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Bad for You by Taylor Holloway

Lone Star Lovers, #9 | Read for FREE in Kindle Unlimited

Book Blurb:

The boy next door.

Star of my teenage fantasies.

My tormentor.

After serving as an army doctor in some of the most dangerous places on Earth, Brandon has finally come home. And he’s brought his cocky, alpha attitude and rugged good looks with him. To my hospital. He’s still a loose cannon and I’m right in his sights.

But instead of begging for him to stop, this good girl is having to stop herself from begging for more.

I thought I put my obsession with this moody bad boy to bed.

It now appears that's right where he wants me.

I’ve always made good choices.

But this time I’m worried I’ll pick the one that's bad for me, even if Brandon feels oh so right.

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Excerpt:

Chapter 5: Brandon

“She’s busy,” Lucy told me when I made it upstairs later that afternoon. “You can make an appointment if you’d like. I can fit you in next week. Just send me an email and I’ll set something up when Dr. Ford has some time on her schedule.”

“There’s nothing this afternoon?” I asked.

“No. Nothing. Nothing this week. Next week doesn’t look great either, actually.”

“Aren’t you even going to check the computer?” Lucy was doing her nails very carefully and very slowly with a dark, sparkly plum color.

She looked up at me insolently. “I already checked it.” She yawned at my glare.

“Well, can you check again?” I asked, irritated. My glowering and looming wasn’t working on Lucy at all. She must be immune from dealing with my dad.

“What’s the magic word?” Lucy chirped.

“Now.” She cocked an eyebrow at me and returned to her nail painting. I sighed. None of my intimidation tactics were working on her at all. “Please.”

Lucy’s green eyes flashed over to her screen for a fraction of a second and then back up to my face with a steely glint. “Yeah, there’s nothing. So sorry.” It was the most unconvincing act I’d ever seen.

Just then, as I was on the verge of just walking past Lucy entirely, Aimee walked out of her office and headed toward the elevators. Good timing. I winked at Lucy who made a weird face at me. “Never mind,” I told her, grinning. “I found Aimee. Thanks anyway.”

Aimee took one look at me approaching and grimaced. “I can’t talk right now,” she said tersely as I fell into step beside her. “Make an appointment with Lucy if you need to speak with me.”

Yeah right. I tried that already.

“Come on, Aimee,” I said as the elevator doors closed, “let’s go get some lunch. I know a great taco place near here. I want to prove to you that I’m not a dick.” I spread my hands peacefully. “Let’s start over. What do you say?”

She turned to me in the elevator and the look in her eyes made me take a half step back. If looks could kill, I’d need a defibrillator. Aimee’s soft blue eyes had gone icy.

“No, thank you,” she bit out between clenched teeth.

“Why not?” I asked. “Don’t you like me anymore?” She used to like me a lot. She used to stare at me like… well, like I was staring at her.

“No. I don’t like you. I hate you, Brandon,” she said simply. “I thought that was obvious.” She looked at me like I was a rat or something.

“You used to like me.” I reminded her, aiming for mischievous and rakish. “You used to like me a lot if I recall correctly.” In fact, I remembered her little schoolgirl crush very clearly. It had been annoying to me at the time, but now I missed the longing in her blue eyes.

She turned her nose up at me. “Sure. And then I grew up.”

“I can see that,” I said appreciatively.

Her eyes widened and then narrowed. I winced at her reaction to my words. Most women like being told they’re beautiful. Aimee, apparently, was not one of them. This conversation was not going well at all. Where was the blushing, stuttering Aimee I remembered? Apparently she was a freakin’ Amazon warrior now.

“Listen up, and listen good, Dr. Koels,” Aimee told me, stalking closer in the narrow elevator. “Don’t talk to me like that. I’m not here for your entertainment or puerile gratification. We aren’t friends. I don’t even want to be your colleague. Leave me alone.”

I blinked. I was not used to being rejected like this by women, especially not this abruptly or thoroughly. The only good thing about working in this god-forsaken hospital was her, but it was beginning to dawn on me that she really did hate me. It wasn’t a coy scheme. She genuinely and completely despised me.

“Is this because of—” I started to ask about that one time with Hunter and she cut me off with an angry noise.

“You know what it’s because of, and if you don’t, you fucking should.” I swallowed. She was furious. Her skin had gone pale and her eyes were wide. “You, Brandon Koels, are a bad person. You create havoc, chaos, and unhappiness wherever you go. Now you’ve brought it here, where I live and work. I want none of it in my life. Do you understand?” Her voice was an angry hiss.

“I’m not seventeen anymore, Aimee,” I managed to say, still stunned and confused. I had not expected this sort of outburst from her.

“Neither am I.”

“Just—”

“No. Just nothing,” she told me. “You think you can just come in and charm me with your cute smile and lunch offer? You think I’ll let you off the hook for being cruel to me? For breaking your dad’s heart and running away? You think that I’ll sleep with you? Well, think again. You can take that knowing attitude of yours and shove it straight up your smug ass.” As soon as the doors popped open, she was walking away. “Go bang a nurse or something but leave me alone,” she said over her shoulder. “I’m not buying what you’re selling, Brandon Koels. I’m much too smart for that.”

I gaped at her retreating figure and thought over her suggestion for a moment. Nah. I didn’t want to bang a nurse. I wanted to bang Aimee Ford. And if it made my father furious? Well, that was even better.

AUTHOR INFORMATION:

Taylor Holloway is a bestselling romance author who writes sweet and sexy stories with just enough of an edge to offset all the feels. Her books are specifically Taylor-ed to make you blush, cry, laugh, and swoon. She's an Austin native with a penchant for bad puns, strong margaritas, expensive shoes, and shiny things. When she's not writing, she's working a hilariously bland corporate job, spoiling her husband and cat, or going for long walks in the dark.