Series: Finding Fate #1
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance
on March 4th 2014
Pixie and Levi haven't spoken in nearly a year when they find themselves working―and living―at the same inn in the middle of nowhere. Once upon a time, they were childhood friends. But that was before everything went to hell. And now things are... awkward.
All they want to do is avoid each other, and their past, for as long as possible. But now that they're forced to share a bathroom, and therefore a shower, keeping their distance from one another becomes less difficult than keeping their hands off each other. Welcome to the hallway of awkward tension and sexual frustration, folks. Get comfy. It’s going to be a long summer.
By turns humorous and heartbreaking, Best Kind Of Broken has become one of my favorites!
CORA CARMACK, New York Times bestselling author of Losing It.
Youll fall for Pixie and Levi, just like I did!
JENNIFER L. ARMENTROUT (J. Lynn), #1 New York Times bestselling author of Wait For You
Tangled with friendship, history and heartbreaknot to mention a huge dose of humorChelsea Fines New Adult novel is not to be missed! Beyond an incredibly HOT read, Pixie and Levis longing for each other will have you rooting for them till the very end.
JAY CROWNOVER, New York Times bestselling author of Rule
This book destroyed me. Tore me into little tiny pieces. But somehow with lots of laughs and some very steamy times, Chelsea put me back together again! Chelsea Fines style is witty, visceral and fresh. All I wanted to do was crawl inside this book and live with the characters. And now all I want is MORE.
CHELSEA M. CAMERON, New York Times bestselling author of My Favorite Mistake
Sandwiched between laugh out loud moments and some serious heat, Best Kind of Broken is an unforgettable story of loss and forgiveness that will leave your heart aching.
LISA DESROCHERS, USA Today bestselling author of A Little Too Far
Levi is so distracting. His arms are all raised, and his shoulders are all broad, and he’s fixing crap, and it’s just…it’s just…annoying.
With a huff and a puff and some choice words in my head, I grab my sliced bell peppers and force my feet to the stove. I throw the vegetables into a frying pan, grab a wooden spoon, and ignore Levi’s close proximity.
My body hums.
I ignore that too.
I steal a glance in his direction and watch as the corded muscles in his forearm flex as he unscrews something on the fire alarm box. Why does he have so many muscles in his forearm? That can’t be healthy.
I drop my eyes to the frying pan and focus on bell peppers, because bell peppers are interesting and they don’t have backs the size of Alaska or copious amounts of forearm muscles.
The forearm muscles that I’m not thinking about lightly brush my shoulder and the humming inside my body knots together and zips around like a bumblebee on crack.
I casually turn down the heat on the stove, like that’s the reason I’m suddenly a human vibrator, and go back to stirring. Levi goes back to screwing.
I’m thinking about bell peppers.
He brushes against me again, except this time his forearm grazes my breast and my body immediately goes wild like I’m some love-starved teenager and the humming dives low in my belly and the stove gets hotter and my breaths get shallow and suddenly bell peppers are the sexiest vegetable on earth.
From the corner of my eye, I catch his Adam’s apple bobbing with a nervous swallow, which can only mean one thing. The boob brush was an accident.
If he had been trying to cop a feel with his Hulkish forearm, I could have responded with some kind of snarky “you’re a pervert” comment. But it wasn’t on purpose and somehow that makes it sexier and now the cracked-out bumblebee is buzzing in my nether regions and my hands are starting to tingle and why the HELL is this stove so hot?
I turn the burner down another notch and take a slow, deep breath. I have a boyfriend. A great boyfriend. So this sexual frustration I feel around Levi is nothing to get my bee-loving panties in a bunch about. I just need to calm down.
Levi lowers his arm for a moment, his eyes still on the alarm, and stretches his neck.
Ah, the neck stretch. The universal sign of stress. Well at least I’m not alone in my frustration. My hot, distracting, pants-are-so-inconvenient frustration.
Who said anything about pants? I am NOT thinking about pants—or lack thereof. Damn you, bell peppers!
I toss the wooden spoon to the side and move back to the counter where the threat of being turned on by a handyman or, you know, a sautéed vegetable is much less severe.
I bite back a groan. What was I thinking, living under the same roof as Levi? There’s no way I’ll survive the summer.
Hell, I can barely survive breakfast.