The World's Worst Boyfriend Read online

  Praise for the Rock Star Romance series

  YOU REALLY GOT ME

  “Lovable characters and pulse-pounding chemistry make this one of my favorite reads of the year!”—Laura Kaye, New York Times Bestselling Author

  “Sexy, lyrical and electric with hot, romantic tension.” - NYT and USA Today Bestselling author Lauren Blakely

  I WANT YOU TO WANT ME

  Booklist calls I WANT YOU TO WANT ME “…steamy, hot, and totally engaging. The characters are realistic, and Kelly paints a vivid picture of what happens behind the scenes in the world of rock.”

  TAKE ME HOME TONIGHT

  All About Romance awards TAKE ME HOME TONIGHT a Desert Isle Keeper review. “All these (characters) are so authentically human they nearly walk off the page. If you like books where real people have real problems and find real love (while having really hot sex)? Pick up Take Me Home Tonight and enjoy the ride.”

  TAKE ME HOME TONIGHT “is emotional and tremendously sexy, with a large cast of characters that readers will adore — Kelly’s rendering of Calix’s grieving parents is particularly well-done — but it is Mimi’s strength that will linger long after the finish.” - Sarah MacLean, Washington Post

  Praise for the Wild Love series

  MINE FOR NOW

  “Erika Kelly has a writing style that draws the reader into the story, and I always feel like I’m friends with the heroines and in love with the heroes by the end of her books. Mine for Now was just a great love story that had smoking hot romance, an emotional storyline, and great characters.” - Reading in Pajamas

  “This book had me laughing loudly, it had me crying hard. I swooned big time, I fell in love, I had my heart broken, and then I fell in love all over again. I’ve read this one twice already and honestly, just writing this review makes me want to read it again. Easily in my top 5 reads of 2016.” - Obsessed with Romance

  MINE FOR THE WEEK

  “I love reading every book of Erika Kelly’s and cannot recommend this one enough. Her stories are full of wildness, passion, and romance. Mine For the Week is another stunning hit.” – Shirin’s Book Blog and Reviews

  “Chemistry between these characters literally sizzles off the page. Overall a fast, fun, super-hot read that I thoroughly enjoyed.” – Zoe Forward

  Titles by Erika Kelly

  Rock Star Romance series:

  YOU REALLY GOT ME

  I WANT YOU TO WANT ME

  TAKE ME HOME TONIGHT

  MORE THAN A FEELING

  Wild Love series:

  MINE FOR NOW

  MINE FOR THE WEEK

  The Bad Boyfriend series:

  THE WORLD’S WORST BOYFRIEND

  Sign up for my newsletter to find out when it goes up for preorder and come hang out with me on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Goodreads, and Pinterest or in my private reader group.

  THE WORLD’S WORST BOYFRIEND

  Erika Kelly

  ISBN-13: 978-0-9859904-8-0

  Copyright 2018 EK Publishing, LLC

  All rights reserved

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are used fictitiously or are a product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover designed by Novak Illustration

  Formatting by Polgarus Studio

  This book is dedicated to my children. I’m so proud of the men and women you’ve become.

  Table of Contents

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  SAMPLE: MORE THAN A FEELING

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  To Superman, my everything. Thank you for always listening, always being there and, most of all, always loving me.

  To Olivia: it makes it so much more fun to share this journey with you.

  To KP: thank you for your kindness and expertise. You make the journey a thousand times better.

  To Sharon: your friendship and endless support mean the world to me.

  To Kristy DeBoer: you made this book so much better; thank you for your friendship.

  To Abbi Nyberg and Brock Butterfield: your help on this series is invaluable. Any mistakes are either creative license or my bad.

  To the romance writing community: I couldn’t do this without the bloggers and reviewers like Obsessed with Romance, Krista’s Dust Jacket, Guilty Pleasures Book Reviews, About That Story, Reading in Pajamas, Zoe Forward, Shirin’s Book Blog and Reviews, Reads and Reviews, and Isha Coleman—to name just a few; and my friends in writer groups like the Dreamweavers, The DND Authors, CTRWA, WRW, and CoLoNY.

  CHAPTER ONE

  His boots crunched on fresh, wind-blown snow, his toes were numb, and if Fin Bowie wasn’t tied by a rope to two people, he’d jump on his board and ride the spine down to base camp.

  He had to get home. He’d already missed the bachelor party; he damn well wouldn’t miss the wedding.

  June snow squalls were uncommon enough, but lasting a week? The moment they’d passed, he’d called for the helicopter, so with any luck it’d be waiting for them. He’d head straight to the Innsbruck airport and catch the last flight out.

  “One mile to freedom, boys.” Traci Allen, the two-time Women’s World Games snowboarding champion who led the way down the mountain, shot Fin a glance over her shoulder. “Loved coming with you but, man, do I want to get home.”

  “I want meat,” one of the guys said. “It’s all I can think about. A thick, juicy burger. Salty fries. And a frosty vanilla milkshake.”

