Holly Jolly Hook-Up

Gigi Love

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

More From Gigi Love

Thank You

Copyright

Chapter One

Greyson

My mother plays the same Christmas album every year to decorate the tree.

I don’t remember the name of it, but it’s something like Spirit of Christmas or Celebration of Christmas and it’s basically a mixtape of Christmas classics.

When I was a kid, I used to sneak over and replay Frosty the Snowman as many times as I could before Mom noticed. Looking back on it, I’m pretty sure she knew right away. She just let me feel like I got away with something.

It feels different decorating the tree this year.

I am back home from college for the first time in five months, and even though it’s not that long of a time compared to the span of my life, it feels… a little foreign.

I didn’t sleep well in my own bed last night.

Somehow, the hard dorm room mattress feels more comfortable to me now.

And the sounds are different when I sleep, too. I’ve gotten used to the sound of kids my age laughing or yelling at all times of the night. Now, at home? Well, everything seems so freaking quiet.

I’m home for a couple of weeks, though.

I suspect I will settle back into my routine here just as I am ready to head back to school.

Sounds perfect.

I distract myself from my tiredness and weird feelings with Christmas.

I help Mom with the tree and then I offer to run into town when she needs more lights.

Maybe getting out of the house will help me feel more… at home.

I’ve always loved Red Valley.

Growing up in this tiny Nebraska town was like growing up on that snowflake where the Grinch lived. It’s tiny and quirky, and the second the calendar turns to Black Friday, the whole city flips into a candy cane wonderland.

I used to love it.

But walking into town now, seeing Red’s City Cafe, seeing the garland and the tinsel and the life-sized Nativity, I still can’t help but feel like I’m not home anymore.

I want to get back to that.

But I’m not a high school kid anymore.

I’m not the same kid who lived under that snow-piled roof those months ago.

I take the basket outside of Red Valley’s Corner Grocery and push it over the ice into the store. It’s sweltering inside, so I start shedding layers as I curve through the aisles.

I would have gone to Red Valley’s Hardware Store, but they closed early to go caroling.

Ms. Emily, the cashier, waves to me as I walk inside.

“Greyson, you’re home for the holidays?” she asks. “You look so grown up!”

I feel the heat of embarrassment fill my cheeks. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you. Are you having a nice holiday?”

She slides a few cans across the scanner. “Oh, absolutely. My mom’s taking a cruise this Christmas, so our plans are a little up in the air. Can you imagine? A cruise at Christmas? Who ever heard of such a thing? But no matter. I have plenty of baking to do and the store is just busier than ever. Plus, I’m riding in the Christmas parade this year, so no rest for the weary!”

I nod. I don’t know how she managed to get all those words out with barely any breath.

“That’s great. I’m glad to hear you’re doing well,” I tell her. “You don’t happen to have more warm white Christmas lights, do you?”

She turns away from me to print out a receipt. Ms. Emily points toward the back of the store. “Should be a couple more boxes in the back, hon.”

“Thank you,” I tell her, and steer my cart toward the direction of the lights.

The store is as busy as she said.

I wish I’d worn a hat because I bump into three more people who know me or Mom or Dad or all of us on one aisle alone.

They ask the same questions.

How’s school?

Grades are good?

Parents are good?

Seeing anyone?

Talked to Paislee?

Those last two sting.

I tell them that I am “focusing on classes” but that is a lie.

The truth is that I haven’t so much as talked to a girl on campus. Unless it was to borrow a pen or something stupid.

Most people in town know the story of Greyson Flat and Paislee King. The high school sweethearts. Homecoming King and Queen. The jock and the band geek. She was an elite gymnast. I played the trombone.

She was everything to me.

Until… she wasn’t.

I start to charge toward the Christmas lights, desperate to get away from more questions, and I must be going faster than I realize, because…

CRASH.

I slam into a display of reindeer-themed cereal boxes.

I close my eyes as I hear box after box hit the ground.

I open my eyes and see all eyes on me.

Just perfect.

By trying to avoid the wandering eyes of the town, I have managed to make a huge spectacle of myself.

I shrug my shoulders and begin to pick up the boxes off the ground.

“Greyson?”

Her voice is the salt in my very, very open wound.

I don’t want to stand up.

If I stand up, I will have to look at her. And if I have to look at her, then that means that I have to be hurt all over again.

I have to remember my heartbreak.

