Twenty year old, Allison Slater has been in love with her brother’s bandmate, Rhys McGowan, since she was fifteen years old. But to him, she’ll always be Jake’s little sister and off limits. Now a college sophomore and licking her wounds from a bad breakup, she sets her sights on making Rhys see her as someone he could date…maybe even love. Her opportunity comes when Rhys visits his parents in Savannah where she is attending college. But the night she’s dreamed of turns to heart-break, and she realizes she’ll never be the one for Rhys.
For Rhys McGowan, his nightmare began when he woke up, naked and hung-over, next to his bandmate’s little sister. Unable to remember a thing from the previous night, he only makes matters worse by lying to Allison about not being interested in her. The truth is he’s spent the last year to ignore his body’s reaction whenever Allison is around. His resolve is tested when Allison comes on tour with Runaway Train, as both Jake and Abby’s nanny and to fulfill her fashion design internship. The more time he spends with her in the close quarters of the bus, the harder it is for him to resist.
Will Rhys realize that having a relationship with Allison is worth fighting for even if it means that he has to fight his best friend for a chance?
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About the Author:
Katie Ashley is a New York Times, USA Today, and Amazon Best-Selling author. She lives outside of Atlanta, Georgia with her two very spoiled dogs. She has a slight obsession with Pinterest, The Golden Girls, Harry Potter, Shakespeare, Supernatural, Designing Women, and Scooby-Doo.
With a BA in English, a BS in Secondary English Education, and a Masters in Adolescent English Education, she spent 11 1/2 years educating the Youth of America aka teaching MS and HS English until she left to write full time in December 2012.
She also writes Young Adult fiction under the name Krista Ashe.
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Pulling away, I stared into her face. “God you’re so fucking beautiful,” I murmured.
She fluttered her eyelashes prettily at me. “Do you really mean that?”
“I would say it was the tequila talking, but I think my wood would prove me wrong.”
As her arms came to encircle my neck, she pressed herself against me. “I don’t want it to be the tequila talking. I want it to be what you feel deep down inside.”
I stared into her eyes, which held such vulnerability. “You like me, don’t you?”
With a solemn expression, she nodded her head. “I always have, and I always will,” she whispered.
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