Hiya, and welcome back! Today, we’re giving you a little taste of The Breakup Support Group by Cheyanne Young!
First, here’s a bit more about the book, and don’t forget to enter the giveaway at the end!
About the book
The Breakup Support GroupAuthor: Cheyanne Young
Publisher: Swoon Romance
Release date: November 22nd 2016
Genres: Young Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Purchase: Amazon UK | Amazon US
This post contains affiliate links, and using these will help contribute to running LiaToF.Add to TBR: Goodreads
After four years of first love bliss, Isla Rush just got dumped.
Any hope she has of winning her ex-boyfriend back is shattered when the town rezones her neighborhood, forcing her to spend senior year at a wealthy high school in the next town over.
With a broken heart consuming her soul, Isla can’t focus on anything, except maybe Emory Underwood—a ridiculously hot guy who dates a new girl almost every day. She can’t help but crush on him, even though it’s wrong.
When memories of her ex make her cry in second period, the school counselor sends Isla to a club that meets during lunch. The Break-Up Support Group is a collection of broken-hearted misfits who are all helping each other heal.
Just when Isla’s heart is finally on the mend, Emory shows up, forced to atone for all the broken hearts he’s caused over the years. While hiding her massive crush, she helps him understand the seriousness of breaking a heart.
In turn, Emory offers to help Isla get back on the dating scene by agreeing to be her fake date for the homecoming dance. Isla gladly accepts the ruse, because if anyone can make her into a desirable girlfriend, Emory can! There's just one small problem.
Isla's little crush on Emory might be exactly full blown. And a homecoming fake date with him could push her over the edge to possibly uttering the "L Word!"
Isla can't afford another heartbreak so soon after the last one. She will have to resist his charms, refuse to look into those dreamy eyes, and above all else, not make the mistake of letting him kiss her.
If only she hadn't let her guard down at the end of the night, under the light of her porch in a toe-curling kiss moment of weakness. And now, after months of Break-Up Support Group therapy, and with a heart fully on the mend, Isla has just handed it over to a guy who knows full well just how to break it.
The scent of coffee appears to my right, and I look over. My heart accelerates against my will. The gorgeous guy from the auditorium is looking right at me. He’s holding a brown and white coffee cup from the kiosk and a binder that he places on the desk to my right. “Good morning,” he says with a smile that is somehow sexy and terrifying at the same time.
“Good morning,” I hear myself saying. It’s pathetic how gorgeous he is. From the muscles in his forearms that flex when he reaches for the coffee cup, to the way his lips press against the plastic lid as he takes a sip—every inch of this boy makes my stomach hurt. It draws out feelings of deep depression for the human race as a whole. Thoughts of why can’t everyone be this hot? And how the hell am I supposed to pay attention in class when he’s just sitting there, being beautiful and smirking, relaxing in the plastic chair as if it were made for his body?
“Welcome to the first day of your last year of school,” Mr. Wang says, walking to the front of the classroom, his leather loafers clacking across the floor. “My name is Mr. Wang, and yes, it is hilarious. And no, there’s not a single Wang joke you can make that I haven’t already heard.” He chuckles, and I’m immediately brought back to real life and out of my creepy daydreams about the guy sitting next to me. Our teacher claps his hands together in front of his vest. “You will learn many great things in my class and rest assured, I will not let you enter into adulthood without knowing the correct version of your the possessive versus you’re the contraction.”
A few eye-rolling groans fill the room. Hot guy next to me takes another sip of his coffee, and I channel the energy from a Shakespeare poster on the wall. Oh, that I were the lid of that coffee, that I might touch those lips.