Best Kind Of Broken is available in paperback now!! Previously, it's only been available in e-book, but I'm soooooo excited that you can now get it in actual book format too! I just ADORE Chelsea Fine and I love this series so much!
About Best Kind Of Broken:
SOMETIMES MOVING ON MEANS MOVING IN
Pixie Marshall wishes every day she could turn back time and fix the past. But she can't. And the damage is done. She's hoping that a summer of free room and board working with her aunt at the Willow Inn will help her forget. Except there's a problem: the resident handyman is none other than Levi Andrews. The handsome quarterback was once her friend-and maybe more-until everything changed in a life-shattering instant. She was hoping to avoid him, possibly forever. Now he's right down the hall and stirring up feelings Pixie thought she'd long buried . . .
Levi can't believe he's living with the one person who holds all his painful memories. More than anything he wants to make things right, but a simple "sorry" won't suffice-not when the tragedy that scarred them was his fault. Levi knows Pixie's better off without him, but every part of him screams to touch her, protect her, wrap her in his arms, and kiss away the pain. Yet even though she's so close, Pixie's heart seems more unreachable than ever. Seeing those stunning green eyes again has made one thing perfectly clear-he can't live without her.
*Previously reviewed HERE on Feb. 23, 2014*
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“So,” Jenna says casually as she goes back to lining her eyes. “How’s the sex thing going with Matt?”
“It’s not,” I say.
She scrunches her nose. “Was your first time really so bad?”
My sexual experience is limited to a one-time disaster with a guy named Benji Barker—that was his name, I kid you not—and it was drunk and sloppy and just…bleh.
I always thought losing my virginity would be a memorable event with fireworks and theme music and maybe a parade afterward. But no. It was more like, hey, so thanks for the horribly awkward sex. Let’s never speak again.
“No,” I say, searching the depths of the black hole that is my makeup bag for my mascara. “I mean, it was uncomfortable as hell, but it wasn’t bad. I just haven’t been able to get into it with Matt yet. Or the guy before him. Or the guy before that guy.” I tried dating a few guys this past school year, before I met Matt, but none of them really did it for me. I shrug again. “Maybe I’m a lesbian.”
My fingers finally wrap around a tube of mascara and I pull it out in triumph.
Jenna rolls her eyes. “You’re not a lesbian—”
“Pixie!” calls someone from the hallway.
I haven’t heard his voice for three days and all my senses immediately go on alert. My eyes snap to the mirror just as his reflection enters in the bathroom doorway and my heart stammers at the sight.
He’s wearing dark jeans and an untucked shirt that fits his frame perfectly. The top two buttons of his shirt are undone, showing off the tan skin of his thick throat, and I suddenly sympathize with vampires everywhere. Who wouldn’t want to take a bite out of that?
Where did that thought come from?
“Hey, Pixie. Ellen wanted me too…” Levi’s words trail off as his gaze runs down my body and lingers on my butt. Desire flashes in his eyes and my insides start to heat and tighten in response.
Our eyes lock in the mirror.
Am I blushing? Crap, I’m blushing.
He clears his throat and starts again. “Ellen wanted me to give these to you. She says you lost your own set? These are her backups.” He lays a set of inn keys on the counter by my hip, his hand so close to my belly I can feel his body heat seeping in through my leather skirt.
I nod. I swallow. I try not to pass out.
Or you know, bite him.
“Oh, right. Thanks,” I say, my voice all ragged like I just finished running a marathon or something. I’m so cool.
“I’m Jenna,” Jenna says loudly, holding out her hand.
Levi and I blink away from each other and he raises his eyebrows like he hadn’t noticed Jenna until right that second.
“Oh, hey,” he says in his smooth-operator voice. He has many voices. “I’m Levi.”
“Levi,” she repeats with a Cheshire grin as they shake hands. “It’s very nice to meet you.”
I glare at her but she refuses to acknowledge me.
“Right.” He glances at me. “Good to meet you, too.” He pauses. “So yeah. Later.” Then he rigidly moves from the bathroom mirror.
I stare at the empty hallway that replaces him, suddenly feeling empty myself.
About Chelsea Fine:
Chelsea lives in Phoenix, Arizona, where she spends most of her time writing stories, painting murals, and avoiding housework at all costs. She's ridiculously bad at doing dishes and claims to be allergic to laundry. Her obsessions include: superheroes, coffee, sleeping-in, and crazy socks. She lives with her husband and two children, who graciously tolerate her inability to resist teenage drama on TV and her complete lack of skill in the kitchen.