  “Vanilla?” someone else said. “Who orders vanilla?”

  The storms had prevented them from receiving their last supply drop, so they’d run out of everything. Fin had downed his last protein bar two days ago. Yeah, he was hungry. He’d grab whatever they had at the airport. But he didn’t have food on his mind.

  The chain of flights—Innsbruck to Paris, Paris to Denver, and then Denver to Calamity, Wyoming—would take thirty-three hours total. If nothing else went wrong, he’d make the rehearsal dinner.

  Which meant, for the first time in six years, he’d be in the same room with her.

  Callie.

  Adrenaline burst at the base of his neck. Knowing her, she’d only be in town for the weekend, so if he missed the wedding he’d miss his chance to talk to her. And he had to talk to her. He couldn’t stand this silence between them.

  Couldn’t stand what he’d done.

  His one fatal decision…Jesus, it crawled all over his skin like fire ants, stinging and making him burn. A constant reminder that he couldn’t take it back…and it drove him out of his mind.

  He had to make it right, once and for all.

  At least this time she couldn’t avoid him. Not at her brother’s wedding. His pulse spiked at the thought of seeing her again. She’d probably get in his face, all snarky and sarcastic. Yeah, that’s Callie. Call him out on his shit. Like she should’ve done at the time.

  Because, yeah, he’d screwe
d up—colossally—and that was on him, but she’d never let him apologize, and that was on her.

  An image sprang to mind of Callie laughing, her whole body shaking with it. Her platinum hair wild and tousled after a trail ride. Just like Callie herself. Wild, fierce. Uninhibited.

  His body vibrated with anticipation.

  “I don’t know how you can think about anything other than a hot shower.” Bram, his videographer, was the oldest and most civilized of all of them. “I stink so bad my eyes are watering.”

  “I want to get home.” Fin hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

  “Aw.” Traci tipped her chin to the treeline. “Looks like you’ll make it.”

  Thank Christ. He’d get to be Ryder’s best man…

  And be with Callie. Energy blasted through him. He wanted to see her more than he wanted a shower, a burger…or anything. They’d always had this combustible energy. Irrepressible, smoking-hot chemistry. Even after so many years together, it had never gotten old, never faded.

  But what would he see when he looked into her eyes now? Hate he could handle—that meant she still felt something—but indifference?

  The idea that she’d be over him—that she’d feel nothing—made him sick to his stomach.

  No. Not possible. Determination came roaring in. She was pissed at him—he understood that—but if he could just have time alone with her, he could fix it.

  “Too bad we didn’t get to finish filming.” Traci glanced back at him. “I always wanted to be in one of your movies.”

  “I’ve got enough footage to put something together,” Bram said.

  “Well, you definitely got enough to get Fin that cover,” Traci said. “Dude, you were on fire.”

  Fin’s fingers flexed in his gloves. He probably shouldn’t have told them about it—not until it was confirmed—but his manager had texted him at the airport just before they’d taken off. He had a shot at National Adventurer’s “Athlete of the Year.” Hard to keep a nomination like that to himself.

  “I’ve been gone a month,” Bram said. “So I’ve got some catching up to do before I put the movie together, but I’ll get some footage up on your website pretty quick.”

  Fin didn’t give a damn about any of the website crap, but as a backcountry snowboarder, he made his living off endorsements, and the more popular his films, the more money he made. Hosting a site was a small price to pay if it meant he could make his living freeriding.

  “And I can’t believe you fixed my drop-in.” Traci reached behind her for a fist bump, and Fin tapped her glove. “I’ve been with my coach seven years, and he couldn’t figure out what I was doing wrong. How did you see that I was taking it too fast?”

  “That’s what he does,” one of the guys said.

  “See?” Traci said. “You deserve that cover. I’m gonna frame it and send it to you with a case of Cristal.”

  “Ha.” Bram chuckled. “Don’t waste champagne on Mr. My-Body-Is-My-Temple.”

  Everyone liked to make fun of the Bowies for their clean living, but how did they think his three older brothers had crammed the shelves of their dad’s trophy room? The oldest, Will, had won the Men’s World Freestyle Games an unprecedented seven times.

  And if you get the cover, you’ll finally have something in there.

  Fin glanced ahead, relieved to see the spine had given way to broader mountain. He breathed easier knowing they were that much closer to a safe return.

  “When do they decide?” Bram asked.

  “The issue comes out in November,” another guy said.

  “And it’s only June,” Traci said. “So the timing for this trip’s perfect. Just get that footage up.”

  He didn’t do these trips to make the cover of a magazine, but he still wanted it. He wanted to see his brothers’ faces when he dropped the magazine in their laps. Winning “Athlete of the Year” would impress the hell out of them.

  “Hey, so when’re we going out again?” his friend asked.

