Being Brooke by Emma Hart is a new Rom Com is NOW LIVE! Click here to get your $0.99 copy)
Being Brooke is tough. She's in love with her best friend, a college drop - out and has an amazing sense of humor about her inadequacies. We are thrilled to offer you an EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT of this hilarious upcoming release, where you find out what happens when Brooke wakes up next to her BFF, who is incredibly happy to see her (if you know what I mean) he-he.
Being Brooke is tough. She's in love with her best friend, a college drop - out and has an amazing sense of humor about her inadequacies. We are thrilled to offer you an EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT of this hilarious upcoming release, where you find out what happens when Brooke wakes up next to her BFF, who is incredibly happy to see her (if you know what I mean) he-he.
Excerpt
My alarm blares out of my phone on the nightstand, rousing me fully from my awkward half-sleep state.
There’s a person on top of me.
Well, not on top of me. Behind me. Against me. With an arm on top of me. And a foot.
Oh my god, Cain!
I freeze. His arm and foot aren’t the only things invading my personal space.
Holy shit. Someone radio Houston because we have a problem. A big problem. And it’s poking into my lower back right now.
What do I do? Do I get up and pretend I didn’t feel it? Do I lie here and pretend—no, I can’t pretend to be asleep. I just turned off my annoying alarm. What if he heard it?
Oh god, is he awake too? Is he wondering what I’m going to do? Is he pretending he’s asleep and waiting for me to move?
Dear god, they don’t show you this in the movies! Or the books. Two hundred books on my Kindle and of the ones I’ve read, none of them show you what to do when you wake up with your best friend’s hard cock pressing against your back.
It’s bigger than I thought it’d be.
Jesus, self! It’s not a fucking birthday cake! Nor should I be contemplating the size of Cain’s cock.
Now I am though, aren’t I? Yep.
How much of it is touching me? Wait, how long is an inch? Can I figure out exactly how long it is right now? An inch is like half a thumb, right?
What the hell is wrong with me?
It’s a good seven inches. For sure. Maybe more.
Shit my life!
“Brooke?” Cain says from behind me. “You can relax. I’m not going to whip my cock out and hit you with it.”
“Oh my god!” I shove the sheets back and jump out of the bed. My cheeks are flaming, and I wrap my arms around my midsection as I turn to face him. “You knew I was awake and you lay there anyway?”
He grins, propping himself up on his elbow. “I was going to move, but then you froze, and I couldn’t resist messing with you.”
I give him my hardest glare. “You’re such an asshole! And you violated the towel!”
He collapses onto his back, laughing his ass off. “You think I deliberately did that? It was a towel, not a fucking brick wall.”
“But it poked me!” I point in the general area of his groin. “Did it have to poke me?”
He shrugs and sits up. “I told you to put a bra on.”
“Cain!”
“What do you want me to say, B? I can’t control where the blood in my body goes when I’m sleep. I’m sorry my morning erection alarmed you, but it’s no scarier than your cooking.”
How is he not embarrassed right now?
“You’re cute when you blush.” He grins, his eyes sparkling.
“I am not blushing!” I shout, totally blushing. I slap my hands against my cheeks and run out of the room and to the bathroom. I slam the door behind me, lock it, and lean against it.
Oh god, oh god, oh god.
I should have just gotten out of bed. I’m twenty-four, for goodness sakes. I’m not seventeen. It’s not the first erection I’ve felt. It’s just…Cain’s.
And I feel…warmer…than I should. Down there. In my vagina.
I clench my thighs together as an ache throbs through my clit.
Oh my god, my genitals are slutty.
This isn’t okay. I can be attracted to him, but being turned on at the mere feeling of his erection at my back is a step too far. Isn’t it? Yes. No. Yes. No. Fuck it!
“Brooke?” Cain knocks on the door. “Are you hiding from me?”
“No!” I say too loudly. “I’m peeing!”
“Uh-huh. Right behind the door?”
“Shit!” I push off it.
He knocks again. “Open the door, B.”
“No. I’m not sure I can ever look at you again.” Because if I do, I might jump you.
“You still trying to tell me you aren’t hiding or blushing?”
“I’m hiding! I’m hiding and I’m embarrassed!” I shout, cheeks flushing yet again. “I’m not coming out until you leave.”
“Don’t be stupid.”
“Cain! Just go!”
If you don’t, I might just lose my mind and tell you exactly why you need to go.
“All right,” he says in a low voice. “But when I call you later, you better answer, or I’m gonna show up wearing nothing.”
“Fine. Now go. Please.” I really wish my cheeks would stop burning now.
It’s not that I’m a prude. I’m the furthest thing from being a prude. I don’t even think it’s just that it’s Cain and Cain’s cock. It’s because I wasn’t expecting to wake up and get a good morning from Cain’s cock.
A couple of minutes later, my front door opens and closes as he leaves.
