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Review – How to Date a Douchebag: The Learning Hours by Sara Ney,Get A Copy

Ref A: 50ADEDEF9E3E7DDE94C34C46 Ref B: BER30EDGE Ref C: TZ. Ref A: 58CA51DA9BFE65EB Ref B: HEL01EDGE Ref C: TZ. The Studying Hours read online free from your Pc or Mobile. The Studying Hours (How to Date a Douchebag #1) is a New Adult novel by Sara Ney.

And the texts I've been receiving are what wet dreams are made of. But I'm not like these douchebags, no matter how hard they try to turn me into one. Zeke Daniels isn't just a douchebag; he's an asshole.

A total and complete jerk, Zeke keeps people at a distance. He has no interest in relationships - most assholes don't. Being part of a couple? He's never given any thought to what he wants in a girlfriend, because he's never had any intention of having one. Shit, he barely has a relationship with his family, and they're related; his own friends don't even like him.

So why does he keep thinking about Violet DeLuca? Sweet, quiet Violet - his opposite in every sense of the word. There are no douchebags in this story. Well, there are, but they're not who this story is about. This story is about me - the coach's daughter. When I moved to Iowa to live with my dad, the university's take-no-prisoners wrestling coach, I thought transferring would be easy as pie - living with my father would be temporary, and he'd make sure his douchebag wrestlers left me alone.

Wrong on both counts. Those are Jackson Jennings Jr. Every Friday night, Triple J cruises the strip on campus, bored, lonely, and conditioned not to party. But the night he meets Charlotte Edmonds on the side of the road, he wonders if his three mantras will ever be enough.

Kip Carmichael is no pretty boy. Hair so unruly, and a beard so thick, his friends on the team call him Sasquatch. The first time Sasquatch lays eyes on Theodora "Teddy" Johnson across the keg at a party one night on Jock Row, she'd been relegated to the sidelines by her jock-hungry "friends". Week after week, he watches beautiful but bashful Teddy getting overshadowed and overlooked. Sasquatch finally broad-shoulders his way through the crowd, offering to to be her hairy godmother.

But the minute their eyes meet? No doubt about it, Sebastian "Oz" Osborne is the university's most celebrated student athlete - and possibly the biggest douchebag. Jameson Clarke may be the university's most diligent student - but she is no prude. Spending most of her time in the hallowed halls of the library, James is wary of pervs, jocks, and douchebags - and Oz Osborne is all three. She's smart, sarcastic - and not what he expected Scarlett is always the sensible one: The one holding your hair back while you're worshiping the porcelain gods.

Week-after-week, she visits Jock Row with her friends - the university's hottest party scene and a breeding ground for student athletes. And if keeping her friends out of trouble and guys out of their pants was a sport, she'd be the star athlete. Being a well known jock-blocker gets her noticed for all the wrong reasons; just like that, she's banned from Jock Row.

No guy wants a girl around who keeps their jock friends from getting laid. What is The Bachelor Society? It's a gentleman's club - like the dignified men of the past used to have. We're ineligible bachelors; bored, jaded and not looking for relationships. Quite the opposite actually We're so committed to being single, we've created a high stakes bet to see who can remain single the longest. Laugh it up, but I'm no loser. Homeless and heartbreakingly innocent, Giselle Riley walks into my penthouse and chaos follows.

Cosy Felton is great at her job - she knows just how to handle the awkwardness that comes with working at an adult toy store. Griffin Mills is using his business trip in Las Vegas as a chance to escape the broken pieces of his life in New York City.

I knew something was wrong the second she walked in the door tonight; I just couldn't put my finger on what it was. At the small dimple beneath her lip that wasn't there the last time we went out.

And her laugh - that laugh isn't as loud. This isn't the girl I've gone out with the past few weeks. It's her twin sister, and they've switched places on me. Mascen Wade, star pitcher of the Aldridge University baseball team, is a lot of things.

My plan is to keep my head down, get my degree, and leave this town. But the moment Mascen Wade recognizes me, all my carefully laid plans come crumbling down. I haven't seen her in three years.

I haven't talked to her since the kiss. So why am I on a plane, flying across the world to spend a week with her in Germany? My possible football career is hanging on by a thread. I'm driving the roads of Germany in honor of Pops with the one girl I can never have.

We made a pact growing up, never to get romantic with each other - never fall in love. Hades in a Brioni suit. Cillian Fitzpatrick has been dubbed every wicked thing on planet earth. To the media, he is The Villain. To me, he is the man who reluctantly saved my life. Your pity party is over. Coach grins up at me from his desk, the overhead lights reflecting off his thick glasses. You meet your Little Brother tomorrow at their downtown office.

Address is on the form. Now get the fuck out of my office. His raspy chuckle hits my back when I turn toward the door. Especially one being forced on me? But I like it that way; I like creating distance. No one needs me, and I need them even less. Happiness is a myth. I saunter to the nutrition and organics section, hands automatically reaching for the protein powder, gripping the black plastic container in one hand, and lobbing it in among the deli meat, bread, and bottles of water.

Turning the aisle and pushing the cart on the right side of the aisle, I skid to a halt, almost plowing into a little girl on her tiptoes, reaching toward a shelf. Even on the balls of her feet. I note that her tiny digits are painted glittery blue, and there are bits of dirt encrusted under her nail beds. I can say whatever the hell I want. In a flurry of gray and white, the owner of that voice comes sk idding around the corner, gasping for breath when she sees us.

