One Week Girlfriend by Monica Murphy ~ EXCLUSIVE Deleted Scene & Giveaway

Paperback Edition Now Available 

Temporary. That’s the word I’d use to describe my life right now. I’m temporarily working double shifts—at least until I can break free. I’m temporarily raising my little brother—since apparently our actual mother doesn’t give a crap about either of us. And I always end up as nothing but the temporary girlfriend—the flavor of the week for every guy who’s heard the rumor that I give it up so easily.

At least Drew Callahan, college football legend and local golden boy, is upfront about it. He needs someone to play the part of his girlfriend for one week. In exchange for cash. As if that’s not weird enough, ever since he brought me into his world, nothing really makes sense. Everyone hates me. Everyone wants something from him. And yet the only thing Drew seems to want is . . . me.

I don’t know what to believe anymore. Drew is sweet, sexy, and hiding way more secrets than I am. All I know is, I want to be there for him—permanently.

My 5 star review!

If you have read this fabulous book, then you might remember a certain marshmallow themed note that Drew writes to Fable at the end.  Recently, I begged and pleaded and got a peek at that scene.  Just had to share it with you!

DO. NOT. READ. if you haven't read One Week Girlfriend yet!

Never look back unless you are planning to go that way. – Henry David Thoreau

Drew

I sit on the edge of the bed watching her sleep. She’s so damn beautiful all the time but especially when she’s like this. Eyes closed, mouth soft, expression…open. Not so full of wariness or anger or pity.

Yeah, I hate to see the pity in her eyes, though I’ve only witnessed that a few times. She hates what happened to me and feels bad but she doesn’t hate me so that’s a plus. I still can’t believe she knows what happened between Adele and I and wants to be with me anyway. I never believed I could find a girl like this. More than anything, I figured I would never, ever tell anyone about my fucked up past.

Fable knows. Yet she wants to stick.

I can’t let her though. I’d only hurt her. I’m all fucked up still. What Adele confessed sent me reeling. It’s…too much. I’m too much. No girl in their right mind would want to deal with me and I can’t blame them. My excess baggage overwhelms me and it’s mine. Imagine what Fable must think.

Turning away from her, I breathe deep and close my eyes briefly, telling myself to get a move on. I’m already dressed. The sun will be up soon. I’d planned my escape the moment she fell asleep and I should be gone by now. But something keeps me there.

That something is Fable.

Standing, I go to the side of the bed and stare down at her, my hands in my pockets so I won’t do something stupid like reach out and touch her. Instead I keep my gaze locked on her face, almost willing her to feel me looking at her. She exhales softly, murmurs something I can’t understand and I wish I didn’t have to do this.

But I do.

I glance around her room, noting how freaking messy it is. Hey, no one’s perfect and seeing her bedroom allows me that little glimpse into her world I so desperately wanted to see. I want to know everything about her, even the stuff she wants to keep from me.

Everything.

Even though it’s dark I can still see the piles of clothes on the floor, the jewelry scattered all over the top of her old, beat up dresser. There’s a notebook sitting amongst the chaos and without thought I grab it, open it up and tear out a blank sheet of paper.

Hell. What am I doing? Am I really going to write her a freaking note? It’ll only piss her off. She’ll hate me for good, no matter what my intentions are. I’m conflicted. I both want to keep her close and push her away. Keeping her is the selfish part of me. Pushing her away is the selfless part.

For once, I should be selfless. Think of others before I think of myself. Leaving Fable is the right thing to do. I know it in my head.

My heart and my body though? They’re both screaming at me to stay.

Pushing all thought aside, I glance around, trying my best to keep quiet. There’s a cup of pens sitting next to a scratched, small jewelry box and I pluck one from the container, settling heavily in the lone chair in the room. It’s covered with clothes, there’s an empty laundry basket it right next to the chair and I flip it over, creating a makeshift desk.

What the hell do I write? I’m sorry just won’t cut it. She’ll probably want to tear my balls off if I give her some sort of lame excuse or a halfhearted apology.

So I go ahead and decide to tell her the truth.

My handwriting is crap. I’m nervous so it’s shaky. I hate this. I hate feeling like this. Maybe…maybe I could put a secret message in my note. And if she can figure it out, then maybe Fable really is the girl for me.

Dear Fable,

(Have I ever told her how much I love her name? It’s so unusual. She’s unusual—in the best possible way.)

My worst enemy is behind me because of you.

(Fuck this is the truth. Partially. I still have demons to battle though.)

And there’s still a lot left for me to explain.

(So much it would take a freaking lifetime for me to tell her everything. Shit she wouldn’t want to hear either.)

Right now, all I can think about is you.

(It’s true. I have a feeling she’ll haunt me for the rest of my life.)

So many things in my life confuse me and…

Hurt me—except you.

(I feel like she’s the only person I can trust in this entire world yet I’m leaving her. What the hell is wrong with me? Is it because I don’t know what it’s like to be really happy so I’d rather be miserable?)

Maybe we can be together again someday.

(A guy can hope right? I’ve felt too hopeless for too long.)

All I really want is you, but I can’t do this now.

(I can’t. It’ll hurt her too much. What if I discover more secrets in my life? That would kill me—and her.)

Losing you will be the hardest thing I’ve dealt with yet.

(I feel like I’m leaving a piece of myself with Fable. I wonder if she even knows how much she means to me.)

Loving you might be a mistake. Drawing you into my world will

Only hurt you. And I refuse to do that.

(I’m a liar. Loving her will never be a mistake. I’m only saying that to make this easier on us. If that’s even possible.)

Will you ever forgive me?

Will she? If I were her, I wouldn’t. I don’t deserve her forgiveness. I’m a coward. A coward who is madly in love with Fable Maguire.

Releasing a shuddering breath, I stand. Slip the pen back into the cup where I found it. Go to the bed where Fable still sleeps. I set the note on her bedside table and then, unable to resist, I lean over and press my cheek against hers, inhaling her sweet, delicious scent. She doesn’t so much as move, all I can feel is her warm breath fanning across my cheek and I press a ghost of a kiss to her lips before I rise.

And leave.

* * *

I’ve known her a week. I shouldn’t think I’m in love with her but I am. Thinking about leaving her makes my chest ache. Yet here I am, sneaking out of her apartment like a thief, shutting the door quietly behind me. Outside, the air is frigid, the sky still dark with clouds though the rising sun lightens the otherwise gloomy gray.

There have been a lot of shitty days in my life but I think this one rates as one of the all time shittiest.

Climbing into my truck, I slam the door, lean my forehead against the steering wheel and close my eyes against the fucking tears that want to spill. Regret settles heavily, nearly choking me and I reach out blindly, slip the key into the ignition and start the engine.

I write her a marshmallow letter and hope like hell she understands it. I can’t let her go yet. I can’t let us go yet. Stupid, I know. I’ve known her a week. It shouldn’t matter what we shared between us. A few kisses, mindless sex, that was it, right?

But no. it was so much more than that. Fucking soul stirring kisses that made me believe in chances. In love. When we touch, when I hold her in my arms, when I’m inside her, I want to lose myself in her.

Forever.

She knows all my secrets. I think I know all of hers. I want more. She probably wants more too but right now, I can’t give it to her. So maybe someday she’ll come and find me.

And maybe someday I’ll be ready.

PLUS

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About the author:

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of new adult contemporary romance. A believer in kissing. A believer of love.

I'm a wife, a mom and I live in California.