The Pucking Wrong Number (Pucking Wrong, #1)

by C.R. Jane

The picture that came in then, it was life changing. Like my DNA had been rewritten. Like my stars had rearranged themselves. I didn’t believe in love at first sight. I didn’t believe in love at all. But if I could have, I would have fallen in love with the girl in that picture.

"Good night, dream girl," he said in a thickened accent. And then the phone clicked off. I walked into my apartment and then locked it behind me…before sliding down the wall, my hands clutching my cell phone like a lifeline. Dream girl…

“Alright, dream girl. I’ll give you tonight. But you and me…its fucking real. It’s the realest fucking thing I’ve ever felt in my life. And sooner or later, you’re going to realize it too.”

“If you ever wear another man’s jersey, I will kill that man. So be careful, sweetheart.”

“I would put you in my pocket if I could, baby. Keep you with me always.”

"Monroe, I see you. I see all of you. And I'm not going anywhere. I'll be here for you, every step of the way, no matter what. Because I know that you're worth it. You're worth everything. Eventually, you’ll trust me. I’ve been lonely all these years, too. Waiting for you."

“Have you ever been in love?” she murmured, those green eyes staring at me like I was fucking everything. I was still inside her. It was where I wanted to live. “Not until I saw you.” It was the most honest thing I’d ever told her.

“I love you. And I’ll never stop,” he told me. “I’d do anything for you…I’d live for you.”

I’d never been loved before. Not by anyone. And certainly never by someone who knew that the hardest part of a love story was when your own heart was breaking. Living for someone was the most unselfish thing you could do.

Lincoln: When your girlfriend is the hottest woman on the planet, you don’t take chances. Meeting you on a plane—that’s fucking romance book shit. Not happening. I’m swooning. But it’s also a little crazy, right?

And then I got a brilliant plan. Before I could get tackled by my teammates, I skated right up to the glass in front of Monroe’s seat, just a few rows up, and I stared right at her. She’d been screaming and cheering for me along with most of the arena—even Boston fans loved me—but she quieted right down as I stood in front of her. Monroe eyed me warily, and it only made my grin wider about what I was about to do. I pointed right at her…and then I made a fucking heart sign with my hands as I stared. The crowd went fucking wild, people starting to point at her.

It was Monroe's last name. There were murmurs and whispers, and then the questions started to fly in. But it took me a minute to answer them.

“Fuck love, Monroe. Love is nothing. You can feel love for anyone. What I feel for you is pain. Knowing that a part of my fucking soul is living outside of my body and now that I’ve found it, I’ll die if I ever lose it. That’s what we have. Love is a shadowed imitation for people unlucky enough to never find their soulmates. What we have is everything.”

“From the moment I saw you, it was like a bolt of lightning hit me, like all the stars had rearranged themselves and taken every single wish anyone had ever thrown at them…and combined them all to give me my perfect dream. The one girl made just for me.” His breath shuddered and I leaned down to brush a kiss against his lips.