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stop on Second Chance Boyfriend blog tour for Monica Murphy. This tour is
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**Recommended
for ages 17+ due to sexual content and language, mature subject matter**
New Adult Contemporary
Lost. That one single word best describes my life at this very moment. I lost the last games of the season and both my team and my coach blame me. I lost the last two months because I drowned in my own despair like a complete loser. And I lost the only girl who ever mattered because I was afraid being with me would destroy her.
But now I realize how truly lost I am without her. She has become my story…and even though she acts like she’s moved on, I know she still thinks about me just as much as I think about her. She’s beautiful, sweet—and so damn vulnerable, all I want to do is help her. Be there for her.
Love her…
If only I could convince Fable to give me a second chance. Then I wouldn’t feel so lost anymore, and neither would she. We could be found together.Forever.
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Excerpt
“I can’t do this, Drew. I can’t
pretend like seeing you after so long is no big deal when really my heart is
cracking in two.” A laugh escapes her, though it lacks humor. “I think it’s
best if we stay away from each other. Having you in front of me hurts too much.”
My heart bottoms out. Completely. I
can’t even believe she’s saying this. Fighting the panic that threatens to
sweep me under, I step closer to her. “Fable…”
She steps back, looking scared, as
if she has nowhere to go, and that makes me feel like shit. “You should go.”
I take another step toward her, and
she takes another one back, bumping against the wall behind her. She’s trapped,
she knows it, and all I can think is thank God she can’t run away from me. “You
don’t want me to leave.”
“Yes, I do.” She nods, her
expression firm, but her voice is weak.
I move in so close I invade her
personal space. Her warmth, her scent wraps around me, intoxicating me, and I
brace my hands on the wall above her head, my arms bracketing her. I’ve got her
completely caged in, and as I gaze down at her pretty, angry upturned face, all
I can think is how much I want to kiss her and smudge that bright red lipstick
all to hell. “How late do you work?” I ask, my voice low, my thoughts…dirty. I
want to get her home. Naked. In my bed. Impossible considering how I’ve ruined
this fragile thing between us, but I have hopes I can turn everything around.
The trembling in her body is a clue
she’s not over me. The way she’s looking at me with all that pent-up longing in
her gaze tells me I still have a chance too.
“Too late to meet with you after.”
Reaching out, she pushes at my chest, her slender hands resting on my front,
and I hiss in a breath as if she’s burned me.
But shit. It feels like she has.
Having her hands on me again after so long, it’s like she’s branding me. Making
her claim with just a touch.
She has no idea I’ve belonged to
only her for months.
Without thought I lean in, my lips
going for hers, but she turns her head at the last second and I end up kissing
her cheek instead. She’s quivering, little shuddering breaths escape from her
parted lips, and I close my eyes, desperate to calm the pounding of my heart as
I nuzzle the side of her face. “I really fucked up, didn’t I?” I whisper
against her skin.
Fable nods, draws in a deep breath
as her hands drop away from my chest. “You did.”
“Tell me what I can do to make it up
to you.” I need to know. I can’t let her think this is over between us.
She still keeps her face averted, as
if she’s afraid to look me in the eyes. “It’s too late. There’s nothing you can
do. It’s o—over between us.”
I remove my hand from the wall to
cup her cheek, forcing her to look at me. Those big, scared eyes meet mine and
for a moment I’m lost. Like we’re back in time and at my parents’ guesthouse
when we were about to embark on something big. Something serious. I had this
girl in the palm of my hand and she had me. But I was such a chickenshit, I let
her slip right out of my grip and now look at her.
She’s…different. Her entire life has
changed in a matter of weeks. And I had nothing to do with it. She’s moved on
while I’m still stuck.
The realization is staggering.
About the Author
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Monica Murphy is a native Californian who lives in the foothills below Yosemite. A wife and mother of three, she writes New Adult and contemporary romance for Bantam and Avon. She is the author of One Week Girlfriend and Second Chance Boyfriend.
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