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Evan Bryant wasn’t your typical hero.
But he was mine.
Broken by the worlds’ standards, he was still the strongest boy I would ever know.
My best friend. The boy I’d given everything to. My heart, my body, and the promise of forever.
The day I’d needed him most, he walked away.
He left me shattered and questioning the love I’d thought we’d shared.

Three years later, I wasn’t prepared for him to return to Gingham Lakes.
It wouldn’t have mattered if he still wasn’t the most beautiful man I’d ever seen.
My fingers still would have ached to caress his skin.
My body still would have begged to get lost in his touch.
And my heart . . . it would have always sung his name.
But time changes things. With it, secrets that could ruin everything.
Can we find a way to love again, or have the fears of our past stolen the hope of our forever…


EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT: Hold on to Hope

A.L. Jackson

AVAILABLE NOW

Book Series: 

An all-new best-friends-to-lovers romance is out now from author A.L. Jackson, and I have a sexy little sneak peek for you.

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Excerpt

She lifted her chin. Surrender and defiance. “I don’t know how to be in your space and not want you, Evan. I don’t remember how not to be yours.”

That was all it took for every reservation holding us back to topple. For every wall to crumble to the ground. Nothing but rubble and debris strewn in the middle of us.

I scaled right over it.

I had Frankie in my arms in a second flat, one hand twisted up in her mess of hair and the other bound tight around her waist.

Her face was a couple inches higher than mine, and I gazed up at her in the same second I was pulling her down to my mouth.

Devouring her in a mind-altering kiss.

Greedy as I stroked my tongue between her lips, groaning deep as hers twisted with mine in a reckless rhythm that I wanted to dance to forever.

Fuck. This girl always tasted the same.

So goddamn sweet.

“That’s because you’re mine, Frankie,” I rumbled at her mouth. “You’ve always been. Nothing is gonna change that.”

“I missed you. So much. Oh God, Evan, I missed you. You are makin’ me crazy.”

I drank down every word, read them against my lips, savored each one like it had been carved into the pages of our story.

“Just let me touch you, Frankie. Let me make you remember what we were like. The way we were supposed to be.”

Her mouth was on mine, the whisper of her words hitting me like a storm as I deciphered her meaning. “Please, Evan. I don’t want to hurt anymore. I don’t want to hurt anymore. Make it stop.”

Fuck.

I hated that I was the one who was responsible for it. That I’d been the one to divvy out this pain. Knew I had to be careful with her. That I had to prove it.

“Shh . . .” I murmured. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

Her fingers were in my hair, yanking and tugging in her play to get closer.

Our spirits surged into the air.

“Please . . . touch me . . . just let me feel.”

Frankie suddenly jerked free of the kiss, and her attention darted to the crib. I followed her line of sight to find Everett stirring a bit. I didn’t hesitate, I just carried her across the room and through the door of the attached bathroom.

I glanced back to make sure that he had settled. “Can you hear him if he needs us?” I asked as I snapped the door closed.

Frankie nodded frantically before she dove for me.

Fingers frenzied. Lips frantic. This girl a live wire I held in the palms of my hands.

A bomb. Mortar.

Exploding into my world and changing its makeup. I spun and pressed her to the wall, taking some weight off so I could run my hands down her sides.

Clutching. Searching. I wanted to rediscover every inch.

Felt her moan in my mouth, her back arch, hungry for my touch. She clawed at my shirt, tugging it free, and I slipped my hands under her tank, sliding it up and doing the same.

It only mussed up her hair more, that frizz flying free.

Those cinnamon eyes sparked with desire.

Frankie wore this pink frilly bra, all lace and ribbons and temptation, the cups pushing up her small tits, the charm of that necklace dangling in the middle of it.

I brushed my fingertips over it. “I can’t believe you still have this.”

“I’ve never taken it off.”

I ran my hands over her breasts before I tugged down the fabric of her bra. It exposed her even pinker nipples that were so pebbled and pretty that I couldn’t do anything but lean down and take one hard tip into my mouth.

Swirled it like a sucker.

Sweeter than candy.

Fuck. She was gonna undo me. Almost forgot what it was like when she was mine.

How she’d always been a little wicked.

Incautious in her need.

Not afraid to demand exactly what she wanted.

She gave a good yank at my hair, my head pricking in a delicious-sort of pain as she begged for more. For me to push her harder and deeper and farther.

Spinning her around, I pushed her belly up against the bathroom counter. Her hands flew out to steady herself.

Our eyes met in the mirror where I towered over her from behind.

Her expression turbulent.

Untamed and ferocious.

She’d always left me feeling a bit savage.

Like I was two seconds from coming unhinged.

Usually did.

Getting lost in Frankie Leigh was the best feeling in the world.

Her chest heaved, and I slipped my arms around her so I could cup her tits. I plastered myself to her back. Heart hammering out of control and my dick begging at the curve of her ass.

I rubbed against her there, searching for any kind of friction.

Relief.

This girl an oasis when I’d been dying of thirst in a parched, rainless desert.

Knew she was making all these needy sounds, felt the breaths panting from her lungs.

She rested her head on my shoulder.

Succumbing to my hold.

I watched her through the mirror, the flat planes of her stomach quivering, her deep belly button so sexy it made my head spin with greed.

“Please, Evan. I need you. I need you so bad I can’t see straight.”

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Fight for Me - Recommended Reading Order

(standalone stories with interconnected characters)

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