Title: The Breakup Support Group
Author: Cheyanne Young
Publication Date: Nov. 22, 2016
Find: Amazon | Goodreads
Other Books by Author: Understudy | Somewhere Only We Know | City of Legends (City of Legends #1)
After four years of first love bliss, Isla Rush just got dumped.
Any hope she has of winning her ex-boyfriend back is shattered when the town rezones her neighborhood, forcing her to spend senior year at a wealthy high school in the next town over.
With a broken heart consuming her soul, Isla can’t focus on anything, except maybe Emory Underwood—a ridiculously hot guy who dates a new girl almost every day. She can’t help but crush on him, even though it’s wrong.
When memories of her ex make her cry in second period, the school counselor sends Isla to a club that meets during lunch. The Break-Up Support Group is a collection of broken-hearted misfits who are all helping each other heal.
Just when Isla’s heart is finally on the mend, Emory shows up, forced to atone for all the broken hearts he’s caused over the years. While hiding her massive crush, she helps him understand the seriousness of breaking a heart.
In turn, Emory offers to help Isla get back on the dating scene by agreeing to be her fake date for the homecoming dance. Isla gladly accepts the ruse, because if anyone can make her into a desirable girlfriend, Emory can! There’s just one small problem.
Isla’s little crush on Emory might be exactly full blown. And a homecoming fake date with him could push her over the edge to possibly uttering the “L Word!”
Isla can’t afford another heartbreak so soon after the last one. She will have to resist his charms, refuse to look into those dreamy eyes, and above all else, not make the mistake of letting him kiss her.
If only she hadn’t let her guard down at the end of the night, under the light of her porch in a toe-curling kiss moment of weakness. And now, after months of Break-Up Support Group therapy, and with a heart fully on the mend, Isla has just handed it over to a guy who knows full well just how to break it.
Cheyanne Young is a native Texan with a fear of cold weather and a coffee addiction that probably needs an intervention. She loves books, sarcasm, and collecting nail polish. After nearly a decade of working in engineering, Cheyanne now writes books for young adults and is the author of the City of Legends Trilogy. She doesn’t miss a cubicle one bit.
Cheyanne lives near the beach with her daughter and husband, one spoiled rotten puppy, and a cat that is most likely plotting to take over the world.
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A group of guys stand around in the A-K table for the line of returning students. They’re all buff and tall and could easily be a clone of the football jocks back at home. I mean, at my old school. One of them, a muscular guy taller than the rest with blond hair cropped short, looks over the crowd of new students, his eyes surveying the lot. There’s maybe forty of us here, and I doubt there are many more Deer Valley students on the way. It was a small rezoning, one that left all of my friends on the other side of the line.
His eyes meet mine for a second, and then they travel on, taking in the view. I move two steps forward in the line and glance back at him. He’s not exactly interesting—more like familiar in a comforting sort of way. I don’t know why I watch him, other than for something to do besides think of Nate. He taps his friend’s arm with the back of his hand. “There’s a few hotties from that other school,” he says, one dimple appearing in his cheek when he smirks. “Might be good since you’ve ran through all the hotties here.”
“Hell yeah,” the friend says, turning to look at us new arrivals. I immediately turn the other way, not wanting to see the look he’ll give me. I swallow and take another step forward as the line moves on. It’s stupid, the fear that rises up in my chest as I know those guys are looking over all the girls on this side of the hallway. I don’t like the idea of being judged as a hottie or not. Because what if the answer is not?
I never had to care about these things when I had a boyfriend.
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