Title: With This Heart
Author: R.S. Grey
Release Date: March 27, 2014
Genre: New Adult Romance
SynopsisIf someone had told me a year ago that I was about to fall in love, go on an epic road trip, ride a Triceratops, sing on a bar, and lose my virginity, I would have assumed they were on drugs.
Well, that is, until I met Beckham.
Beck was mostly to blame for my recklessness. Gorgeous, clever, undeniably charming Beck barreled into my life as if it were his mission to make sure I never took living for granted. He showed me that there were no boundaries, rules were for the spineless, and a kiss was supposed to happen when I least expected.
Beck was the plot twist that took me by surprise. Two months before I met him, death was knocking at my door. I’d all but given up my last scrap of hope when suddenly, I was given a second chance at life. This time around, I wasn’t going to let it slip through my fingers.
We set out on a road trip with nothing to lose and no guarantees of tomorrow.
Our road trip was about young, reckless love.
The kind of love that burns bright.
The kind of love that no road-map could bring me back from.
**Recommended for ages 17+ due to language and sexual situations.**
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This-Heart-R-S-Grey-ebook/dp/ B00J9P60YC/ref=la_B00HK02B7S_ 1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8& qid=1395883885&sr
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"I grabbed my first bag and opened my front door to find Beck standing a few feet outside. I took in his messy brown hair, white t-shirt, and dark jeans. Why did a white t-shirt look so good on him? Maybe because it was fitted enough to show off his toned body without being obnoxiously tight? I wasn’t quite sure.
He didn’t say anything at first. His hazel eyes scanned down my body, lingering a moment longer on my bare legs, and then he looked back up at me with a wide, perfectly straight smile.
“Is that all you’re bringing?” he asked, pointing at the smallest of my three bags.
“Hah! Yeah right, I have like ten times more stuff.”
He shook his head and narrowed his eyes on me playfully. “I like a girl with baggage, Abby Mae. Keeps things interesting.”
His comment was too much; it stripped away my normal sarcastic responses. I was left with nothing but the bag in my hand, so I tossed it at him. He had to think fast and catch it before it fell to the ground at his feet.
“Good. Help me load it up then,” I smirked, and then turned to collect the rest of my stuff.
“Don’t forget to go to the bathroom! We aren’t stopping until we’re out of hell!” he called behind me.
“You mean Dallas?” I asked over my shoulder.
I was sitting in the passenger seat in Beck’s old, yellow VW Camper. It had been renovated recently, so the inside was all new leather, but it still had a lot of the classic details.
Our stuff fit easily in the back and he wasn’t kidding about there being space to sleep. We’d have to be really close, but there was definitely room. My face reddened at the thought.
I wedged the urn between my feet so that it wouldn’t tip over, and then buckled my seat belt. When I looked up, Beck was watching me with a bemused smile. My hand instinctively slid over my side braid and my face. I didn’t feel anything out of the ordinary.
“What?” I asked.
He shook his head, but his grin never faltered. “Nothing. Just trying to remember this moment.”
I furrowed my brows in wonder and tilted my head. The sun shone through the windshield of the Camper, highlighting the green details in his eyes. Beck wasn’t movie-star good-looking; he was boy-next-door good-looking— the kind of guy that might not know the full extent of his effect on the female population.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because our lives will never be the same.”
A small dimple formed on the corner of his mouth before he turned toward the steering wheel and pulled out of my apartment complex.
That dimple was the first thing I told myself to remember about the road trip.
Just as we turned onto the entrance for the highway, I peered over at Beck. “Just so you know, my faith in humanity is dangling by a few threads. If you murder me, I’ll pretty much lose all hope.”
I couldn’t keep the hint of a smile from my lips.
He nodded. “And if you murder me?”
I shrugged. “That would just be a good plot twist.”
About the Author
I am a lover of books, chocolate, reality TV, metaphors and similes, black labs, and cold weather.
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