JUST
ONE YEAR
(A
standalone)
Release
date: 2/24/2020
From
New York Times bestselling author Penelope Ward, comes a new
standalone novel.
Excerpt
Reveal:
Copyright
© 2019
By
Penelope Ward
I
stormed up the stairs and headed straight to my old room—his room.
But
when
I got to the top of the stairwell, I swallowed the words I’d been
prepared to
unleash.
The unexpected sight of Caleb doing pull-ups met my eyes. He used a
bar
affixed
to the top of the door to lift himself up. He wore a T-shirt that
rode up each
time
he rose. His hard abs were now staring me in the face, ripples of
carved muscle.
He
had black wrist wraps on. He’d turned my old room into a home gym.
He
was a bastard—but there was no denying he was beautiful.
I
cleared my throat. “Did my father give you permission to put that
thing in
the
doorway?”
The
house shook as he landed on his feet. “Well, hello, Teagan. Amazing
how
easy
it is to walk up the stairs, isn’t it? He grabbed a towel and wiped
the sweat off
his
forehead. “And yes, in fact, your father did give me permission to
put the bar up.”
I
came out with it. “You think you know it all, don’t you? Who are
you?”
He
glared at me. “Who am I? Well, nice of you to ask, Teagan.” He
threw his
towel
down on the desk. “You’ve had no interest in getting to know me
from the
moment
I walked in the door. But since you finally did inquire… Hi, I’m
Caleb Yates.
Happy
to be here. I have no clue what I’m doing with my life and have a
somewhat
crappy
family situation back in England. So, I came to a strange country for
the first
time
to get away for a bit. I miss my mum, but the good news is, I’ve
just moved into
Wow.
“That’s
a bit harsh, don’t you think?”
He
came closer, and the smell of his cologne mixed with sweat
was…interesting.
Couldn’t say it was a bad thing, that’s for sure.
“You
didn’t have to write me a snooty email, Teagan. You can come talk
to me
if
I do something to piss you off. If you write me emails like that when
I’m right
upstairs,
that’s the kind of response you’re going to get, each and every
time.”
He
had a point. The email was a bit cowardly of me. Yet I’d still
managed to
convince
myself it was a good idea. He was right. Anything I needed to say to
him, I
should
be able to say to his face. Quite honestly, the benefit of that was
also his
face—getting
to look at it, I mean. It turned out, looking at him was a lot more
fun
than
avoiding eye contact had been. Thank goodness he can’t read my mind
right
now.
Seeing
that he actually seemed angry as opposed to amused caused me to
change
my tune—that and perhaps his scent going straight to my head as it
followed
my
mind right into the gutter.
He
held out his hand. “Give it to me.”
I
looked down at my empty hands. “Give you what?”
“The
stick in your arse. Take it out and give it to me.”
I
crinkled my forehead. “What?”
He
wiggled his fingers. “Come on. Hand it over.”
Genuinely
curious as to where he was going with this, I motioned with my
hand,
pretending to remove the imaginary stick from my derriere and
throwing it
over
to him.
He
pretended to catch it, then let it weigh him down. “It’s bigger
than I
thought.”
Looking around he said, “I’m gonna find a space for it. Hang on.”
I
laughed, against my better judgment. He shoved the imaginary stick
under
his
bed and wiped fake dust off his hands.
“Now
that that’s out of the way, why don’t we start fresh?”
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The
beginning of my sophomore year in college was off to a rough
start.
On the first day of orientation, I had an altercation with an infuriating British dude in a campus bathroom.
(The ladies’ room was out of order. So, I used the men’s room. Don’t judge.)
I got home later that night and realized that the foreign student we were expecting to rent a room in my parents’ house was allergic to our cat.
So, the spare room went to someone else: Caleb—the British guy from the men’s room.
And so it began…my love-hate story with Caleb Yates. Or was it hate-love in that order?
The guy knew how to push every one of my buttons.
Sometimes I’d email him to express my aggravation and disdain.
He’d actually rewrite my own words and send them back to me.
That was the type of infuriating person Caleb was.
So frustrating.
And…
Sometimes incredibly funny and endearingly sweet.
And hot.
He eventually grew on me, and Caleb soon became one of my best friends that year.
Too bad he was headed back to England soon, so nothing could happen between us—for so many reasons.
I definitely couldn't fall in love with him, especially since all we had was just one year.
On the first day of orientation, I had an altercation with an infuriating British dude in a campus bathroom.
(The ladies’ room was out of order. So, I used the men’s room. Don’t judge.)
I got home later that night and realized that the foreign student we were expecting to rent a room in my parents’ house was allergic to our cat.
So, the spare room went to someone else: Caleb—the British guy from the men’s room.
And so it began…my love-hate story with Caleb Yates. Or was it hate-love in that order?
The guy knew how to push every one of my buttons.
Sometimes I’d email him to express my aggravation and disdain.
He’d actually rewrite my own words and send them back to me.
That was the type of infuriating person Caleb was.
So frustrating.
And…
Sometimes incredibly funny and endearingly sweet.
And hot.
He eventually grew on me, and Caleb soon became one of my best friends that year.
Too bad he was headed back to England soon, so nothing could happen between us—for so many reasons.
I definitely couldn't fall in love with him, especially since all we had was just one year.
Penelope
Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and #1 Wall Street Journal
bestselling author of contemporary romance.
She
grew up in Boston with five older brothers and spent most of her
twenties as a television news anchor. Penelope resides in Rhode
Island with her husband, son, and beautiful daughter with autism.
With
over two million books sold, she is a 21-time New York Times
bestseller and the author of over twenty novels. Her books have been
translated into over a dozen languages and can be found in bookstores
around the world.
Instagram:
@penelopewardauthor
