second my front door shuts behind me, I beeline for my computer. I pull on my headset and stare at the video chat window, waiting for Jackie to answer. Jackie is my best—and only—friend. With bright red hair and a nose ring, she’s also my complete opposite. She’s a fierce and feisty woman, the human equivalent of a chihuahua. Small but bossy, Jackie is hellbent on conquering the world. So. Not. Me. I hate being noticed and try to fly under the radar. She loves being the center of attention and ends up bossing everyone around. I count on her for brutal, unabridged honesty.
“¿Qué pasa, chica? That’s Spanish for sup, girlie? Thought you could use a little culture in your life.” Jackie’s megawatt smile and flaming red locks light up my screen. The smile fades when she sees the defeat stamped across my face. Or, is it loser stamped on my forehead? Or, maybe twenty-one-year-old virgin?
“Hey, what’s with the sad face?” Her voice drags my brain away from contemplating facial tattoos to commemorate my failures and back to the real world.
“I had my date tonight with Jeremy.”
She stares at me blankly. “Who the fuck is Jeremy?”
“You know, CommanderUxorious?” His username finally sparks recognition in her eyes.
“Oooohhhh, that geekalicious noob you’ve been chatting with for…” She pauses, taking an overly dramatic deep breath before adding, “Fooooreeeeveeeer?”
“Shut up. It hasn’t been that long. Only six months.”
“That’s three times the life expectancy of one of my relationships. So, was he hot?”
I try to think of a nice way to describe Jeremy. “He’s kinda cute. In a hobbitish sort of way.”
“Hobbitish? What the fuck does that mean? Like hairy feet and a fetish for second breakfast?” Jackie asks with a chuckle.