Pushing the Boundaries (Picking up the Pieces #3)
Read Pushing the Boundaries (Picking up the Pieces #3) Online
Authors: Jessica Prince
Copyright © 2014 by Jessica Prince
All rights reserved.
Cover Designer: Najla Qamber
Interior Designer: Jovana Shirley, Unforeseen Editing,
www.unforeseenediting.com
Editor: Hot Tree Editing
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Visit my website at
www.authorjessicaprince.com
Other Titles by Jessica
THE PICKING UP THE PIECES SERIES:
PICKING UP THE PIECES
RISING FROM THE ASHES
PUSHING THE BOUNDARIES
WORTH THE WAIT (COMING FEBRUARY 2015)
DEADLY LOVE TRILOGY:
DESTRUCTIVE
ADDICTIVE
OBSESSIVE (COMING EARLY 2015)
OTHER TITLES:
NIGHTMARES FROM WITHIN
To those of you who have been waiting (im)patiently for Trevor’s story.
You know who you are.
The man is mine, but I’ll still share him with you.
As always, first up is my wonderful husband: Thank you so much for buying every one of my books to put on your shelf. (Even the ones with the shirtless men on the cover). I couldn’t do this without your unwavering support.
To my writing buddies: Emmy, Jennifer, Erin, and Rose. I have no doubt that, without our daily texts, it would have taken me sooooooooo much longer to finish this story.
To my beta readers/a-friggin’-mazing friends: Elise, Rebecca, Shey, and Crystal. I can’t put into words how much it means to me that y’all Love Trevor and Lizzy’s story as much as I do. You’re words give me the feels.
Oh the feels!!!!!
To the bloggers and readers who have given me a shot: It’s because of you that I keep writing. Thank you for giving my stories a chance.
To my amazing editor, cover artist, and formatter: Y’all. Are. Awesome!
And last, to my readers: This one is for YOU!
WWW.FACEBOOK.COM/AUTHORJESSICAPRINCE
WWW.TWITTER.COM/@JESSPRINCE2013
WWW.INSTAGRAM.COM/JESSPRINCE_WRITES
Three Months Earlier
Emmy and Luke finally made up. Gavin and Stacia were getting married, and as soon as Jeremy and Savannah got their heads out of their asses and realized they were perfect for each other, they’d be on tap to tie the knot, as well. It appeared everyone around me was being bitten by the freaking love bug. Well, everyone but me, at least.
I should have been happy for my friends. I
was
happy! But I just couldn’t seem to move past the underlying jealousy that everyone was getting their happily ever after when I was stuck kissing a shit ton of frogs, desperately trying to find my own. I’d dated more in the past six months than I had in my entire life, and still…
nothing
. I’d done it all: speed dating, online dating, anything to try and find my soul mate. You name it. I did it. And it hadn’t been easy. Every attempt at finding love had been under the radar. I loved my friends, really, but if they knew the lengths I was going to in order to find a man, their noses would be so far in my business I’d never be able to get them out.
It was best to keep everyone in the dark until I finally found the man worthy enough to actually meet my motley crew of bat-shit-crazy friends. Only one person was aware of what I was doing, and that was only because Trevor was nosy as all hell and couldn’t mind his own damn business if his life depended on it. Fortunately, he was good at keeping his mouth shut and hadn’t ratted me out to anyone yet.
Un
fortunately, he’d become an ever-widening pain in my ass about the men I’d agreed to dates with.
How in the ever-loving hell I managed to become best friends with Trevor Devareau was still a mystery, but the friendship somehow managed to work…in a slightly-twisted, chaotic sort of way.
But all of that was beside the point. The point was my friends were shacking up one by one while I remained
miserably
unattached. Every date I went on turned out to be a failure of epic proportions, leaving me questioning
why me, God
on more than one occasion. Seriously, in the grand scheme of dating, the levels of shitty were as stated: bad, disastrous, catastrophic. Then there was me.
Date number five asked me if the carpet matched the drapes the minute I opened the front door—the door which miraculously slammed in his face right after that. Date number seven made sure the waiter handed the check to me when we were through with dinner, informing me that he was all about “equal rights.”