  A lot went into planning a trip. Not only did Fin have to deal with everyone’s schedules, but he had to organize insurance and supplies and work with foreign governments. Given his requirement that all his teammates be certified in avalanche rescue and wilderness first responder classes, Fin tended to travel with the same crew. It just made it easier. Although, of course, this time Traci had been an exception.

  “I’m hanging out with my godson while Ryder’s on his honeymoon,” Fin said. “But I’ll start planning right after that.” He kept a wish list of remote mountains no one had ever visited.

  “Don’t even talk about it,” Traci said. “There’s no way I can go back out with you. It was hard enough getting my coach to let me go on this trip. He’ll never let me go a second time.” She grumbled. “Oh, my God, you guys, I want off this mountain so bad. You can have your burgers and showers. All I want’s a pedicure. My feet are freaking gnarly.”

  No matter how broken-in the boots, the steep descent on a mountain summit meant bloody, numb toes.

  “Swear to God, that’s the first—” Traci’s voice cut off with a grunt. One moment the sun glanced off her blonde, shiny hair, and the next she was gone.

  Fin’s harness jerked hard. Shit. “Trace?” Heart pounding, he dropped to the ground, rolled onto his belly, and jammed his axe into the crusty snow. The third guy on his rope team mimicked his actions, and they both kicked the tips of their boots into the snow until they got a solid grip. “Traci?” Still no answer. Dammit.

  Once secured, he pulled out his axe and jabbed it into a new spot, digging deep until it hit harder packed snow. He twisted until it could hold several hundred pounds of weight.

  The other three-man team had already leapt into action. Bram dropped his pack and pulled out his satellite phone.

  “Traci,” one of the guys called. “Talk to me.”

  The world went silent as Fin waited for her response. When it didn’t immediately come, Fin called, “You see her?” No matter how deep the crevasse she’d fallen in, the rope would ensure she didn’t drop more than fifteen feet. He just hoped she didn’t crack her head on the ice or break her back in the fall.

  “I see her. She’s wedged in pretty tight. Gonna need a Z-pulley.”

  “On it.” Boots crunched in the snow as the other two guys on the team got to work.

  “Let me see if I can get her.” On his knees, Bram reached into the narrow drop.

  A moment later, Traci let out a terrible cry of anguish.

  Fuck, she’s hurt.

  “Okay, okay.” Bram turned to them with a concerned expression.

  “My leg.” Traci’s voice sounded strained.

  Fin had to get to her—now—but he couldn’t move until they’d set up the anchor. “Come on, man.”

  “Hang on, Trace,” someone said. “We’re on it.”

  “Can’t…breathe,” she said.

  Fin shot a look to the guys setting up the pulley. Ready? One of them gave a curt nod.

  The moment Fin transferred his rope to the anchor, he jumped to his feet. Dumping his backpack, he peered over the edge of the narrow crevasse to see her suspended between the icy walls. Pure blackness beneath her let him know the hole ran deep.

  “I got you, okay?” He kept his voice calm, but blood roared in his ears. “Give me two minutes.” He dropped to his knees beside his pack.

  “Fin,” Traci called.

  It sucked to hear the fear in her voice. “I’m right here.” He needed to keep her calm, so he went with distraction. “Which leg, Trace?”

  “Um…” The word game out breathy, laced in pain. “Right?”

  “What do you think you did to it?” He pulled rope from his backpack and tossed it to one of his teammates. Together, they set up an anchor.

  “Hurts. So bad.”

  “Here I come.” With the rope tied to his harness, Fin dropped into the crevasse, kicking his crampons into the ice to get a foothold. “Right here.”

  She let out a ragged breath. “My
knee.”

  “Bram already called the heli. It’s on its way. We’ll get you all fixed up, promise.” Knees bent, weight carried on his thighs, Fin got close enough to make a quick assessment. Tipping his head back, he called, “Gotta cut the pack off her. Toss me a rope.” With his teeth he tugged off his glove and shoved it under the harness. Touching her chin, he made it seem like he was giving her comfort, but his thumb flicked over her neck until he found her pulse. Thready.

  Dammit. Pulling his knife from his pocket, his painfully cold and stiff fingers unsheathed it, and he sliced through the straps of her pack. Then, thighs burning, he tied the rope to the loop and yanked on it. “Go.”

  Immediately, he felt the tension in the line, but the jerk caused a sharp exhalation from Traci.

  “Stop.” The rope slackened right away. Jamming his hand back into the glove, he pulled his axe out of the loop on his boarding pants and started chipping away at the ice. Damn, her lips were starting to turn blue. “What’re the six rules of crevasse rescue?”

  “The what?”

  “Six rules.”

  “There aren’t six rules, you asshole.”

  He glanced up to see a smile had eased Bram’s tension.

  But then Traci groaned. “Fin.”

  She was tough, so hearing that shuddery breath unnerved him. “Two more seconds.” The next chop sent a sheet of ice plummeting. He tugged on the rope, and the guys lifted the backpack out. He had his arms around her the moment she was freed. With his mouth at her ear, he said, “Breathe for me. Nice big breath, okay?”