Pulls the scrawny kid to her body in an embrace. You scared me half to d-death. Takes a shaky breath. I thought I was going to have a h-heart attack. I put my hands up. Up, into my impassive, irritated eyes. I intimidate most people and take pride in it. Her lips part but no sound comes out, nothing but a startled squeak.

She could have been kidnapped. Because as many romances between unlikely partners develops, emotions and insecurities and doubts get in the way. Friends, and entourage, expectations, and hesitations. Great read, minus the somewhat rushed and quirky-weird ending. Browse my 5 star and 4. I started Vindicativa by Angela Richardon last night….

Just jumped right in not knowing anything about it but I read her Pieces of Lies Series and loved it so much so I thought I would just dive right in. I love this trope when done right. Especially, if they become friends first, slow burn.

Going back to the courtyard first then I think this. Very good friends, in fact. Endearing as anything, and even to sleep together with ONLY sleep. This book sounds so great!! Adding to my list. Really liking the unique writing… then I need to read The Life List for book club but I really want to read this one!! May need to squeeze it in. Who sounds to truly like the opposite of our Amy…hilarious!

File Original Title:How to Date a Douchebag: The Studying Hours Creator: Sara Ney Language:en Identifier:MOBI-ASIN:B01KF0I4SY Publisher: Sara Ney DateT+ Subject:How to Date a Douchebag File Size MB. Read How to Date a Douchebag by Sara Ney with a free trial. Read unlimited* books and audiobooks on the web, iPad, iPhone and Android. Everyone says Rex Gunderson isn't boyfriend material. Everyone says he isn't serious enough. Everyone says he's a joke. In fact, rumor has it—the disgraced ex-manager of the wrestling team left campus with his. Read The Studying Hours (How to Date a Douchebag 1) Online Free. The Studying Hours (How to Date a Douchebag 1) is a Romance Novel By Sara Ney. It is a How to Date a Douchebag Series Novel. Enjoy Reading on

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How to Date a Douchebag Audiobooks |

How to date a douchebag.. How to Date a Douchebag: The Studying Hours, page 1. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. 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 express written permission from the authors.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. The library is my solace. Where I come to listen to the sound of pages being turned, the faint sound of laptop keys clicking, the light treading of footsteps padding across the worn hardwood floor.

The building is one hundred and three years old, one of the oldest landmarks on campus, and full of history. Full of carved wood and dark corners. Full of knowledge and the secrets of scientists, philosophers, and students. The only place without roommates, their music, their phones, and the constant flurry of activity at our off-campus rental. Instead, you escape to the library.

Or the smell of overcooked Ramen noodles. I spot them long before they spot me, allowing myself a brief study respite to watch the largest one with a critical eye. The sadistic creep knows his stare is making my skin crawl. He relishes the fact. Surely college will be a short blip on the roadmap of his life, a pit stop on the way to bullying co-workers, business partners, and probably women. Blinking myself out of our stare-down, my blue eyes travel around the table, mooring on the hulky blond guy tapping away on his keyboard, head bobbing to whatever music is bumping through those shiny black Beats.

Then they land on the Latino slouched deep in his chair, staring at the ceiling and chewing on a yellow number two pencil. Last but not least?

The guy with the thick neck and thicker tattooed arms. Every so often, he shifts restlessly in his seat before giving his head a shake. Blows out a puff of frustrated air. Shifts in his seat. She slithers up to them brazenly, hip resting on the edge of the table, dragging one fingertip across the smooth surface, up and over that tattooed arm. Skims her nail across the bare skin of his forearm.

His head flies up, startled. Leans back, crosses his solid arms. And obviously his type. Removing my black-rimmed glasses, I rub the sight from my tired eyes, wondering for a brief moment what it would be like to be that kind of girl—the carefree kind who lets boys lead her into dark rows of books.

Because it feels good. I replace my glasses, the hairs on the back of my neck prickling with awareness as I pat a dainty yawn away, shifting my gaze. Meet cold, intimidating gray eyes. Have sex with me? I thought coming to the quiet library would give me the solace I need to get the assignment done, but apparently I was wrong. I need you to walk over there and see if that chick staring over here is my tutor.

No one asked you. My dark eyes settle on the unassuming girl hunched over a stack of books and wielding a pencil, furiously writing away. Intense and serious, this girl means business. Probably a fucking prude if the pearl necklace circling her neck is any indication. I mean, did you not see the fucking pearls around her neck?

No way she needs the money. I need a good grade in biology. A girl like that is going to be single forever. Zeke shoots him an irritated scowl. I bet she could use a good, stiff dicking. Would you please just go over there for me? Wearing a simple white tee shirt and a black cardigan, a single strand of gleaming ivory pearls circle her neck. Hot pink earbud cords dangle down her neck. Relaxing my fingertips on the edge of the solid wood table, I wait for her to glance up.

Expert at hiding it. Clearing my throat, I throw out a casual greeting and try to look bored. I turn toward my friends, both of them giving me a thumbs up, and shake my head. Zeke furrows his brows, pissed off as usual, and glances down at the folded paper in his hand with a frown. He wads it up and tosses it to the floor. I guess that settles it. Sorry to bother you. I mean, my pride is taking a real beating here.

Do I just turn and walk away? Or do I try to get the last word in? I stand here, not really knowing what to do, and shove my hands in the pockets of my jeans. The fuck is wrong with this chick? I drag out my chair, rejoining them with a glower. Give nerd girl a reason to live. Like it would be hard?