𝐂𝐨𝐰𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐕𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐃𝐚𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥 𝐃𝐮𝐞𝐥 is on SALE!!!

𝐂𝐨𝐰𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐕𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐃𝐚𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥 𝐃𝐮𝐞𝐥 has a fresh new look! Have you read it? You can buy it on SALE for $1.99 for a limited time only!

Universal Link: https://books2read.com/CVDD

𝘙𝘐𝘝𝘌𝘙𝘋𝘈𝘓𝘌 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘐𝘕𝘊𝘌𝘗𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘲𝘶𝘦 𝘠𝘈 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨–𝘰𝘧–𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦.

Quarterback.
Class president.
Burnout.
We all have our identities.
Most of the time, they come from our circumstances. They’re made by others—shoes for us to walk in whether they fit or not.
But what if?
What if we could take off those shoes?
What if we could wear a different pair?
What if those boxes we put ourselves in are better…worse?
And what if, when we do…we’re trapped there for good?
They all call me Cowboy.
She’s the damsel who doesn’t need to be rescued.
And him…he’s the villain.
This is our story. And this is how we want it to be told.

*The paperback is on sale on Amazon only. I’m not sure how long that will last though. 

We arrive at our exit, and I reach across his lap for my sweatshirt. He bats my hand away.

“You leave that here. We’ll get you something different to wear and be seen in.”

I dart my eyes up to meet his. I get it. He’s right. The women saw me in the blue.

“Okay.” I nod and step into the aisle. He moves in close behind me, holding his hands at my hips as we walk down the narrow pathway together.

“Smile,” he whispers over my shoulder.

I do as he says, and he laughs into the back of my neck. We’re two seventeen-year-old kids out for a fun date, and that’s it. Any glares we get as we walk off the bus are innocuous, so I play the part of carefree girl with a crush until we arrive in the thick of the early evening crowds at the mall.

I tense at the sight of a security guard, and this time he genuinely laughs at me.

“Relax, those aren’t real cops,” he says, leaning in close to me.

His hand takes mine again, but this time not as part of the act or out of panic. This is just him wanting to hold it, a natural movement that I feel he’s done dozens—hundreds—of times before. I wait until we get to the coat section of the department store across the street from the hospital, and I stop him.

“It’s about to snow outside. I’ll need something,” I say. I hold our hands up when I talk, and I nod toward them.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” His thumb makes the familiar stroke along my wrist. I glance to it and nod.

“It is,” I say.