Broken Boys Can't Love (The Boys #5) - Micalea Smeltzer



That’s what Jude is to me.

My older brother doesn’t trust me with his player of a best friend.

Which is totally fine, because I’m not interested.

As Jude and I reluctantly become friends, I start to see that there’s more to him than others notice. But I still won’t go there, not when I have a crush on someone else. But Jude’s the perfect person to help show me the ropes when it comes to the opposite sex, besides it’s not like he’ll get attached to me.

Except he does.

And the thing about broken boys?

They’re way too easy to fall for.

For all the hopeless romantics.

I hope you have your own “book-worthy” romance.



I’m living in a houseful of dudes.

Not just any dudes either, no, a bunch of jocks, one of which being my brother.

But I won’t let that stop my sunshine.

I, Millicent Madison, am finally, blessedly, on my own. Well, for the most part. I love my parents, I really do, and I’m so lucky to have such great ones, but they can be overbearing. This is why I was so insistent on enrolling at Aldridge University. It’s my brother’s senior year, so that means he won’t be around much longer. It gives me time with him before we fully transition to adulthood, while also getting to stand on my own two feet.

But as exciting as all of that is, there’s one teeny tiny issue.

My brother’s friend, and now my roommate, Jude.

Hot as fuck with tousled dark brown, nearly black hair, a constant 5 o’clock shadow, angry brows coupled with the most perfect pillowy lips I’ve ever seen. They don’t make guys like him back home. No, those guys are preppy prep school little shits that just want to spend daddy’s money and crash their expensive cars. I know from my brother, Cree, that Jude comes from a prominent family, but you wouldn’t know it with the rugged handsomeness of him. He’s just different.

And a total manwhore—at least, according to Cree.

The four of us—me, Cree, Jude, and their friend Daire—have only been settled in the off-campus home for a day. Classes don’t start for a few more days and I’m already a nervous wreck over it.

Everything is so big here.

It’s overwhelming.

My alarm goes off, jostling me from my thoughts and reminding me that I’ve spent the past ten minutes awake, staring at my ceiling, while thinking about Jude. The only reason I even have my alarm set is because I want to get used to getting up early again since I spent the summer sleeping in until noon unless I had to be at the dance studio. I’ve been doing ballet practically since I could walk. I know a lot of people, my family included, were shocked when I didn’t accept an offer from an art school with a ballet program. But while I love ballet with my whole being, I don’t want to be a professional ballerina. I want to continue appreciating it as a hobby.

Throwing my covers off, I swing my legs out of bed and open the bathroom door to the shared space between mine and Jude’s room. I’m not paying attention, or I would’ve noticed the light on inside, the barest hint of yellow leaking from beneath the door.

Opening it, steam hits me in the face, and a moment later my jaw drops at the sight of a naked Jude getting out of the shower. He hasn’t heard me yet, and I’m frozen, staring at his … at his penis. Because it’s right there, and it’s huge, and it’s just hanging right in front of me. I’ve never seen one in person. A penis. Cock. Dick. Whatever you want to call it. I mean, I’ve seen them in porn before, but not … not like this.

Are they always so big?

A smattering of dark hair trails beneath his navel, leading down to well-trimmed hair, that frames his … cock.

“Jesus, fuck,” he curses, grabbing a towel and holding it front of his junk.

Why does he have to hide it? I wasn’t done looking.

“I’m sorry,” I cringe, slapping a hand over my eyes. “I-I opened the door and you and I and your—” I wave my hand in the vicinity of said cock was just moments ago.

Why didn’t he lock the door to my room?

Why am I glad he didn’t?

He blows out a breath, looking frustrated. Not with me, though, but with himself. “Don’t tell your brother. He won’t believe this was an accident.” His tone is utterly perturbed.

I peak through my fingers and