At Arm's Length

Jackson Schmidt is the biggest jerkity jerk ever. They should totally erect a statue to commemorate his jerkityness, jerkdom- Ugh! There are literally not enough words for 'jerk' to depict the man.Unfortunately, Jackson is also the most gorgeous specimen of manhood I've ever laid eyes on. One look at him and I want to jump and climb him like a tree. But whenever he opens his mouth, his status as the biggest bastard on the planet is immediately reinstated. It's impossible for the man to say anything remotely nice - at least not to me. To my best friend, though? To her, he's Mr. Perfect Gentleman. Did I mention he's carrying a torch for my engaged best friend? My libido does not give one flying hoot Jackson is a dick who has a crush on my bestie. Nope. Not at all. No matter how much of a schmuck the man is - and trust me he takes schmuck to the next level - I continue to pant after him like a nerdy freshman crushing on the prom king. If I want to keep my sanity, I'm going to have to keep Jackson at arm's length. Sanity is totally overrated. At Arm's Length is book 2 of the Love in the Suburbs series but can be read as a standalone.