-- Guilty Pleasures Blog
"Crash into Me was an addictive read, one you could easily burn through in an afternoon. This is part of a series, but Ryder and Jamison’s story comes to a satisfying and sweet conclusion. I can’t wait to get my hands on the next in the series, and I’m anxious to find out which rocker it centers on."
- - Waves of Fiction Reviews
"As a rule, I have very little difficulty picking out which guy is gonna be my series favorite by the end of book one ... I'll admit, though, that I'm having a hard time picking my Shaken Dirty fella. Each of the boys is set to get their own story and I'm equally intrigued by all of them."
--Scandalicious Book Reviews
"What can I say about this book? Oh, my word, where do I start? I've read a lot of rock 'n' roll-themed books lately because, let's face it, rock gods are in right now. But let me tell you, this one just might be one of my favorites. From the characters to the storyline, this book had it all ... Loved this book." -- Examiner.com
“Hey, what are you thinking about?” Ryder paused the shopping cart by the bakery section, studied her carefully.
She almost blew him off. But then thought, what the hell? He’d asked, after all. “How much everything has changed in the last few years.”
Was he messing with her? “Don’t you think so?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged. Picked up a couple loaves of French bread and placed them in the basket. “It feels like we’ve been on tour forever. Now we just play bigger venues with more fans.”
“You’re the headliners now instead of just the opening band.”
“I get to sing. Get to play my music in front of people. Beyond that, the logistics don’t really matter.”
Oh, but they did. She gestured to the cart. “There used to be a time you couldn’t walk into a grocery store and afford whatever you wanted.”
“True.” He added an extra large pack of cinnamon rolls and a peach pie. “But I don’t think fresh fruit and vegetables are really that big of a splurge, are they?”
“What is it with you and peaches today?” She put the peach pie back, then headed for the juice and candy aisle. “If you want a pie, I’ll make one for you.”
He grinned. “I didn’t want to assume.”
“I’m the cook. It’s pretty much my job to make you whatever you want to eat.”
He scowled. “I wish you’d stop calling yourself that.”
“What?” she asked, mystified.
“You’re not the cook!”
He stepped closer, reached for her. And pulled her body into the shelter of his. “You’re Jamison! Just…Jamison.”
At first she forced herself to stay rigid, to stop her muscles from their natural inclination to curve themselves against him. But when he rested his chin on the top of her head and squeezed her tight, Jamison couldn’t keep up the distance. Despite her very best intentions, she found herself going soft against him.
“There you are,” he murmured, stroking an errant curl behind her ear. “I missed you.”
“I’ve been right here.”
“No. I was an ass and I chased you away. I promise, I won’t do that again.”
“You didn’t want me here. That’s your choice. I understand.” She started to pull back.
His arms tightened around her. “No, you don’t.” He reached over to the Jelly Belly display, snagged a bag of the root beer jellybeans that had gotten her her nickname so many years ago. Handed them to her with a grin that made her go all soft inside at the realization that he remembered that day. She’d been fourteen, and completely jealous that Ryder had planned a band trip out to the lake with a bunch of older girls and flat out refused to take her along.
To get him back, she’d filled the van with the only Jelly Belly flavor he truly hated—root beer. It had cost her close to fifty dollars but had been totally worth it to see his face as the brown beans poured out in all directions. Jared told her it had taken them months to get the smell out of the van—which had only made her victory sweeter.
“I always want you around, Jelly Bean.”
“Then why—” She cut herself off before she could ask the question that had haunted her since she’d stormed out of his hotel room the morning before.
“Because I didn’t want anything to change. You’re one of my best friends. I don’t want to lose that and I was afraid if you came on tour with us I’d fuck everything up like I always do.”
At his words, she felt the last of her anger melt away. Even though Ryder wasn’t offering her what she wanted—what she’d always wanted when it came to him—he was giving her the biggest part of himself he could. Rejecting it because it wasn’t enough would mean rejecting him.
And that she couldn’t do, not when she knew how much it took for him to open up even this much.
Not when she knew just how afraid he was of messing up the few things in his life that he couldn’t help caring about.
That she was one of those things… It might not be enough, but in a lot of ways, it was more than she ever could have hoped for.
Squeezing him just as tightly as he had squeezed her, she dropped a kiss on Ryder’s heavily stubbled jaw. And forced herself to let go—once and for all—of all the silly schoolgirl fantasies she’d harbored for him through the years.
“Come on,” she told him, pulling gently away when the pain of touching him became too much for her to handle. “First one to find the pancake mix wins.”
“Wins what?” he demanded, eyes narrowed in sudden interest.
“You’ll have to win to find out!” And then she took off running toward the center of the store, the sound of his laughter ringing out behind her.