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Soaked by Stacy Kestwick
Series: Water’s Edge #2
Genres: Contemporary Romance
Having hope was her weakness.
If Sadie Mullins hadn’t started to believe in love again, hadn’t let herself fall for him, she wouldn’t be feeling this way.
Wouldn’t have her heart breaking.
Wouldn’t regret meeting West Montgomery.
The cocky bastard should have left her alone, let her forget about him.
Let her move on with her life.
Of course, he didn’t.
That could have been the end of it.
Of course, it wasn’t.
*This is Book 2 in the Water's Edge Series and is a continuation of Sadie and West's story that began in Wet. This is not a standalone.*
When Wet ended I will say that I was as fed up with West as Sadie was! He returns (of course after Sadie saw him carrying Aubrey, his ex whatever, on the dock) and attempts to get in touch with Sadie who is leaving the next day for a photo shoot. Sadie is determined not to let West stomp on her heart again and I can say that I didn’t blame her. There is more to West’s story though and I found myself rooting for him more and more. One thing that is important to point out is that both West and Sadie are young and at times very immature. Things between them could have been solved easily in many ways but if that happened no one would want to read about them. There are times that I honestly wanted to slap both of them but I wanted to punch Sadie more. I mean take a moment to hear the guy out geesh! All in all this did not disappoint and I enjoyed reading it as much as I did the first. The holes and answers I was looking for after the first book were answered and filled in nicely.
I normally hated margaritas.
But Alison? My third best-est friend? She made some damn good ones. And there were so many flavors! Lime was okay. Mango was better. Watermelon wasn’t that great, but I drank it anyway because I didn’t want to hurt its feelings. I was almost finished with blood orange and it might have been my favorite, but I still had two flavors to go, so who knew?
The only thing I needed to decide on was whether pink lemonade or pineapple was next.
Wasn’t pineapple supposed to make cum taste sweeter?
Wait — that only worked if the guy drank it. Right?
I couldn’t remember now.
And it was fucking glorious.
Alison was my new third best-est friend and blood orange margaritas were the shit.
Best. Night. Ever.
I swung my head around when I heard the stool next to me being slid across the terracotta-tiled floor and almost lost my balance.
But Nick caught me.
Niiiiiiick. He looked nice tonight. Tight, dark shirt. Fitted khakis. I could kind of see the outline of his bulge against the fabric.
It wasn’t bad.
West had a nice bulge too.
I wrinkled my forehead. No. I shook my head. No.
Not thinking about him tonight.
Hey! Nick was here. Maybe he could drink the pineapple margarita and help me remember. I could get the pink lemonade one then.
I grinned up at him, and poked him in the chest with my finger.
“Alison!” I yelled. “This guy—” poke “—needs a pineapple margarita. And I’ll take the lemonade one next.”
She raised an eyebrow and looked at Nick for confirmation.
Nick with the bulge.
He leaned closer to me. “Why pineapple?”
I rolled my eyes. “Because I can’t remember. And this will solve the problem!”
“Can’t remember what?”
“If it’ll make you taste sweeter.”
He stared at me, then coughed. “Do you mean—”
I leaned over and patted his lap. “Down here.”
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