The Hook-Up Experiment (The Experiment, #1)

by Emma Hart

“Have you or have you not had a crush on Chloe since twelfth grade?”

“Dom, seriously! Unless you watch exclusive girl-on-girl porn, you willingly look at other men’s cocks, too.” He froze. “And that’s me switching to girl-on-girl.”

“What? Because I believe it’s possible to have a sexual relationship with someone and not fall in love with them?”

“Let me get this straight. You want to go into my confidential database, pick a guy for me to sleep with three times, and not fall in love with, just so you can pay me five hundred dollars?” “No. I want to go into your confidential database and pick a guy you’ll sleep with three times, then fall in love with, so I get five hundred bucks off you.”

“I promise he’s hot, has a suitable penis, and you’ll never fall in love with him.”

Not all best friends are created equal. Unless they’re mine. Then they’re both raging assholes.

I was mere feet from the person my friends wanted me to screw and not fall in love with. From the person who’d help me prove my brother wrong.

This was the boy who’d stood me up at junior prom. Who’d egged my car when I’d told him to go fuck himself when he asked me to senior homecoming, then who proceeded to shamelessly convince my date to ghost me. He’d humiliated me.

“She’s three, and currently sleeping. And since my babysitter is my mom and they’re at my house because my dad is sick, I’d really rather not take you there.”

“She lives with me, full-time. I’m only here because my mother made me start dating, but I’d rather not date, and just hook-up. Even though the last time I did that I ended up with seven pounds of a tiny human to be responsible for.”

I wanted to ask so many questions. Why she lived with him. Where her mom was. What their relationship was. But, I didn’t. Questions were bad,

His eyes met mine. “So wet for someone you hate.” I swallowed. “My body isn’t as smart as I am.” “I think your body is a genius,” he replied, keeping his eyes on me as he lowered his mouth to my pussy.

Turns out, having sex with the girl you crushed on in high school was better than you thought it would be when you were eighteen. Even if there’s a chance she was plotting your murder after in the shower.

I’d damn well nearly had her. Until my grandmother died, and I was dragged out of state without a chance to contact her to tell her. From that moment on, she hated me.

There were few things in this life I really cared about, but I’d die before I’d lose my daughter.

can’t believe I had sex with Elliott Sloane. Red-hot, filthy, dirty-talking sex. And I’d liked it. I’d liked it. I was attracted to him. Hated him,

I didn’t know the man who was a father.

The dilf

I was curious—too curious by nature, and that would be the one thing I’d have to curb if I was going to sleep with him again.

“You’ve hated him for ten years. I couldn’t think of a better person for you not to fall in love with if I’m honest.”

“That was ten years ago!” Chloe said. “Isn’t that how long you’ve been in love with her brother?” Mellie asked. “No!” She was right. It wasn’t. It was way longer than that.

“I had hot dirty sex with Elliott, and I liked it!”

“Seriously. Just sleep together already. I can’t take it anymore.” He scoffed and wandered to the door. “Sure. You can’t take it.” That was the closest admission I’d ever had that he wanted her. Maybe they needed a nudge.

“I’m not much of a kid person, but I think I like yours already.”

He smiled. His eyes lit up a little with pure love, and it was weird seeing that on him.

“You’re not a plumber, so you wouldn’t tell someone how to fix their leaky sink. You’d tell them how to build a wall. I can’t tell my clients how they should look into learning about their bodies if I don’t know about mine.”

I want to use this for my business. Damn she’s good

“You are the most unashamedly honest woman I’ve ever met,” I admitted. “And if I hadn’t already fucked you blind, that might intimidate me a little bit.” “How is that even remotely intimidating?” She fought a laugh. “I’m a woman. I like sex. My life literally revolves around people having sex. I’m not afraid of my sexuality. I embrace it. Men are celebrated all the time for having lots of sex. Nobody will celebrate me liking a lot of sex, so I celebrate myself. Fuck that. I’m not ashamed of that.”

What had possessed me to wash Briony’s hair? To do something so gentle to such a beautiful kid who was born to someone I hated. Or… did I? Hate him? Not only was my entire perception of junior prom onward apparently misconstrued, but seeing him with his little girl? Excuse you, ovaries.

“Hey. Cold Dominos is the best. Don’t look so sad.” Man. He was a couple conversations away from having the potential to be my soulmate.

There’s always a right and wrong time for truth. Even when it’s the right time, chances are, life is gonna fuck you up the ass without lube anyway.

Now, she knew. She knew I hadn’t been a raging asshole. That even though I’d hurt her, I hadn’t had control over those situations. I’d never wanted to. Fuck, I’d wanted her to fall in love with me, not want to kill me on sight.

Now, she knew, and I had no time to fall in love.

Peyton was a tornado in a teacup. A wild, beautiful force of nature ready to forge a path for herself, no matter who or what was in her way.

I’d liked her. Really liked her. If I’d been asked back then, maybe I’d have said that she was The One in the way all idiot teens thought they’d found The One.

One that had been fraught with naïve decisions, immature actions, and unfortunate circumstances. Certainly nothing real.

I had no idea how this conversation was going to do, and more than anything, I was afraid of how it would go. I was afraid it would go well. That would make proving my brother wrong impossible.

“I don’t have a thing for her,” he lied, his face expressionless. “She drives me crazy.” “You have a thing for her,” Elliott said.

Dom raised his eyebrows. “Like you have a thing for my sister?” Elliott shrugged. “I’m sleeping with her, aren’t I?” “You have a thing for me?” I said, looking at him. “I didn’t wake up with a boner over French toast, Peyton.”

My brother stared after her, dumbfounded, unable to move. I stared at the door. Had I just watched my best friend’s heart break?

Apple juice and Cinderella were her two true loves in this world, so to have found someone else who felt the same way? Shoot her down—she was in love with Peyton based on that alone.

Without missing a beat, Briony said, “Princesses sit and look priddy so the mens buying dinner don’t know dat we can kick dere butts.”

Couldn’t we teach my daughter to, I don’t know, become an engineer or something? Not that a badass wasn’t a totally viable career option, but I didn’t know how well that paid.

Peyton swallowed a laugh as Briony wriggled her way under her arm and made herself comfortable. She dropped her gaze as my little girl snuggled in against her and squeaked along with the mice.

I knew the rule. Her golden rule. She had to have sex with someone three times without falling in love with them. But did that rule include me falling for her?

How could I be thinking about Peyton and falling for her when I didn’t even know if I could keep the one girl in my life who was every cell in my body?

Why did that terrify me? Three days ago, I’d hated him. Was this the consequence of the truth? Did it really distort reality this much? Was perspective truly so screwed by such a tiny lie?

faced with the very real potential

that I was falling in love with him.

“You run your own business. You own your house. You own your car. You’re strong and independent. You don’t allow anyone to take advantage of you. You’re headstrong and determined. You’re ambitious, and you don’t settle for anything less than the best. But, you’re also compassionate and supportive, and you would drop anything to help the people you love.” Jake held out his hands. “You’re a pain in my fucking ass, but you’re one hell of a woman, Peyton Austin. That little girl would be lucky to have you as her role model.”