All the Bold Moves (All The Right Moves #2) Read Online Sara Ney

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Funny, New Adult, Romance, Sports, Virgin, Young Adult Tags Authors: Series: All The Right Moves Series by Sara Ney
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Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97548 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
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Dear lord, please forgive me for being a judgmental bitch and for anything else that comes out of my mouth tonight directed at Matthew Wakefield. Lord, I just can’t seem to help myself…

Amen.

My eyes drift back to the open neckline of Matthew’s shirt. He’s gesturing wildly, beer bottle in one hand and forearm flexing on the other, and as he talks the dark plaid flannel shirt with its open top few buttons strains from the brawny pectoral muscles across the front - clearly an open invitation for my perusal.

Hey, I might think the guy is complete douche, but I am human.

And female.

I sigh and continue on my way, although it’s impossible to make any progress without throwing an elbow here or there just so I can get through to the bar. Embarrassed that I caught myself mentally undressing my nemesis, I purposefully lock eyes with my best friend Abby at the bar. Standing next to her is Molly, and Molly’s best friend Jenna, who all wave to me from their position across the room.

They’ve actually managed to get seats. Nice.

Rising on her tippy toes, Jenna gestures wildly and mouths ‘Hurry up!’

Bright disco ball earrings dangle from her dainty lobes, sparkling wildly under the dim lights and causing me to grin. Only Jenna could wear disco ball earrings out in public and pull it off without everyone thinking she’s crazy – on the contrary: everyone thinks she’s cool.

Well. Except for Weston, who is a tad weirded out by her because she used to have a huge crush on him… Not to mention, she used to stalk him a little when they were in high school. It wasn’t like ‘Fatal Attraction’ and no rabbits were boiled, but still - guys hate stalking in any capacity; so do yourself a favor and never do it…

Molly is leaning across the counter, balancing herself on the bottom rim of a stool like a total champ, twenty dollar bill extended over the bar top. No, actually, she is tapping the bill impatiently, like she’s at the bar every day and has the system down pat.

Glancing around, she yells “This place sucks when it’s so crowded.”

What she means is, it’s packed because the Badger Hockey team had a home game this week, and they’re here celebrating their recent win against Cleveland… and where there are bad boys of Badger hockey, the crowds – and girls – will most definitely follow.

I roll my eyes and hand her my empty glass. “Can you get me a water instead? My head is killing me.”

She nods and sticks her arm back out to signal the bartender. “This song sure isn’t helping.” One Direction has just come over the sound system, blasting out their hit from last year ‘Best Song Ever.’

“What. You don’t like boy bands?” I tease.

“Not this one! What are we, twelve?”

Jenna, who has been Molly’s best friend since grade school, makes a face of disbelief and her eye brows shoot up to her forehead. “Don’t you dare lie Molly Wakefield! I know you have this CD because I’ve seen it on your desk. You totally think this is the Best Song Everrrrrrr!” Jenna shouts this last part loudly, singing along and throwing her arms in the air like she’s at a rock concert, while I do a twirly little hip-hop dance move on my toes to the beat. This of course immediately sends me toppling over a little bit.

I have no rhythm.

Anyone watching us would think we were drunk.

My friend Abby groans loudly, covering her face with the palm of her hand. “Oh my god you guys, please stop” (She’s way more serious than the rest of us).

“You guys are idiots,” Molly laughs as she smacks me in the shoulder and sticks out her tongue.

Jenna shrugs in agreement. “Yeah, but you love us…”

“So, I don’t see Wes… What’s he up to?” Abby kindly asks.

“He busted his lip open during the game.” The bartender sets down their drinks, and my water. Grabbing her glass off the bar, Molly turns and takes a dainty sip out of the tiny red straw. “Actually, a left wing for the Buckeyes did it for him when they got into a brawl second quarter. Punched him right in the face with his glove after Weston checked him into the boards. The guy didn’t even bother to take the damn glove off.” She makes a face, wrinkling her brow. “He’s going to have a huge scab on his lip. Ugh. No offense to Weston cause I love him and all, but it’s so so gross.”

Now I’m making a face. “Uh, yeah. Sucks to be you.”

“Tell me about it.” Molly turns to slowly scan the crowd. Her eyes lock on a group of guys across the bar and get real wide before she groans, turning back to us, embarrassed, “Oh geez, would you look at my brother? What the hell does he think he’s doing?” She takes another sip of her Cosmo and squints in Matthew’s direction. “Oh my gawd, what a tool…”


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