Release Blitz, Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway:
Bet You by Neve Wilder
Franklin University Series, Book 4
Spencer
Whose brilliant idea was it to build university housing next to one of Franklin U’s most notorious party frats?
I’m a real student—the kind who actually came to college to learn, not some dumb frat bro who sees Franklin U as a four-year challenge to consume the most booze and throw out the best pick-up line.
Their all-hours lifestyle is driving me crazy. Not to mention, the jerks keep taking my assigned parking spot.
But the worst offender might be Cory Ingram. Sure, he has a smile that could melt a polar ice cap, but no way will I ever be one of his minions. I’m pretty sure I made that clear when I blew my top at him. So I have no idea why he’s suddenly everywhere around me, turning on the charm like I might actually fall for it.
Nope. Not gonna happen.
Cory
From the first day I set foot on Franklin U’s campus, everything has been golden. I have a ton of friends, endless parties to be the life of, and whoever I want in my bed on any given night. Sure, I’m a shameless party boy, but I’m not a jerk. Ask anyone. Seriously.
Even the crotchety old groundskeeper waves and smiles at me when I pass.
Then there’s Spencer Crowe. I’ve never seen a guy’s face get so red over a parking spot. Even when I try to make it right, he proceeds to give me the tongue-lashing of a lifetime—which is about the moment I notice that, in addition to being irrationally irate, he’s also crazy hot.
My friends think I’ve finally met the one person I can’t seduce…
Bet you I can.
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Once in my bedroom, the thumping bass from late night at DIK house is pervasive, interrupted by an occasional shout or whoop. Liam warned me, to be fair, and usually, some earplugs solve the issue. Usually.
Because once I’m lying in bed, ears stuffed with foam, I struggle to sleep. I keep thinking back to my encounter with Cory this afternoon and then again at Shenanigans. How can a person go multiple years without interacting with another, and then suddenly, they’re everywhere?
I toss and turn for a while, then give up and fold my arms behind my head, watching Ted swim back and forth in his tank. Sometimes that’s enough to send me off, but tonight, I find myself analyzing his movements, trying to decide if he seems more agitated than normal. Inconclusive, but I’m definitely going to move forward with getting him some tank mates.
A muted green-blue glow draws my eye to the blinds covering my window. They’re cheap and old, a couple of the slats dented or angled funny from wear and tear and bracketed on either side by some navy curtains someone left behind last year.
I watch the shifting light, puzzling over it. Does some DIK have a disco ball in their room? I snort. I wouldn’t be surprised. Seems like a DIK-ish thing to do. There are no other colors, though, and it doesn’t flash the way a disco ball would, thank fuck. I really would consider going over there if that were the case.
Sheer curiosity pulls me out of bed toward the window, where I nudge one of the slats that’s come completely off the strings on one end so I can peek through at the side of the frat house about twenty feet away. There are a few windows scattered over its edifice that I’ve never paid much attention to, some of them dark, one with light peeking beyond curtains pulled tightly across it. The blue-green light emanates from a double window directly across and a tiny bit below mine.
Pulling the blinds down farther, I scope it out. It’s some sort of light-projection machine that fills the room with a soothing kaleidoscope of cerulean and emerald and makes me think of currents moving through the ocean. It’s pretty cool, actually. Maybe I could get one. I’ll bet Ted would like it. I’m making a mental note to search on Amazon tomorrow and see how expensive something like that is when movement stops me in my tracks.
There’s just enough light for me to discern two guys, one slightly taller than the other, pressed together, kissing, running their hands over each other. Their clothes are still on and… jeez, it’s been a while since I’ve touched or been touched like that. Just watching them has my cock hardening wistfully.
The taller guy yanks his shirt off while the shorter guy trails kisses down the guy’s chest, slowly lowering to his knees. Light washes over the taller guy’s skin, bathing the angular features in soft hues. I catch a peek of a tattoo on his bicep and follow the swirling glow up to his face.
Of all the fucking luck. It’s Cory.
My parking-spot nemesis is the tall, gorgeously muscled, head-thrown-back-in-pleasure, sexy plump-lips-parted guy I’m staring at like a lech.
I let go of the blinds and stumble backward, air whooshing in and out of my lungs rapidly. This is creepy of me, right? It’s creepy to watch someone else hooking up. It’s creepier still that it’s Cory. Where the fuck are the blinds on the window anyway? Why’s it just wide open like that for pent-up guys like me to look in on?
I turn to go back to bed and stop. As if my feet are now conspirators with my throbbing dick, they won’t move forward. Maybe the guy’s an exhibitionist. Maybe he just doesn’t care. If he’s getting it on in front of a window with no coverings on it, is it really so bad if I keep looking? I might not like Cory, but I can appreciate a hot body and a hot show.
Besides, he parked in my spot earlier, which is a violation in and of itself. Is it really so bad that I do sort of similar? He should have pulled his curtains or blinds.
To celebrate the release of Bet You, Neve is giving away an eBook of the Winner’s choice from her backlist!
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About the Author:
Neve Wilder reads promiscuously, across multiple genres, but her favorite stories always contain an element of romance. Incidentally, this is also what she likes to write. Slow-burners with delicious tension? Yes. Whiplash-inducing page-turners, also yes. Down and dirty scorchers? Yes. And every flavor in between.
She believes David Bowie was the sexiest musician to ever live, and she’s always game to nerd out on anything from music to writing.
And finally, she believes that love conquers all. Except the heat index in July. Nothing can conquer that bastard.
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