Today we have the release day blitz of Everly Lucas’ MAKE IT MUSIC! Check it out and be sure to grab your copy of this fantastic new release today!
Title: MAKE IT MUSIC
Author: Everly Lucas
Genre: Contemporary Romance
About Make It Music:
House parties. Hot jocks. New friends. Typical college experiences, right?
Sleepless nights. Racing thoughts. Slipping grades. Drinking way too much and waking up alone in a strange bed with no memory of how I got there, then bolting before having to face whoever put my drunk ass up for the night… Slightly less typical.
Okay, I’ll admit it. I’m making a mess of my freshman year, but I can fix my own mistakes. I don’t need anyone swooping in to save me, especially not my overbearing, unfairly gorgeous psych professor.
So what if he manages to make tweed look sexy? So what if I get chills when he says my name? So what if he kisses me like it would kill him not to? None of that stuff matters once I finally remember that his was the strange bed I woke up in the night I blacked out.
Nope. I don’t need him. But that doesn’t stop me from wanting him like crazy…even when crazy is exactly how I feel.
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Unable to move faster than a tranquilized sloth, I make it to class with barely a second to spare. As soon as I step through the door, Professor Ryan looks my way, which is an improvement, but he also appears to be staring daggers at me, which is not.
Lacking the minimum amount of sleep necessary for taming my inner bitch, I fling eye-daggers right back at him. Take that, asshole.
But what does he do? He smiles.
I could’ve handled more contempt, because that would’ve been an appropriate reaction this time. But the fact that he finds my sass amusing just pisses me off even more. If it wouldn’t mean instant expulsion and, in all likelihood, criminal charges, I’d claw his smug face right off.
Grumbling, I head for an empty seat in the back row.
Midway there, the professor announces, “Everybody, stand up.” He waits as the confused, groggy students slowly rise to their feet and glance around at each other. “Now find your desk from Tuesday. That will be your assigned seat for the rest of the semester.”
Crap. Crappity crap crap crap.
Several students groan—myself included—but we all resignedly take our things to our original desks. The front row and I will not be best friends today. Or any day, really.
I try not to sneak anymore peeks at Professor Ryan, but peeking is unavoidable. My traitor eyes are drawn to the man. His eyes appear to be drawn to me, too, as he watches me drop my bag on the floor and plop down in my chair. That infuriating smirk is still in place, so I stick my tongue out at him, apparently unable to control the childish impulses I usually manage to keep in check.
The corners of his lips turn up a few more notches and form a grin of massive, condescending proportions.
Paranoid thoughts creep in again. Was the assigned-seat thing because of me? Did he want me within easy teasing distance, or something? Is he seriously that cruel? My logical brain tells me I’m being ridiculous, but paranoia is rarely ever open to seeing reason. It’s just there, being all unreasonable, and you can’t do shit about it.
Why can’t he go back to ignoring me? I liked that better than all this confusing attention.
While I’m busy convincing myself I’m not at the center of the decisions made by a man I hardly know, he takes attendance. His voice fades, becoming an underwater echo in my tired ears, until he gets to my name. Then it rings loud and clear.
My name on his lips sparks something. Just a flash of the ghost of a memory, the kind that slips further away the more you try to chase it.
“Lacey Hunter,” he says again. “Lacey.”
“I don’t want you, Lacey,” the ghost-memory whispers in my mind.
The room erupts in snickers and under-the-breath laughter, and I cringe when I realize what I said. What the hell is wrong with me that I can’t manage my own mouth?
Professor Ryan freezes. His lips form a tight line, and all color leaves his cheeks. Funny, because I’m pretty sure my cheeks are bright red. But in the time it takes me to blink, his features shift from shock to boredom. “Ms. Hunter, I’m afraid I’m not cool enough to allow my students to call me by my first name. In class, let’s keep it formal, shall we?”
About Everly Lucas:
After years of rooting for couples and falling for heroes created by other authors, Everly decided to create her own. She now has a crowd of characters hanging out in her head, with no intention of kicking them out.
She lives in Philadelphia with her precious laptop, a cat named Bunny, and a kitten who falls down a lot. Her favorite things include Dr. Pepper, sparkly stuff, blissful silence, and singing while doing the dishes.
Everly can be found on Twitter, like, all the time.
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