I have to remember how much I miss her.

“Greyson?” she asks again, but she doesn’t wait for me to stand up for her. Instead, Paislee kneels down and joins me on the grocery store floor, surrounded by reindeer cereal.

The least I can do is look at her.

So, I do.

And it’s like I have been punched in the gut.

Why does Paislee have to be so goddamn beautiful?

Why does she have to have those clear blue eyes? That curly dark hair that I once combed my fingers through? Those big, beautiful lips?

And that’s when I feel it.

Looking at Paislee, the world seems to click into place.

Now, it feels like home.

She has always felt like home.

And that makes everything so much worse.

“Paislee,” I whisper to her, scared for myself.

Because I know that nothing has changed between us.

I can’t have her.

No matter how much I want her.

Chapter Two

Paislee

I fell in love with Greyson Flat when I was fourteen.

He was the quiet kid in the band that sat behind me in homeroom.

“I like your backpack,” I told him on the first day of our freshman year.

It was just a standard dark blue backpack, but he had made a checker print pattern on the straps with Sharpie.

“Thanks,” he said, practically whispering, his voice was so quiet. “I was just doodling.”

“Can you do mine?” I ask him.

He blinked at me and said, “Sure. Okay.”

I’d known Greyson for most of my life, but that was the first day that I had actually spoken to him. He was an only child. His parents were pharmacists. He had one friend, Castle Sealey, who played with him in the band, too.

We kept talking.

And I slowly realized that Greyson was actually really attractive, and no one seemed to realize it.

He had this sandy-brown hair that swooped across his forehead. And when he smiled, his whole face lit up. And his voice was particularly deep when he wasn’t whispering.

The first time he kissed me, it was at Christmas.

We met up at Red Valley’s Christmas parade and there was mistletoe hanging over us.

“This is so cliche,” I told him.

“You’re right,” he agreed.

He took my hand and dragged me away from the mistletoe, and parked us right beside the big sleigh display outside of his family’s pharmacy.

“Is this better?” he asked.

I nodded and he gave me my very first kiss.

The rest is history.

And now, here he is, crouched on the grocery floor with me.

Greyson looks older, somehow. It’s been six months since our breakup, 24 weeks almost to the day, 2 colleges 2 states apart, and 10,000 tears shed.

But it might as well be a lifetime.

I’ve never not known what Greyson’s life looked like. I was always right there at the center of it. I knew the streets he walked and the house he went home to every night.

But now?

Now, Greyson is a stranger.

And that is so depressing.

“How are you?” I ask.

The question is so lame.

The real questions I want to ask are the ones that I wouldn’t dare to say out loud.

Are you still in love with me?

Do you miss me?

Are you seeing anyone?

Is your heart as broken as mine?

Before Greyson can answer, Mr. Dalloway, the manager, turns a corner and says, “Well, look at you two lovebirds. Making a mess back here, I see. Tommy, will you come help please? Greyson and Paislee knocked over all the cereal!”

I stand up, feeling very much in the spotlight.

“Oh, I didn’t–” I start to say.

“It was just me,” Greyson says. “She didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“Good to see you two together again,” Mr. Dalloway says. “Let me know if you need anything. The, uhh, family planning aisle is stocked.”

I could die on the spot.

Greyson has gone totally red and I can’t find any words.

Thankfully, Mr. Dalloway does us both a favor and leaves.

I turn to Greyson, and I know that I am going to need to be the one to speak up. I was always the more forward of the two of us.

Greyson’s always been shy.

Quiet.

Too good for me.

Part of me always felt like I needed to shield him from everything bad.

And I wish that I could have shielded him from the bad thing that was, well, me.

“Man, this town is smaller than I remember,” I tease, trying to make light of the situation.

Greyson nods. “Yes, too damn small.”

“Would you maybe want to sneak away and get a cup of hot chocolate with me? Maybe in the park somewhere? Away from prying eyes?” I ask.

I hold my breath as I wait for an answer.

I expect him to say no.

Part of me wants him to say no.

What’s the point of spending time together? Only to be ripped apart all over again?

“Sure,” he says. “I have to get a box of Christmas strands for my mom, but I can meet you in a couple of hours.”

I nod, a feeling of cold panic shooting down my body. “That would be great. I’ll meet you by the gazebo with the goods.”

He gives me a small laugh and I feel like my whole body is ready to melt.

Every atom in my body is still in love with Greyson Flat.

