One to Hold (One to Hold 1)

About the Author

Tia Louise is a former journalist, world-traveler, and collector of beautiful men (who inspire all of her stories... wink)—turned wife, mommy, and novelist.

It’s possible she has a slight truffle addiction. And she will never look at a family restroom the same way again.

One to Hold is her debut adult romance.

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And now an exclusive sneak peek at a hot, New Adult new release from Magan Vernon, The Only One!

Chapter 1

The sugary drink burned going down my throat. I hoped it wasn't because the guy who poured it out of the cooler roofied it. At least it drowned out the scent of sweat and stale beer. I didn't know how Monica talked me into an Alpha Mu Halloween party.

A horde of girls clad in skimpy costumes pushed past me like I was nothing more than another one of the paddles on the paneled wall. I tried to steer away from them, but my face hit a hard set of pecs. I gasped as I watched my entire drink soak through my sweater and onto my skin.

I looked up from my drenched sweater, all the way past a chiseled six pack to cool blue eyes. “Maybe you should just take it off up in my room and I can help you get dry.” He leaned in, his full lips right on my ear. “Or make you wetter.”

My breath caught in my throat, rendering me speechless. Luckily my best friend Monica jumped between us, pushing the guy back so I got a full view of him and realized he was only wearing a loincloth and a large smile.

"Down, John Boy." She scowled at him and then turned to me, almost knocking her beret off. "What the hell happened to you?"

"I-I-I spilled my drink."

Monica's eyes narrowed as she looked down at the red liquid soaking through my gray sweater. She whipped her head around to the loincloth-clad guy. "Was this your fault? Are you trying to get my friend naked?"

He held up his hands, a cockeyed grin on his face. "Purely an accident, Lib."

Ah, now I knew where I’d seen him before. He’d come into the coffee shop we worked at a few times. I don’t think he even glanced in my direction more than to hand me his student ID to pay, but was always calling Monica ‘Lib.’ I’m guessing because she was an extreme liberal.

Monica's boyfriend, the governor's son Trey Chapman, pushed through the crowd. Usually when I saw him he was polished in dress pants and a dress shirt, but his Halloween costume was nothing more than a pair of American flag boxers, a dress shirt, and some gray hairspray. He looked ridiculous. The Clinton and Lewinsky costumes had been Monica’s idea.

"Hey, I’ve been looking for you." He slipped his arm around Monica's waist. "What's going on here?"

"John Boy spilled a drink on Melanie to try and get her naked."

"Hey!" John Boy yelled.

"It wasn't his fault," I piped in. "It’s crowded here and he ran into me. It’s fine."

"Fine?" Monica raised her eyebrows. "That Hermione costume you've been wearing since middle school is covered in Everclear and Kool aid. That’s not fine, Mel."

"I haven't worn this since middle school!" Okay, truth was, it was my go-to costume. I’d bought it for the first movie's midnight showing and had worn it for every movie opening and Halloween since.

"Whatever." Monica turned her head to Trey and tugged on his shirt. "You can just wear Trey's shirt."

He shook his head. "I’m not walking around here just in my undershirt. The boxers are bad enough. Why don’t you give her yours?"