Blurb:
Originally published as part of the Campus
Cravings bundle, Winning Bracket is now available on its own with a BRAND NEW
bonus epilogue/short story!
A sexy bet on a basketball tournament
challenges nerdalicious Edwin and party-boy Ollie to change their relationship
status from frenemies to lovers.
Oliver Marshall has been a sexy pain in
Edwin Schultz’s side since freshman year. Now seniors and competing dorm
resident advisors, the two are in constant strife over noise levels and study
hours. However, deep down, Edwin’s been nursing a painful crush on Ollie for
years. When Ollie proposes a bet on a basketball tournament, Edwin seizes the
chance to put his inconvenient feelings for Ollie behind him once and for all.
Edwin’s not the only one suffering a case
of unwanted attraction—Ollie’s been running from his feelings for Edwin for a
long time. He doesn’t understand how someone who drives Ollie so crazy with his
adherence to rules can be the same guy who makes his pulse pound. In fact,
Ollie’s never been so eager to lose a bet in his life.
As the challenge becomes a hot bedroom
battle to avoid real emotions, the two “frenemies” must change their
definitions of losing to win a shot at lasting love.
Buy links
Excerpt:
Ollie kept looking at him, dark eyes
patient and kind, like he really did care about Edwin and Edwin’s GPA. The dark
slashes of his eyebrows were a contrast to his creamy skin and heart-shaped
mouth, offsetting his elfin features with a masculine edge that had always
intrigued Edwin.
Edwin exhaled a long, you-win sigh. “Maybe
I’ll try not to go all RA Buzzkill while the games are on.”
“Awesomesauce! You should come grab some
pizza too.” Ollie grinned widely, showcasing a row of perfectly white, straight
teeth. Having an orthodontist dad had its perks—high limit credit cards and a
gorgeous smile. “And you should do the bracket challenge!”
“For what reason?” Edwin refused to be
dazzled by Ollie’s smile. Or charmed by Ollie’s attempts to rearrange the
English language. If he wasn’t adding “-ie” sounds to perfectly good nouns, he was
coining his own adjectives. Like “awesomesauce.” Ridiculous word.
“For fun.” Ollie snorted like Edwin had
asked an absurd question. Like randomly picking game-winners from an array of
schools Edwin had never heard of was the best way to spend Sunday. “I’ve got
some great prizes lined up.”
“I don’t need a prize.”
“Oh come on. We could bet.” Ollie’s eyes
sparkled. “Like if my final-four bracket beats yours, you host the watch
party.”
“Dream on.” Edwin tried to ignore the
feeling of intrigue curling low in his gut.
“Oh come on, Eddie. Think about what would
happen if you won! Isn’t there something you want from me?”
You have no idea. Really, none. Edwin
had spent the last three years being very, very careful to hide even a hint of
“something” from the too-perceptive Ollie. This year had been the worst. Ever
since August…
And okay, he was not going to think about
August right then. Not with Ollie sitting on the bed looking all eager. Like
he’d enjoy nothing more than making Edwin’s dreams come true, though Edwin knew
that was far from the case.
Edwin wasn’t a jock, he wasn’t a party guy,
he wasn’t tall, he wasn’t cute—he was nothing like the guys Ollie crushed on.
No, Ollie was a lit firecracker, and Edwin knew better than to grab on and hope
the bang wouldn’t explode in his face.
“I don’t know anything about the teams—no
point in doing random guesses.”
“No point? The whole point of the
tournament is random guesses! Grady won our floor’s pool last year by picking
all dog mascots to advance and all cat mascots to lose. I kept track of the
teams the whole season, and I came in second. There’s no way to predict which
big-time teams are going to choke.”
“Choke?”
Ollie’s hands grabbed at his own throat,
his fingers curving like claws, his eyes crossing, his mouth emitting horribly
realistic gagging sounds. Right when Edwin started to get a bit worried, Ollie
dropped his hands and grinned. “You know. Choke. Whiff on their chances. Lose
even though everyone thought they’d win. But that’s the absolute best part of
March Madness—the Cinderella stories. The tiny teams that no one sees coming,
and they seize the moment!” Ollie’s hands grabbed at the air in front of him.
Like the moment was a real thing to seize. Like randomness and chaos were
things people should want.
“Cinderella stories?”
“Because they finally get a chance to go to
the big dance.” Ollie’s hands stopped moving. His face sagged. Like Edwin’s
lack of basketball IQ was zapping his energy. “Come on. You make some guesses,
and if you’re right, I’ll do whatever you want. And if you’re wrong—”
“Hold up. If I filled out a bracket and
mine beat yours, you’d do whatever I wanted? Like anything?”
“Sure.” Ollie shrugged, an insolent lift of
surprisingly wide shoulders inside a too-big shirt. “I mean not all day. But
sure, you want me to be a slave for an hour or something, I can take it.”
Ka-pow. The firecracker exploded, hot want
raining down on Edwin, sparking against his skin. Anything. Ollie-as-slave
images began to run on repeat in his brain, Ollie getting considerably less
clothing with each pass. Edwin could ask for anything, and it would just be a
joke to Ollie—a lark to be laughed over later, no more of a big deal than
opening up with a can of silly string or shorting his sheets every night for a
week.
Oh my God. Would it work? Could he use
something like this—a stupid bet on stupid basketball—to exorcise the Ollie
demons that had plagued him for years, all without having to admit how he felt
about Ollie?
Because while Ollie had been busy with the
jock-crush-of-the-month plan, Edwin had been hung up on Ollie. For three and a
half years. If a stupid bet could shake Edwin free, then it was worth having to
learn something about basketball.
“Okay,” he whispered.
“Yay!” Ollie clambered off the bed, springs
squeaking as he hit the floor. “You’ll see. This is going to be a great couple
of weeks! So what are we going to play for this week? If my bracket does better
by Sunday night, you send an email supporting the next watch party and you show
up. And if you win…”
“I want a kiss.” The words escaped Edwin
before he could call them back, before he could temper them with logic or
suppress them with reality.
Author Bio
Annabeth Albert grew up sneaking romance
novels under the bed covers. Now, she devours all subgenres of romance out in
the open—no flashlights required! When she’s not adding to her keeper shelf,
she’s a multi-published Pacific Northwest romance writer.
Emotionally complex, sexy, and funny
stories are her favorites both to read and to write. Annabeth loves finding
happy endings for a variety of pairings and is a passionate gay rights
supporter. In between searching out dark heroes to redeem, she works a
rewarding day job and wrangles two toddlers.
Represented by Saritza
Hernandez of the Corvisiero Literary Agency
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