And I want every minute I can get with him.

Even if it breaks my heart all over again.

Chapter Three

Greyson

This is a huge mistake.

This is a huge mistake.

This is a huge, motherfucking mistake.

This litany keeps repeating in my head as I help my mother string lights on the tree.

It repeats when she asks me what’s wrong and I tell her that I’m okay.

It repeats when I lie and tell her that I’m going to meet my friend Castle for dinner.

It repeats when I throw my coat over my body and walk through the snow to the empty park.

Completely empty except for her.

Paislee.

The girl who broke my heart.

My best friend.

My whole world.

She sat inside the gazebo, snowflakes dusting her hair, holding two cups of warm hot chocolate in her mittens.

“I saved you a seat,” she says, smiling.

I shiver and sit beside her. “I don’t think… anyone… will bother us out here.”

“Are you too cold?” she asks, concerned. “We can go inside if it’s too much. Maybe… actually, I have no idea where we could go.”

I shake my head. “No, this is fine. The cold is good… for our skin?”

I’m babbling.

I’m nervous and I don’t know what to say to her.

What’s off limits?

What’s too much?

Why are we here at all?

Paislee hands me my cup and I welcome it. I need something to fill the awkward spaces that I’m making in our conversation, so I take a sip.

“So, tell me, how are you?” she asks me.

There doesn’t seem to be a nervous bone in her body.

No awkward side glances.

No nervous ticks.

No guilt, either.

She has no problem looking at me straight-on with a big smile on her face.

And that makes me feel a twinge of anger.

She’s the one who broke my heart. Shouldn’t she feel bad about that?

I shake my head.

I’m reading too much into her confidence. Paislee is always confident. That’s who she is.

It has nothing to do with guilt or no guilt.

She’s just… Paislee.

“I am…”

What? What am I exactly?

“I am doing okay,” I tell her, opting for a neutral response.

“Do you like school?” she asks me, digging deeper. “Is your roommate as terrible as mine?”

I laugh. “My roommate is Castle, so he has his moments. But school is really good, actually. I like my classes. Band is good, too. I mean, we don’t have a huge stadium like I would at a state school, but it’s really fun. I feel… good.”

Paislee nods, and she starts to kind of rock in her seat.

I desperately want to know what she’s thinking.

What she’s feeling.

“That’s great,” she tells me. “That’s so great.”

“How about you?” I ask her.

Paislee turns to look at me. “I’m not that great. My roommate steals my food. I’m at the gym all of the time and class is really hard. I can’t really sleep. I still manage to get lost every day. And most of all… most of all… God, I just fucking miss you, Greyson.”

I feel a surge of emotion flood my body.

On the one hand, I’m relieved.

I know where she stands now. I know how she feels about me after all of these months of wondering.

On the other hand, I’m pissed off.

“You… you left me,” I tell her, leaning into that anger. “We had a plan, Pais. For years, it was going to be me and you at Darby University. You were the one that told me it would be perfect for gymnastics. But when Hartford came along and offered you a scholarship, you took it without even talking to me. Do you know what that did to me? Really, do you have any idea?”

Paislee started to cry.

Soft tears fall down her face.

“I know,” she says. I see her hand start to move toward mine, but then retreats back to her own knee. “I know that what I did was terrible. I think about it constantly, Greyson. What I would do differently. I wouldn’t have said yes to Hartford. Or I would have asked you to come with me. I would have been honest from the very start. You are the most important thing. The absolute most important thing.”

I stand up, not knowing what to do, but needing to do something.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” I tell her, standing against the railing, looking out at the snow.

Paislee doesn’t say anything for a moment.

I hear her crying behind me.

“I just wanted to say that I’m still in love with you,” she says quietly. “And that I want to be with you. Even if I can’t.”

I can’t just stand here quietly.

But I can’t open my heart back up to her, either.

So, what now?

I turn back to look at her. “You know that I love you, too, Paislee. You know that I’ve never stopped wanting to be with you for a single minute. But you broke my heart. And you left. So, you’re right, we can’t be together.”

This only makes her cry more.

The last time I saw Paislee cry was the night that she told me she was going away.

That she had changed the plans.

I cried that night, too.

And then we held each other for a long time.

And the holding led to more crying.

And the crying led to kissing.

And the kissing led to sex in her pink bedroom.

