JUST A LITTLE FLIRT – On sale March 31, 2015
About the book –
Saying yes has always come easy for Fallon. Now, as Renita Pizzitola’s steamy, poignant Crush series continues, winning her dream job means saying no to the guy she wants the most.
Between all the parties and random hook-ups, Fallon Carr is this close to flunking out of college. But her internship working with pediatric patients means the world to her—especially since, at the end of the summer, one lucky intern will be offered a paid position. Determined to leave her bad reputation behind, Fallon even takes a bet that she won’t sleep with anyone from work. But there’s one little catch. . . .
Not only is Cade Ryan the hottest guy Fallon has ever laid eyes on, he’s a therapy dog handler who volunteers his time to visit kids at the hospital. So when he starts pursuing her, Fallon can’t believe her bad timing. The thing is, Cade is different. He’s not like the college guys who see her as a one-night stand, or the high-school boyfriend who took a part of her she can never get back. Cade genuinely wants to spend time with her—and not just between the sheets.
Fallon won’t let her growing feelings for Cade get in the way of her dreams. Besides, no guy can break down the walls she put up long ago. So what’s the harm in a little flirting? It’s not like she’s falling in love. But she may have seriously underestimated how complicated things can get when the perfect guy falls for her first.
A guy’s voice echoed around the corner.
I made the last turn and stepped right to avoid him. With his phone pressed to his ear, he didn’t seem to notice me. He spoke animatedly, either excited or mad, but as I slipped past he threw his arm out to the side. And I ran smack into it.
My body buckled as my gut took a direct blow into one solid freaking—and might I add, impressive—forearm.
“Shit,” he murmured, lowering his phone. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” His eyes were huge as they assessed me for damage. Nice eyes too. Dark blue. Like indigo, which contrasted nicely with his honey-blond hair.
Unfortunately, the wind had been knocked out of me, so all I managed was a nod and a super-attractive choking gasp.
He pressed his phone to his ear. “I’ll call you right back.” He slid it into his pocket and reached out to me. “I didn’t see you. God, I’m so sorry.”
I finally managed a response. “It’s fine. I was rushing and not paying attention.” Which was a lie, but I just wanted to run. This guy was hot and I was a sweating, heaving mess.
Once I was steady on my feet, he pulled his hand back and studied me, his gaze flicking from my mouth to my eyes to my hair, back to my mouth.
I suppressed an eye roll. It might seem like he was ensuring I was okay, but I’d had enough interest from guys to know when one was checking me out, evaluating his probability to score. They always seemed to like their odds. Rightfully so.
If I were on campus or at a club, I would have flirted back, seeing as he was an attractive guy, but I was here for work. So instead, my defenses sprang to life. I couldn’t let my reputation around campus make it into this hospital, not even for Mr. Sexy Arms.
His gaze lowered even further, fixating on my chest.
What little patience I had vanished. “Like what you see?”
His eyes popped up and he stared at me. His face reddened. “I, uh. God, no.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“I mean, not like that. I—”
“Whatever. I’m going to be late.” I spun away.
“It’s just your shirt . . .”
Yeah, yeah. My shirt. Even dressed professionally, it didn’t seem to hide the fact a body resided under it. Putting my hand on the heavy metal door, I shoved it open.
He murmured another quiet curse then called out, “You lost a button or something.”
Now that I hadn’t expected.
I glanced down. Sure enough, my shirt had split open, revealing my bra and a bit of stomach.
Dammit. The button was gone. Probably lying on the ground near Sexy Arms, but I couldn’t go back and look for it after making an ass out of myself. I shoved open the door and stepped onto the third floor. Gripping my shirt closed, I searched for a bathroom. Thankfully, one was nearby.
With my head tucked down, I slipped inside then stood in front of a mirror to survey the damage. The midsection of my shirt was completely splayed open.
This wasn’t happening. Not today.
I dug through my purse as if a safety pin would magically appear. Considering my lack of preparation for basically everything, who knew why I thought I’d find one?
Okay. Deep breath. I could figure this out.
About the author –
Renita Pizzitola is the author of New Adult contemporary romance and Young Adult fantasy. When not writing, she can be found feeding her caramel macchiato addiction and reading just about anything she can get her hands on. She lives in Austin, Texas, with her husband and two children.
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