I let go of a long, shuddery breath and move toward the sink. I grab the edge of it and lean forward, looking at myself in the mirror. My cheeks really are a light reddish color, and my eyes are shining brighter than I’ve seen them in a long time.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Brooke Alice Barker, you complete and utter fool.
I splash cold water on my face. Then I brush my teeth, and when I’m done, I head for the door and unlock it. I run my fingers through my hair and turn toward my bedroom.
“Brooke.”
I scream and jump backwards. “For the love of fucking god!” I flatten myself against the wall and press my hands against my stomach. Then I throw myself toward him. “Don’t. Do. That. Again!” I hit his chest with every word before taking a step back. “You’re not supposed to be here!”
He holds his hands up. Just when I think he’s going to walk away, he grabs my arms and pulls me toward him. I squeak as my body collides with his and I grab his shirt. He doesn’t move his hands from my arms. In fact, he slides them up to my shoulders and even further until he’s cupping my neck.
Cain dips his head and pushes my hair away from my ear. His hot breath tickles my skin when he lowers his mouth to my ear and whispers, “Look in the mirror, Brooke. You’re a mess, but you’re a fucking gorgeous mess. There’s a reason I didn’t want to stay, and that’s it. Don’t blame me for waking up with a raging hard-on when you’ve been lying next to me in bed for six hours.”
I swallow, desperately trying to alleviate the dryness in my mouth. That I was not expecting. What was I expecting? I don’t damn well know, but not that.
“I don’t know how to reply to that.” My fingers twitch, my grip tightening on his shirt, if only a little. “At all.”
He blows out a long breath and rests his cheek against the side of my head.
I close my eyes. Keeping my breathing steady is getting harder and harder. I just want to lean into him and bury my face into his t-shirt and let my heart go crazy.
I don’t want to have to hold onto these emotions anymore.
“Fucking hell.” Cain kisses the side of my head. Then he releases me and walks across my apartment and right out of the door.
I stare after him, my stomach curling up into a sick, tight ball, and fall back against the wall.
I should have hit him with the baseball bat, shouldn’t I?
There’s a person on top of me.
Well, not on top of me. Behind me. Against me. With an arm on top of me. And a foot.
Oh my god, Cain!
I freeze. His arm and foot aren’t the only things invading my personal space.
Holy shit. Someone radio Houston because we have a problem. A big problem. And it’s poking into my lower back right now.
What do I do? Do I get up and pretend I didn’t feel it? Do I lie here and pretend—no, I can’t pretend to be asleep. I just turned off my annoying alarm. What if he heard it?
Oh god, is he awake too? Is he wondering what I’m going to do? Is he pretending he’s asleep and waiting for me to move?
Dear god, they don’t show you this in the movies! Or the books. Two hundred books on my Kindle and of the ones I’ve read, none of them show you what to do when you wake up with your best friend’s hard cock pressing against your back.
It’s bigger than I thought it’d be.
Jesus, self! It’s not a fucking birthday cake! Nor should I be contemplating the size of Cain’s cock.
Now I am though, aren’t I? Yep.
How much of it is touching me? Wait, how long is an inch? Can I figure out exactly how long it is right now? An inch is like half a thumb, right?
What the hell is wrong with me?
It’s a good seven inches. For sure. Maybe more.
Shit my life!
“Brooke?” Cain says from behind me. “You can relax. I’m not going to whip my cock out and hit you with it.”
“Oh my god!” I shove the sheets back and jump out of the bed. My cheeks are flaming, and I wrap my arms around my midsection as I turn to face him. “You knew I was awake and you lay there anyway?”
He grins, propping himself up on his elbow. “I was going to move, but then you froze, and I couldn’t resist messing with you.”
I give him my hardest glare. “You’re such an asshole! And you violated the towel!”
He collapses onto his back, laughing his ass off. “You think I deliberately did that? It was a towel, not a fucking brick wall.”
“But it poked me!” I point in the general area of his groin. “Did it have to poke me?”
He shrugs and sits up. “I told you to put a bra on.”
“Cain!”
“What do you want me to say, B? I can’t control where the blood in my body goes when I’m sleep. I’m sorry my morning erection alarmed you, but it’s no scarier than your cooking.”
How is he not embarrassed right now?
“You’re cute when you blush.” He grins, his eyes sparkling.
“I am not blushing!” I shout, totally blushing. I slap my hands against my cheeks and run out of the room and to the bathroom. I slam the door behind me, lock it, and lean against it.
Oh god, oh god, oh god.
I should have just gotten out of bed. I’m twenty-four, for goodness sakes. I’m not seventeen. It’s not the first erection I’ve felt. It’s just…Cain’s.
And I feel…warmer…than I should. Down there. In my vagina.
I clench my thighs together as an ache throbs through my clit.
Oh my god, my genitals are slutty.
This isn’t okay. I can be attracted to him, but being turned on at the mere feeling of his erection at my back is a step too far. Isn’t it? Yes. No. Yes. No. Fuck it!