Having break-up sex didn’t fix anything, but I have replayed that night in my head on repeat ever since.

Kissing her now wouldn’t be logical either.

But my heart is already broken.

And she’s already gone.

So… would it really hurt us any worse?

I stop thinking about it.

I cross the gazebo over to her. I drop to my knees in front of her. Pause. Stare. And then, I collide with her.

The rush of want pours through our bodies.

Six months of craving each other.

Breaking out of us right here, right now.

I kiss her like I might break her.

She practically inhales me.

Our hands are desperate for each other, but it’s so cold and there are so many clothes and I just want all of her right this very moment.

I break apart from her and grab her hand.

“Come with me,” I demand. “Right now.”

Chapter Four

Paislee

I follow Greyson through the park.

The snow falls on our faces.

Behind me, I hear Frosty the Snowman ringing through the speakers of the town.

We walk away from it all.

He leads me toward the greenhouse which is draped in snow.

And my mind is in tunnel vision.

All I can think about is Greyson, right here, right now.

I don’t dream past here.

I don’t reflect back on our history.

For tonight, Greyson is all mine.

Once inside the greenhouse, we finally find warmth. I tear off my coat as Greyson tears off his.

My hat, my gloves, my shoes, gone.

We strip as quickly as we can.

Until finally, it’s Greyson and me, totally bare in front of one another.

“You’ve been working out,” I say without thinking.

I see muscle definition that had never been there before.

His arms are stronger.

His chest is broader.

And I just want to trace my tongue along the indents of his brand new buffness.

“And you,” he says, marveling at me. “You are stronger than ever.”

“More flexible, too,” I mention, flirting with him.

“Get over here,” he orders me.

And as I walk over to him, he lunges for me.

He hooks his arms around my waist, lifts me into the air and we are finally skin-to-skin.

I gasp.

He buries his mouth into my neck.

And I am wholly aware of my tits pressed against his body.

My nipples are aching.

The entirety of me is in a complete state of want for him.

Greyson walks us over to a table covered in a thick, wool blanket.

He sits me down and takes another look at me.

“Have you…” he asks me. “Have you had sex with anyone else?”

I shake my head. “No, no, of course not. Have you?”

He cups my face in his hands. “Absolutely not.”

I sigh. I bring my lips to his and slip my tongue inside of his mouth. Our tongues meet and he tastes sweet like hot chocolate.

We move carefully, even though I want him insanely this very instant.

Even though I have kissed him and held him a million times before, tonight feels different. It feels… new. Not in a bad way, just in an unfamiliar one.

It’s exciting.

And a little scary.

But this is Greyson.

This is me and Greyson.

We were meant for this.

Greyson doesn’t waste another moment. He rubs himself against my pussy, making me wet before he enters me. I feel my body respond as I kiss him, moaning softly into him.

Finally, he presses himself inside of me and my jaw comes undone.

I didn’t realize how much I needed this.

How much I missed his body against mine. Inside of mine.

I start to grind into him as he pumps in and out of me.

Already, I feel him brushing against my G-spot. I crave more of it.

“Say my name,” I beg him.

“Paislee,” he growls, giving me a swift, light bite of my lip.

I moan back. “God, Greyson, I fucking love you.”

“I fucking love you, too,” he tells me. “And I want you to ride me.”

I love hearing him talk dirty.

I’m about to tell him “gladly,” when he grabs me by the waist and quickly twists our positions. Now, he’s the one sitting on the table and I am perched on top of him, my pussy baring down on his cock.

I push his back flat against the table and I start to circle my hips over him.

Greyson moans and I feel a surge of pleasure at the sound of his.

He takes his hand and starts to massage my clit which only makes me ride him harder.

I buck as I move over him, and with his free hand, he twists my nipple, driving me wild.

“Oh, God, Greyson,” I cry out. “I’m going to come.”

He leans up and presses his mouth to mine.

I cry out, leaning into the orgasm.

And Greyson comes with me, moaning louder than I’ve ever heard him moan before.

And just like that, it’s over.

God, I don’t want it to be over.

I kiss Greyson beneath his ear. “That was amazing.”

“It really was,” he says, running his fingers through my hair.

“So… what now?” I ask him as I slide my body off of his, settling beside him.

The ball has to be in his court now.

I opened up to him and told him how I felt… what I want.

If this is the last time, then he’s going to have to tell me.

And if it’s not? Well, he has to meet me halfway.

