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Kip Carmichael is no pretty boy.He's a rough. Dirty. Giant. Hair so unruly, and a beard so thick, his friends on the team call him Sasquatch.The first time Sasquatch lays eyes on Theodora "Teddy" Johnson across the keg at a party one night on Jock Row, she'd been relegated to the sidelines by her jock hungry "friends." Week-after-week, he watches beautiful but bashful Teddy getting overshadowed, and overlooked. Sasquatch finally broad shoulders his way through the crowd, offering to to be her hairy godmother. But the minute their eyes meet? He's a goner. Teaching her the RULES for winning a jock will be the easy part. Not falling in love with her is going to be a losing game.
THERE ARE NO DOUCHEBAGS IN THIS STORY.Well, there are, but they're not who this story is about.This story is about me-the coach's daughter.When I moved to Iowa to live with my dad, the university's take-no-prisoners wrestling coach, I thought transferring would be easy as pie-living with my father would be temporary, and he'd make sure his douchebag wrestlers left me alone.Wrong on both counts.A*HOLES ALWAYS COME OUT OF THE WOODWORK WHEN THE STAKES ARE HIGH.A bet is placed, and I'm on the table. After one humiliating night and too much alcohol, I find the last nice guy on campus. And when he offers to rent me his spare bedroom, I go all in. It's time for the nice guy to finish first.Midnight chats and spilling my problems turn to lingering touches. Lingering touches turn to more.And the ultimate good guy has the potential do more damage than any douchebags ever could.
MY FRIENDS WANT ME TO GET LAID.So much so that they plastered my ugly mug all over campus, in bold printed letters: Are you the lucky lady who's going to break our roommate's cherry?Him: socially awkward man with average-sized penis looking for willing sexual partner...The morons can't even spell. And the texts I've been receiving are what wet dreams are made of. But I'm not like these douchebags, no matter how hard they try to turn me into one.THIS ISN'T THE KIND OF ATTENTION I WANT.One text stands out from hundreds. One number I can't bring myself to block. She seems different. Hotter, even in black and white. However, after seeing her in person, I know she's not the girl for me. But my friends won't let up-they just don't get it. Douchebags or not, there's one thing they'll never understand: GIRLS DON'T WANT ME.Especially her.
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