Home > Broken Boys Can't Love (The Boys #5)

Broken Boys Can't Love (The Boys #5)
Author: 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 find that, sadly, the towel has been wrapped around his waist. Though, he certainly makes my pale pink towel look way better than it did on the shelves at the store.

“That’s my towel,” I state stupidly, because frankly I’m still in shock after seeing my first in-person penis. This is a monumental moment for me.

He looks down at the pale pink—my favorite color—towel and back at me. “Do you … want it back?”

“Oh, um, no. You … uh … just keep it on.”

His lips twitch with the threat of a smile, his hands on his trim waist. God, he has big hands. “Millicent?”

I wrinkle my nose at the use of my full first name since I prefer Millie. “Yes?”

“I need to finish up in here.”

“Right!” I practically scream the word. I hustle back a few steps and slam the door closed, his laughter audible through the wood.

I smack my hand to my forehead. I hate myself.



I thought it would be genius to just move my stuff to Daire’s bathroom and use that one since it would save me from more run-ins with Jude’s penis.

Even if I kind of want to see it again.

But the idea of him walking in on me naked? That’s terrifying. Not that I think he’d do anything about it, but… It would be embarrassing for me. Already in the few days we’ve all been living under the same roof I’ve heard Daire and my brother ribbing him about his exploits and the types of girls he likes.

They sound nothing like me.

Not with my petite frame. I have barely a B-cup, but my butt is pretty nice, I guess. Ballet keeps me toned, but it also makes me more muscular than other girls.

One of the girls at my high school sneered at my legs once when we were changing for gym. She told me guys don’t like muscular girls and that not only stuck with me, but it hurt too. I don’t know what makes people think they have any right to comment on anyone’s body.

There’s a knock on my bedroom door. I’ve mostly been hiding out in my room today since the guys have all commandeered the living room.

“Come in.” I know more than likely it’s my brother.

The door squeaks open and he leans against the open doorway with an amused smile. His wavy brown hair is pushed back from his forehead like he keeps shoving it out of his eyes. “I hear you have a ton of razors in the bathroom. A bathroom that isn’t even yours.”

My cheeks pinken. There’s no way I can tell him why. Not only because I promised Jude I wouldn’t say anything, but also because it was a total accident walking in on him and I know Cree wouldn’t believe that. He’d probably twist it around and think Jude just came into my room, dick swinging, for funsies.

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