I hold my breath as I wait for his response.

“Well, that was incredible,” he tells me. “And… I’m thinking… you and I are going to be home until New Year’s right?”

“Right,” I say.

I think I know where he is going with this.

I pray that I know where he is going with this.

“We could… be together… until we leave. If you want,” he says, testing the water.

My heart flutters in my chest. 

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. 

For a few weeks, Greyson will be mine again. 

And maybe, who knows? 

Maybe even more.

I kiss his shoulder. “Greyson, I would love that.”

“And then, when we go back to school, we end it,” he says. “I mean, what’s the difference, right? We’re hurting either way. We may as well enjoy each other now, while we have each other.”

I deflate, a little.

I was hoping he would say we could try long distance.

I was hoping he would say we would never be without each other again.

But, I will take this.

For now.

For now, this is enough.

Chapter Five

Greyson

The next couple of weeks fly past us, no matter how hard Paislee and I try to slow them down.

She and I spend stolen moments in each other’s arms, having sex in our cars, in the greenhouse, in the shower.

At night, when my parents fall asleep, I sneak out of my house and run through the city to her. I climb into her window, and sleep with her until just before the sun comes up.

For the first week, I am high on her. 

I can’t kiss her enough. 

Can’t love her enough.

And I realize, slowly, that maybe I was wrong.

Maybe this isn’t helping.

Because having her for these weeks only makes me want her more, all the time, forever.

I don’t want to leave her again.

I don’t know if I can.

I think through all these things on the morning of Christmas Eve, holding Paislee in my arms, waiting for her to wake up.

Last night, we snuck out to look at the lights on Main Street at 2:00 a.m. when no one would catch us. I asked her to dance with me in the empty street. 

“I could do this every night,” she told me. 

“Sneak around and play Footloose in the snow?” I teased. 

“No,” she said. “Just be here. With you.” 

It pained me to hear it. 

It still does.

She rouses in the most beautiful way.

Her eyelashes flitter open. She stretches her arms overhead.

“Morning, ba–, I mean, Greyson,” she says.

She was about to call me baby.

She said it a few times before during sex, but otherwise, she avoids it.

I avoid it, too.

Just like how I avoid telling her that I love her.

Even though I couldn’t love her anymore.

“Good morning,” I tell her. “Slept well?”

“Yes,” she says, cuddling into me. “Let’s just stay here all day.”

“It’s Christmas Eve,” I tell her. “We have so much to do.”

“I know,” she sighs. “I have family parties and traditions and too many hours without you.”

Something inside of me hurts.

My heart, maybe.

My soul, possibly.

“I think… I think that we should maybe stop,” I tell her, feeling whatever was breaking inside of me now break fully.

Paislee sits up and stares quietly into my eyes. “Wait… why? I thought…”

“I know,” I tell her. “But, I’m starting to… attach. I’m starting to want you too much again. And nothing’s changed. You’re still not mine. And I want like hell for you to be, so before my heart breaks anymore, I need to say goodbye.”

Paislee lets a few tears fall down her face. I take my thumbs and wipe them away from her face.

“I just don’t see another way,” I tell her, feeling my heart break.

I can see in her eyes that she is looking for a solution she can’t find. 

She wants to fight this. 

And honestly, so do I.

But there are no answers here.

She nods. “Okay. Okay.”

I kiss her for what may be one last time.

I tell myself it’s the last time.

Because I can’t open my heart anymore.

Not again.

“Goodbye, Paislee,” I whisper.

She moves her mouth to speak, but all she could get out was, “Greyson.”

And I leave before I can talk myself out of it.

I leave before I can beg for her back.

* * *

I have the worst Christmas of my entire life.

I’m numb. 

On auto-pilot. 

Trying to drown out the small voice in my head that is telling me that I’m making another huge mistake.

I go with my parents to my grandparents’ house for Christmas Eve.

I feel dead inside as I open and give gifts.

I feel like an asshole, answering their questions in generic, one-word answers. I hope they think that I am just a moody college kid. I hope they don’t sense my brokenness.

I can’t fall asleep and every inch of my body wants to run to Paislee, to sleep beside her, to smell the sweet eucalyptus smell of her shampoo on her hair.

But I don’t.

Instead, I walk downstairs and steal a bottle of vodka from my parents’ liquor cabinet. I drink it until I fall asleep.