“Brooke?” Cain knocks on the door. “Are you hiding from me?”
“No!” I say too loudly. “I’m peeing!”
“Uh-huh. Right behind the door?”
“Shit!” I push off it.
He knocks again. “Open the door, B.”
“No. I’m not sure I can ever look at you again.” Because if I do, I might jump you.
“You still trying to tell me you aren’t hiding or blushing?”
“I’m hiding! I’m hiding and I’m embarrassed!” I shout, cheeks flushing yet again. “I’m not coming out until you leave.”
“Don’t be stupid.”
“Cain! Just go!”
If you don’t, I might just lose my mind and tell you exactly why you need to go.
“All right,” he says in a low voice. “But when I call you later, you better answer, or I’m gonna show up wearing nothing.”
“Fine. Now go. Please.” I really wish my cheeks would stop burning now.
It’s not that I’m a prude. I’m the furthest thing from being a prude. I don’t even think it’s just that it’s Cain and Cain’s cock. It’s because I wasn’t expecting to wake up and get a good morning from Cain’s cock.
A couple of minutes later, my front door opens and closes as he leaves.
I let go of a long, shuddery breath and move toward the sink. I grab the edge of it and lean forward, looking at myself in the mirror. My cheeks really are a light reddish color, and my eyes are shining brighter than I’ve seen them in a long time.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Brooke Alice Barker, you complete and utter fool.
I splash cold water on my face. Then I brush my teeth, and when I’m done, I head for the door and unlock it. I run my fingers through my hair and turn toward my bedroom.
“Brooke.”
I scream and jump backwards. “For the love of fucking god!” I flatten myself against the wall and press my hands against my stomach. Then I throw myself toward him. “Don’t. Do. That. Again!” I hit his chest with every word before taking a step back. “You’re not supposed to be here!”
He holds his hands up. Just when I think he’s going to walk away, he grabs my arms and pulls me toward him. I squeak as my body collides with his and I grab his shirt. He doesn’t move his hands from my arms. In fact, he slides them up to my shoulders and even further until he’s cupping my neck.
Cain dips his head and pushes my hair away from my ear. His hot breath tickles my skin when he lowers his mouth to my ear and whispers, “Look in the mirror, Brooke. You’re a mess, but you’re a fucking gorgeous mess. There’s a reason I didn’t want to stay, and that’s it. Don’t blame me for waking up with a raging hard-on when you’ve been lying next to me in bed for six hours.”
I swallow, desperately trying to alleviate the dryness in my mouth. That I was not expecting. What was I expecting? I don’t damn well know, but not that.
“I don’t know how to reply to that.” My fingers twitch, my grip tightening on his shirt, if only a little. “At all.”
He blows out a long breath and rests his cheek against the side of my head.
I close my eyes. Keeping my breathing steady is getting harder and harder. I just want to lean into him and bury my face into his t-shirt and let my heart go crazy.
I don’t want to have to hold onto these emotions anymore.
“Fucking hell.” Cain kisses the side of my head. Then he releases me and walks across my apartment and right out of the door.
I stare after him, my stomach curling up into a sick, tight ball, and fall back against the wall.
I should have hit him with the baseball bat, shouldn’t I?
ABOUT THE BOOK
From New York Times bestselling author, Emma Hart, comes a brand new standalone novel. BEING BROOKE is a laugh-out-loud, sexy, and sometimes highly inappropriate romantic comedy about being in love with your best friend. And how much that freaking sucks.
My name is Brooke Barker...
And I'm a freaking disaster.
No, seriously. I’m a college drop-out working a dead-end job, my best friend Carly’s dog gets more action than I do, and I have more bad dates in my diary than there are movie remakes.
Not to mention I'm completely and utterly in love with Cain Elliott.
The problem? He’s in a relationship. With a girl who’s so plastic she makes Barbie cry herself to sleep with jealousy.
The second problem? He's my best friend.
My shut-up-and-put-on-Harry-Potter, yes-this-is-your-shirt, help-I-have-no-power, crap-I’m-out-of-tampons, kinda best friend.
And that’s all he can be, right?
Right.
From New York Times bestselling author, Emma Hart, comes a brand new standalone novel. BEING BROOKE is a laugh-out-loud, sexy, and sometimes highly inappropriate romantic comedy about being in love with your best friend. And how much that freaking sucks.
My name is Brooke Barker...
And I'm a freaking disaster.
No, seriously. I’m a college drop-out working a dead-end job, my best friend Carly’s dog gets more action than I do, and I have more bad dates in my diary than there are movie remakes.
Not to mention I'm completely and utterly in love with Cain Elliott.
The problem? He’s in a relationship. With a girl who’s so plastic she makes Barbie cry herself to sleep with jealousy.
The second problem? He's my best friend.
My shut-up-and-put-on-Harry-Potter, yes-this-is-your-shirt, help-I-have-no-power, crap-I’m-out-of-tampons, kinda best friend.
And that’s all he can be, right?
Right.
