Hangry- Lily Kate

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Romance, Romantic Comedy

Pages:

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Spice: 🌶️ Very mild, no description.

Book Summary:

han·gry

/haNGɡrē/

adjective informal

bad-tempered or irritable as a result of hunger.

"I get very hangry if I miss a meal"

From USA Today bestselling author Lily Kate comes a brand new series...

Ladies & Gents,

I sold my soul for a hamburger .

And I have no regrets. When a girl is trapped indefinitely in an elevator with a smoking hot burger and an empty stomach, even the strongest of women will crumble.

The story goes like this: Bradley Hamilton, former professional hockey player and the most frustrating human alive, offered me half of his hamburger in exchange for a date. I took him up on the offer—while under duress—and now I’m stuck with the consequences. Specifically, the scorching kiss that has me drooling for more.

However, there’s one whopper of a problem. This man has been a thorn in my side for the last twenty years—ever since he moved next door and became my older brother’s best friend. We’ve gone head to head for years, and now, he’s trying to buy out my restaurant in order to plop one of his big fat gyms there instead.

I refuse to let him ruin my business. Unfortunately, Bradley Hamilton is like an order of french fries: you just can’t have one. It appears our lips are addicted to kissing. He’s alarmingly handsome. Deliciously confident. And worst of all? Underneath that salty exterior he’s starting to show signs of sweet.

Brad Hamilton is my guilty pleasure, my cheat meal, my greatest craving.

Which is why he’ll be one habit that’s hard to kick.

Book Review: The way this book had me laughing out loud from the beginning to end is insane. In fact, it's been 10 months since I read this book and my highlights (Listed below) STILL make me laugh. This was so good I couldn't help but give it a good review!

Highlights- Notes- Spoilers

• My hair is a disaster, my clothes look like I’ve spent the night on the grimy floor of an Italian discoteca, and my horrible attempt at knitting is draped around my neck, giving off the vibe of a fishnet scarf. I look like I’m wrecked from a wild and crazy night. However, all we actually did was spend the night drinking wine, trying out Kitty’s makeup samples, and cursing at How to Knit video tutorials.

• “You’re just jealous you don’t have this warm blanket to cuddle with.” I fist a hand through my oddly shaped blanket-scarf and brandish it in his face. “That’s right—I made this.” Bradley stares back at me. He’s got this whole chocolate brown hair, chocolate brown eyes thing going on, and it makes my hand slip right through one of the loops in my blanket. Not exactly snuggle material, I suppose. “Jealous?” I ask, rubbing it against my face. I struggle not to wince as it scratches my skin. “Because you should be.” “I am.” He bites his lip, watches me rub the blanket across my cheek, then directs his gaze toward the ceiling.

• can give you a bite, but it’ll cost you.” “Cost me?” I quickly run through a list of things I have in my purse that might be an acceptable trade. I find, in no particular order: a tampon, a stick of broken open gum, a receipt for my last pair of shoes, and my checkbook.

• “How much is it gonna cost me?” “I don’t want your money.” “Do you want my...” I hesitate and quickly finger my belongings. He’s definitely not interested in the tampon, and probably not interested in the dirty piece of gum. The receipt is so old I can barely read the label on it. I itch underneath my scarf-blanket as I struggle to come up with another option.

• “I don’t want your blanket full of holes.” I give him my most offended expression. “It’s not full of holes, it’s a loose weave. Fine, then, don’t take it. Sit there and freeze.” “Freeze?” He holds out a hand, as if testing the temperature. It’s warm enough that we’re both just about sweating. With another harrumph of frustration, I ease against the opposite wall, stick my legs straight out in front, and cover myself with the blanket. It’s about as effective as trying to catch water with a strainer, but that’s okay. If it were wool, I’d be dead from overheating. “I’m very warm and cozy,” I tell him, as one of my heels pokes through a watermelon-sized hole.

• “We’re all adults here, so let’s move along and celebrate! There are worse things than a couple so madly in love they can’t keep their hands off each other.” “Agreed, Mrs. Monroe,” Bradley says. “I do love your daughter, and—” “Don’t push it, Bradley,” my mom shoots back. “She’s still my daughter, and your fly is down.”