The next morning, I stash the evidence under my bed, waking with a huge hangover.

This isn’t like me. I’m not normally even a drinker. And I am absolutely feeling that this morning. In fact, I may even vomit.

It’s Christmas Day.

Bah humbug.

Holly freaking jolly.

I feel like shit.

I splash cold water on my face in the bathroom before I stumble downstairs.

I smell bacon cooking in the kitchen.

And then I hear a knock on my front door.

“Can someone get it?” Mom yells.

“Got it,” I yell back.

I open the door to see a very fresh-faced Paislee looking back at me.

My body instantly relaxes when I see her.

And then I remember that I probably smell like vodka and my hair is an absolute disaster. I’m also wearing my dad’s ugly Christmas sweater that he gifted me. 

Awesome.

She’s holding a plate full of cookies.

“Shouldn’t you have left those for Santa?” I ask her.

She smiles. “I made extra.”

“Mom, I’ll be right back,” I call back to the kitchen. 

Whatever this is, I hope to rip the bandage off quick.

I step outside with her and close the door behind me. “What are you doing here? Oh, and Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas and I want you back,” she says.

I take a deep breath. “Paislee–”

“No, hear me out,” she says. “Weekends. You come to me and then I come to you. We switch off. And then, next year, I will come to Darby. The gymnastics is just as good there. I don’t need Hartford.”

Bandage officially ripped. 

Why is she doing this to me?

Why is she trying to give me hope?

Leave Hartford?

How could that even work?

She grabs my hands and whispers, “We can do this. We can make this work.”

I search her eyes and I see that she’s sincere.

“But… are you sure?” I ask her. “Hartford was what you wanted. It’s a new tier of athletics. You said so yourself.”

“No,” she says, shaking her head. “You are what I want. And it’s not like I’m giving up my dream. I’m just rerouting it. I can have you and everything that I want. We don’t have to lose each other again.”

It sounds possible.

If she’s really willing to leave Hartford, we can make it work in the meantime. 

My head is reeling. 

I lean into the hope. 

I start to dream again.

For once, there’s a deadline to our separation.

“And you promise? You promise not to change your mind again? I mean, how can I trust you?” I ask her.

She nods. “I know, I hurt you. But I made a mistake. I won’t do that again. I promise. And I know that’s hard to believe, but you can trust me. Like you always have.”

I have to take a leap of faith.

If I want her, that’s what I have to do.

And I do want her. 

More than anything.

So, I have to trust her.

And on what better day than Christmas?

I smile. “Okay. Okay, let’s do this.”

Paislee smiles so big that I feel like it will crack her face wide open. From out of her pocket, she pulls out a small branch of mistletoe.

“Too cliche,” I tell her, reminiscing.

She grabs my hand and leads me out toward the tree in our front yard. It’s not a Christmas tree. It’s just plain maple, covered in bright, white snow. But it’s perfect.

I pull her close to me and I kiss her like it’s our very first.

Finally, Paislee is all mine.

And I will never let her go again.

“Merry Christmas, Paislee King,” I tell her, holding her close.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” she says, her cheeks turning pink.

And I kiss her once more for good measure.

More From Gigi Love

Want more Christmas romance?

He is her little brother’s best friend. She’s his first love. What could go wrong?

Read Her Holiday Hook-Up today.

Love sexy, steamy college romances?

Gigi Love’s Steamy Football U series is all about hot football players finding love. What more could you want?

Steamy Football U Titles

Her Filthy Linebacker (Steamy Football U #1)

Her Brutal Tight End (Steamy Football U #2)

Her Cocky Quarterback (Steamy Football U #3)

Her Striking Kicker (Steamy Football U #4)

Or, you can read the whole series here.

Want more sexy football players? Meet the Trist Brothers.

The Trist brothers are broody, sexy football legends dealing with family drama, football legacy, and of course, love.

The Trist Brothers Titles

Break Me (The Trist Brothers #1)

Claim Me (The Trist Brothers #2)

Tempt Me (The Trist Brothers #3)

Want Me (The Trist Brothers #4)

Thank You

Thank you very much for reading!

I love creating these short and steamy romances for you… and love that you love them!

Please consider leaving me a review on one of the following platforms. This helps get my book to more viewers and helps boost my sales to allow me to write even more. Thank you!

Amazon (most helpful!)

Bookbub

Goodreads

Copyright

Copyright © 2022 by Gigi Love

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.