Better When He's Bold

By: Jay Crownover


THERE IS SOMETHING ABOUT writing this series and spending time with these characters that makes me so happy. I love a challenge. I love a mess. I love something different and something that stretches me to do more and think harder.

I want to personally thank every single one of you who continues on this wild ride with me. It matters so much to me that you let me stretch my wings and do more than just one kind of book. I have so many ideas, so many stories to tell, I almost think I can’t get them all out and I know I would suffocate on my own creativity if all I had to do was the same thing over and over again. I love you and I love that we get to keep traveling this crazy journey together.

I know the Point and the boys that run it aren’t for everyone. I even understand that Race won’t be for everyone since he is very different from my typical rough-and-tumble boys. So it makes it extra special when I hear from those of you who like the change, in scenery and in men, because you have been there, have lived the hard life, or know someone who has, and appreciate the gutter getting as much love as the slick and polished big city. The dark side is fun . . . the boys who walk on it are something else.

I’m always going to write what interests me, what speaks to me, what moves me, and what I find fascinating and intriguing. Along the way I’ve met so many cool book people who appreciate that.

So enjoy the next dangerous installment of the Point series . . . here’s to chaos, here’s to blood, here’s to family, here’s to risk, here’s to chance, and most of all here’s to change because without it our view would never ever evolve and grow, no matter where we’re looking from.

~ Jay

Welcome to the Point . . . where this time, fortune favors the bold!

Chapter 1


SOME MEN ARE IMPOSSIBLE to ignore. It’s like everyone else around them is moving in slow motion, like everyone else is painted in black and white and he’s the only spot of color; the only thing moving in the room. Race Hartman was that kind of man. Even though an entire room full of loud, drunk, and excited party people separated us, even though I doubted he knew I was at the same house party as he was, all I could see was him. Tall and blond with a face and body designed to make the fairer sex stupid with lust, he was undeniably beautiful and delicious, like everything that was bad for you tended to be. I didn’t want to keep staring, but I couldn’t stop myself. He was just that dynamic—just that bold—and in my world, where things were gray and lifeless, he was a sensory feast and I was happy to gorge.

I missed the days when I just went to school, partied, had a good time, and acted like I didn’t have a care in the world. Those days were long gone, so I needed to stop gaping at Race like an idiot and get on with trying to enjoy the one night I had off from work and wasn’t needed at home. My little sister was at a sleepover, and my dad had agreed to stay home with my mom. It was a rare occurrence when I got to behave like a normal twenty-one-year-old, and I was squandering it by lusting after my best friend’s older brother, and probably the worst, most inappropriate guy in the entire world to have a crush on.

“Do you know him?”

My friend Adria was the one who had convinced me to come out tonight. I remembered parties like this being more fun. I took a sip of lukewarm beer out of a red plastic cup and fought the way my eyes wanted to magnetically drift to Race.

“He’s Dovie’s older brother.”


Her disbelief was justified. Where Race looked regal, like some kind of golden god sent down to rule over us mere mortals, Dovie Pryce was a rumpled redhead covered in freckles and about as unobvious as one person could be. She was cute at best, not impressive and heart-stopping like her brother. She was also the nicest person in the world. I was pretty sure Race didn’t have a nice bone anywhere in his impressive body.

My fingers curled around the cup tighter when his head turned and those mossy-green eyes met mine.

“Really.” My voice was huskier than normal even to my own ears.

“How can that be?”

I liked Adria. We had Business Finance together and she was one of the few people who hadn’t ditched me when I was forced to move back home after everything with my mom went down. I didn’t have much fun anymore, which meant I didn’t have many friends anymore either. Trying to explain to her the complicated dynamics in the Hartman family, though, was not something I planned on spending the evening doing. Race and Dovie’s lineage wasn’t a story that was particularly good times, and that’s what I was after tonight—a good time.

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