Fighting Heart: Fighting Heart Erotic Bad Boy Romance Series Book 1 by Nicole Hamilton Read Free Book Online Page A

potential. The only thing he could do right now, was shut up.
    Ashley made a parting smile, and shifted off quickly out through the double-doors at the end of the narrow corridor. He watched after her, wondering how he’d managed to try so hard to help her and yet ended up in the doghouse.  To be honest, he felt like crap.  But he hadn’t given up. He’d taken the bad medicine in order to wait for another chance.  And he was determined to get it. A new idea was dawning on him. If he could get her to sit and listen to him - which was a big if- she might yet understand : he was going to make a clear offer to help her. He would offer to become someone she could bounce texts, questions and ideas off and to get her essays flowing with. He was going to be Ashley’s study buddy. That way she wouldn’t fail the course, and if they ended up getting a lot closer out of the arrangement, well that wasn’t going to be a bad thing now, was it?

Seven
    On reflection I think I gave Cody too hard a time. I was too tired for all the discussion and critique on William Blake, which wasn’t a great sign about my ability to cope with work and college. This was week 2, and our studies were still only on the baby stuff. How was I going to cope working thirty hours of late nights when we got onto the really deep stuff? I was going to have to find a magic formula to make my brain work twice as hard as the others. I needed Duracell for the mind. Cody was intelligent, and kind of a sweet guy, but I’d already decided he wasn’t for me. He had an answer for every question the Professors threw us, and from the way they talked about him, it sounded like they already had him down as a good writer. I heard he did performance poetry. Like I said, he wasn’t for me, though I had to say Cody was kind of easy on the eye, in an unusual way.
    I had only one more class the rest of the week, so I was able to put thoughts of study hassle, and boys, aside to get down to working hard and showing Purdy I was worth my salt. I was looking forward to the weekend, not so I could rest, but because the weekend was where the big tips would come from. In my quest to scoop enough cash to pay my fees, the weekends were going to really help. And Isabelle said the after-work parties at the weekends could make up for the slog the rest of the week. The after-work drinks were free, and it was some good downtime. That sounded great too. Anything to get my mind away from the pity-party.  But things don’t always go exactly to plan. But I should have known that already, right?
     
    By ten on clock on Friday night Purdy’s was full of the drum-hiss beat which was so loud it vibrated straight through your lungs and stomach. I was used to it by now and even kind of liked it. Being so busy when people were getting juiced up, cheering and dancing, kind of made me feel like I was part of something exciting. It made me feel alive. I was having to weave in and out of tables with trays of drinks and hot food held overhead, and there were plenty of people standing around drinking and laughing too. The bar staff and the kitchen crew were slogging hard. We had around three and a half hours to go before we could wind down at closing, though if the money was still rolling in I knew Reggie and Purdy would find it hard to resist extending the night for the customers.
    When table twelve first sat down I could see they were already well sassed. They looked like students who’d saved up all their cash for a blow-out, and Purdy’s was just the ticket for that. There were five guys, two with Beatles style mop top haircuts, one with a big quiff, and two with longer hippy hair. None of them looked in particularly great moods but I’d been there before myself – you want to go out and have a good time but there’s something in the atmosphere of your friends that says it’s going to be hard going. This kind of fug was all over the group. But I wanted tips and I wanted to give Purdy a story