Behind the Count - Audiobook

★★★★★ “I absolutely loved this book and everything about it! Noah and Shannon’s story was so beautiful. It was full of tension, pain, insecurities, and so much love it just leapt off the page. I could feel the emotion in the story from the first chapter and was instantly invested... This book is definitely a favorite for 2020.”--Brooke, Between the Pages of Romance.

Meet Noah Geren in this Best Friend’s Sister Romance

Dating my brother’s best friend? Yeah, that’s forbidden…

Noah Geren.

Cessna University’s starting catcher.

Sensible. 

My life-long crush. 

And totally off-limits.

I only want a few things in life. 

Graduate with a fashion degree. 

To be taken seriously. 

And Noah Geren. 

After my first year of college, I let the idea of him go. 

And it almost worked, 

Until that late summer night.

Shannon Smith. 

My best friend’s sister. 

The secret star of my late-night fantasies. 

Hotter than sin. 

Unattainable.

There’s a code among best friends and teammates—no dating their sisters.

Too bad I didn’t listen.

One weak moment changed everything. 

And nothing at all. 

I’m not good for her. 

They call me the sensible one, 

But the more Shannon and I are forced to be together, 

Staying away makes less sense,

And the reasons become hard to remember.

But I need to stay strong.

For reasons, she’ll never understand.

Book Two in the Cessna U Wildcats series, Behind the Count, is a best friend's sister, stand-alone romance. If you like sexy, hot baseball players, click to add Noah Geren.

The front doorbell rings, ending any further primping. I trample down the stairs, surprised Noah walked instead of driving. Considering he lives next door, the distance isn’t far, but this rain is relentless. I open the door with every intent to ask, but the question dies on my tongue the moment he comes into view.

His cropped hair is soaked, making the normally light brown hue a shade darker. His arm rests against the door frame while the wet fabric clings to his broad chest, defining every delicious cut muscle. The low-slung jeans reveal just enough skin as water droplets skate down his happy trail. I can barely breathe. I’m so busy checking him out that I don’t notice the door frame acting as his support until he stumbles.

“Are you okay?” I attempt to break his fall, but he straightens himself before I reach him.

“I’m fine.” He plays it off by keeping his tone light, but the slight slur to his speech is unmistakable. Noah’s drunk, which is surprising, considering he never drinks. “I’m more concerned about you. The storm’s nasty.”

Those deep green eyes trap me in place, the small scar above his left eye a constant reminder of how many years I’ve wanted to tell him how much I want him. How I longed for the day he’d see me for more than his friend’s little sister. I thought this crush would fizzle over time, but each moment we spend together only serves to fuel my want. The only thing keeping my secret safe is the fear of being humiliated and rejected. There’s one thing I know for sure: Noah Geren is clueless when it comes to my feelings about him.

He runs his fingertips down the side of my face. “You don’t need to be scared.”

My heart hammers in my chest but from a different reason other than the storm. Are my thoughts so easily readable? No, don’t be stupid. He’s only concerned because of the storm.

“You shouldn’t have walked over in the rain.” I push the door back farther to let him inside.

“’Tis ’kay. I had to check on you.”

“I appreciate that, but you’re soaking wet.” I place my arms around his waist and shiver from his wetness pressed against me. Or maybe it’s from being tucked against his hard frame. It’s difficult to tell. “Take your shoes off. Mom will kill me if you track water on the floor.”

Once he complies, I lead him toward the living room, but we stop at the edge of the room. My gaze lands on the white cloth-covered furniture. Yeah, that’s not going to work. I need to get him changed into some dry clothes. Otherwise, there won’t be anywhere for him to sit.

“Let’s go upstairs.”

He whips his head toward me. “That’s not a good idea.”

“What? Why?” I guide his body toward the stairs.

“You don’t know.”

“Know what?” Truthfully, I want to laugh because I’ve never seen Noah drunk. He’s the designated driver. He’s meticulous about what he puts in his body. Food being fuel and having to put the correct fuel in or whatever reasoning he uses.

“What?” I prompt again.

“That I like you.”

My heart stutters as my mind tries to put more meaning behind his words. I know he likes me, but what I want is so much more than being Braxton’s kid sister.

“Yeah, I like you too.” Just more than you’ll ever know.

He stops walking and turns to face me. His mouth opens, and for a hopeful moment, I think he’s about to confess some suppressed undying love, but nothing comes out. My body deflates. Even in his drunken state, he can’t admit he likes me as more than just a friend, which serves to reconfirm the fact friendship is all that will ever be between us.

“Come on, we need to get you some dry clothes.”

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