Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 149510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 748(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 748(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
Finn Hayes is what girls my age would call “stupid hot.” He’s handsome, has brown eyes that remind me of warm chocolate chip cookies, and a tall, muscular build that makes marble sculptures jealous.
Green flag, right?
Wrong.
He’s also broody, closed off, and so complex that it feels like I need a decoder to crack him.
He’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met and fights like he came out of the womb swinging, taking down both my ex-boyfriend and an ex-UFC fighter with ease.
But the underground society at our college known as Double C has nothing on him in the secrets department, and it’s that mysterious edge that keeps me coming back for more.
This is more than the story of how Finn and I fell in love.
This is proof that love has a learning curve. Sometimes you succeed, and sometimes…it destroys you.
Author Note: Learning Curve is a New Adult Romance standalone that is book one in the Dickson University Series. This highly-addictive series will follow the grown-up Billionaire Bad Boy kids and long-lost Winslow siblings as they navigate college life and relationships. Buckle up for all the college drama, romance, spice, angst, and humor. You do not need to have read the Billionaire Bad Boys Series or Winslow Brothers Collection to read Learning Curve. It is a complete standalone.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
To new beginnings.
To learning the hard way.
To a book so thick—and dramatic—it almost killed us.
And to all the readers who’ve been requesting a spin-off series with the Billionaire kids all grown up: We had to wait until the characters were ready, but we promise, they’ve arrived in high style.
This one is for you.
Scottie
We’re both in my bed, completely naked, and I want to give myself to him.
Soul, heart, virginity—he’s the one I want to have it all, even when I know it’s the worst idea I’ve ever had.
He traces the lines of my body with his heated gaze. Goose bumps form on my skin, and I glance down to where he’s hard and aroused. For me.
I feel immediately powerful.
Finn is the kind of guy who can have any girl he wants but chooses to be alone. He’s complicated and complex, and there’s so much I don’t know about him—so much no one knows about him.
I want to know about him, though, which is what got me into this kind of trouble in the first place.
We’re dynamic. We’re kindred. We’re meant to be. I feel it in my bones. But how long can you shoulder the guilt of secret betrayal before you burst at the seams?
His perfect brown eyes will turn hard and cold. His smile will disappear. Everything he thought he could trust will be gone.
This is so much bigger than this moment, and yet, I can’t stop. I have to have him.
I just hope it doesn’t mean I lose him forever.
Friday, August 30th
Finn
The buzz of a busy New York City pounds against my back as I push through the doors of Graham Hall, my home for the foreseeable future.
It’s move-in day at Dickson University, and I, one of the university’s newest freshmen, have officially entered the next phase of my life.
In a sense, I feel free. My last “phase of life” was shittier than ideal. Still, there’s a whole other element to the excitement of college when you’re me, and the burn in my chest glows hotter and hotter every day.
The strap of my oversized black duffel digs into my shoulder. It’s heavy, filled with everything I own—which, admittedly, seems like hardly anything at all as I weave through the dormitory hallway teeming with wealthy pricks and their parents.
Sofas, mini refrigerators, computer monitors, and TVs the size of my childhood basement battle for space in the hallway of the tiny, male-only building located at the far northwestern corner of the entire campus.
I’m alone, as normal, and that draws more than a few stares on the way to my room. Deep navy-blue doors spaced twenty feet apart line the gold-painted halls. No doubt, the color choice is a nod to the university’s colors.
Dickson is one of New York City’s most prestigious universities. A fucked-up guy like me shouldn’t belong here, but I fought to make it happen anyway. I maintained a perfect GPA for the last two years of high school, despite everything going on at home, and wrote a personal statement that took a month and a half to finish to earn an acceptance letter and enough financial aid to cover the basics.
Everything depends on this.
“Hey,” one guy wearing a Yankees baseball cap says, giving me a jerk of his chin as I scoot past him and an older man I’m assuming is his father as they try to cram a couch through his dorm room door.
I give the head nod back, but I don’t need to bother with anything else—he’s already back to what he’s doing before I’m finished with the simple motion.
Two doors down, I find my name on the wall beside a wide-open threshold.
Finnley Hayes
On a sigh, I take the black Sharpie marker I got in my welcome packet out of my jeans pocket and scratch out the l-e-y until the sign reads Finn Hayes.
Underneath is a second name—Ace Kelly—belonging to my university-random-generated roommate. I might be more nervous about sharing the space with someone if I weren’t one of five rambunctious kids. I’m used to having people on top of me all the time, and I’m used to not having a choice about it.
One roommate is child’s play, compared to what I dealt with growing up.
The room looks empty at first, save several boxes and suitcases and a shitload of electronics on one of the desks, but when I step inside, a voice proves my assumption false. I turn around just as one of the hottest middle-aged ladies I’ve ever seen pops out from behind the door. “Hey,” she says casually, her dark brown hair and vibrant blue eyes standing out immediately. “Are you Finnley?”
“Finn,” I correct, loathing the sound of my full name coming from such a hot mouth, even if she is old.
“Ah, Finn.” She nods, and her mouth curves up into a smile that only makes her lips look fuller. “Yeah, that’s way more fuckable.”