Another hilarious, flirty, and brilliant novel from Emma Hart!
Emma has truly found her writing niche in her sassy and sexy characters, and she definitely did not disappoint with Peyton and Elliot! While the enemies to lovers concept is not anything new in the romance category, Emma put her own fresh brand on it and made The Hook-up Experiment an amazing read from start to finish. I know writing and finishing this novel was not easy for her as her carpal tunnel has gotten to the point where every day tasks are extremely painful and take forever, but it does not show in her writing and that is some true dedication right there. Emma, if you are reading this, YOU GO GIRL! But also, take care of yourself so that you can share those brilliantly dirty thoughts with the rest of the world down the road (as well as your two awesome kids as well!)
Peyton is sassy and stubborn, and a true inspiration. She does not take shit, started her own hook-up company named Pick-a-Dick, and even owns her own home. She doesn't need a man other than for that genitalia that hangs between their leg and is perfectly happy not being in a relationship. The question you have to ask yourself is, what made her that way?
Enter Elliot. High school crush turned nemesis because he broke her heart and added salt to the wound. And his relationship with his daughter Briony? Yeah, you will be swooning for him in no time. Who doesn't love a dad who puts up with Disney movies, hand washes princess dresses, and makes the same breakfast without complaint day after day?
I highly recommend you give this book a read and CANNOT WAIT for the sequel in the duet, The Dating Experiment. Peyton was first introduced in Emma's last novel, The Upside to Being Single, however you do not need to read it before The Hook-up Experiment. I highly recommend it though, as Mellie and Jake are equally amazing characters!
Excerpt from The Hook-up Experiment by Emma Hart:
“Is she okay with that juice?” Peyton watched her go.
I selected the Blu-ray from the cupboard and shot a smirk her way. “Sorry to break it to you, but you’re getting a juice box.”
“I can live with that.”
I turned away and hit the eject button on the player. “You didn’t have to say yes to her, you know.”
“Of course, I had to. Have you seen those eyes? How do you say no to her, ever?”
“I think of all the times she screams and swings her arms like a tiny terrorist, and it’s pretty easy.” I put the disk in and turned around.
Peyton had one eyebrow raised. “See, now, I’d think that’s reason to say no.”
“It depends on the day. Sometimes it results in her being put to bed to calm down, which means she ends up taking a rare afternoon nap, and I get some peace and quiet.”
“That’s a thing around her? She was talking to me for thirty minutes flat about what I did and didn’t like.”
“Only thirty minutes? Lucky you. She has about three hours of material of that.” I took a seat on the sofa, making sure to leave space between us for Bri. “Did she get started on hedgehogs yet?”
Peyton looked a little confused. “Hedgehogs?”
“YouTube is the devil.”
“That…was quite the jump in subject.”
I laughed as the main menu music hit on the TV. “I’m going to preface this by saying kids are weird.”
“Some get that from their parents.”
I blinked at her for a second. She wasn’t wrong if half these people who had a mini-career opening fucking toys on YouTube were parents.
“There are a bunch of stupid videos on YouTube, and apparently, watching people open toys is thrilling.”
Now, she looked really confused.
“And on one of those she watched, the person had a pet hedgehog who wasn’t having the nonsense of her opening a Hatchimal on camera, so it stole the egg.”
She blinked several times in quick succession. “I have no idea what you just said, and if I’m honest… Please don’t explain it.” I laughed and hit play on the TV.
“Here’s your dooce-box,” Briony said, handing Peyton two. “And das mine. I can’t do the straws.”
“Oh. Right. Okay.” Peyton looked at the two juices that had been thrust at her.
Smiling, I took one from her. I pulled the straw off the back, out of the tiny plastic slip, and poked it through the foiled hole in the top. “There you go,” I said to Briony. “What do you want for dinner?”
She put the straw in her mouth and pursed her lips as she sucked the juice up. Peyton watched her, lips twitching, as she put her straw in place.
“Pizza!” Briony announced.
Oh no. I’d eaten too much pizza lately.
Was there such a thing as too much pizza?
Maybe if the toppings were changed up…
“Peydon, do you want pizza?” Bri asked, leaning right into her.
“I like pizza,” she replied, smiling sweetly down at her. “What’s your favorite?”
“I like spots and cheese.”
“Spots?”
I coughed on my water. “Pepperoni,” I explained. “They look like spots on the pizza.”
Peyton’s eyes met mine for a minute. Silent laughter shone back at me. That really was toddler logic at its finest.
“You know,” she said, looking down at Peyton. “Spots are my favorite, too!”
Once again, Briony gasped. “Reawy?”
“Really, really. I love spots.”
Oh, Jesus.
It might have been a mistake introducing these two. Not only was my daughter becoming increasingly obsessed with someone who seemed to be a brunette, adult version of her…
No, that was the problem. Peyton was the brunette, adult version of Briony, attitude and all—and if there was anything my daughter didn’t need, it was someone who could teach her a thing or ten about sarcasm.
“I’ll order pizza,” I said, going to stand.
“Oh, you got it last time. I’ll go call them.” Peyton put her juice on the side table and tried to move, but Briony stopped her. “No. Mimi told me that only gentlemen buy dinner. Princesses sit and look priddy.”
Peyton looked down at her. “Sit and look pretty? I like to buy my own pizza sometimes, and that’s okay.”
Without missing a beat, Briony said, “Princesses sit and look priddy so the mens buying dinner don’t know dat we can kick dere butts.”
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