Let’s Get Physics – Love 101 Read Online Mila Crawford

Categories Genre: Insta-Love, Romance, Virgin Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 25349 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)

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Let's Get Physics - Love 101

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Mila Crawford

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They told me I would never amount to anything, that I would always be a lowlife, with nothing more to offer than street smarts. I proved them all wrong by becoming a professor at one of the top ranked universities in the country. But even now, they look at me, judge me, making me feel like a wolf in sheep’s clothing. I did everything I could to escape my seedy past and it felt like

I was successful until the day she walked into my class. I could tell right away that she was different from the rest, but what I didn’t know was that she was rooted in the world I’d worked so desperately to escape from.

Like the great mind Jung said about physics, “what you resist, persists,” and I was about to learn that the past always finds a way of catching up with you.
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Mila Crawford

Chapter 1


"You've got to be the only guy I know that can do multivariable calculus and beat the shit outta three hundred pound man," Lou Rivera said. He took the guard out of my mouth and splashed water in my face from the plastic bottle in his hand. I stared past him at the man in the other corner of the ring, his head falling slightly to the side, blood cascading down his cut-up face.

I'd been fighting in the ring for as long as I could remember. My first official boxing lesson took place when I was eight. At some point I did it for money, but now, I did it to prove to myself that I still had it.

The bell rang, and I pushed past Lou and circled around my opponent, who should have pummeled me to the ground in a heartbeat. Only thing was, I had something he didn't have—blood lust. You can take the kid out of the gutter, but you can’t get the gutter out of the kid.

The guy smirked at me as his handler whispered something I couldn't make out. Obviously, he had some money on this fight; he was counting on me to fall, but I was done with that shit. I didn't fall for anyone, not anymore.

We circled each other, he jabbed at me, I ducked, and then I saw the perfect opportunity for a knockout and hit him straight on the nose. He went down for the count. Asshole meet ground. The referee kneeled over my opponent and counted before announcing the winner.

"That was amazing," Lou said as he tossed a robe on me and passed me a towel. "You let it go too long. You had me worried for a second."

"I haven't lost a fight in fourteen years. There was nothing to be worried about."

"Wanna go get a beer?"

"Can't. I teach in the morning."

"I can't believe you still pull that off. Are you sure no one knows about your hobby? How the fuck do you explain the bruises all over your face?"

I stopped getting dressed and turned to look at Lou. "They know I'm really into boxing and martial arts." I shrugged. "Accidents happen and all that shit. Pro or hobby? Why should they care? Just because I’m educated doesn’t mean I don’t like a good rush of adrenaline every now and again. When's the next fight scheduled?"

"You want to fight straight through the season?"

"As long as my hands hold up, I’m game."

"You're a fucked up son of a bitch, Emery, you know that?" Lou said as he slammed me on the back.

"Count your blessings, Rivera. If I weren’t fucked in the head, I wouldn't be such a good fighter. Some people go to talk therapy, I like working my problems out in the ring."

Lou stared at me, his crow’s feet and deep smile lines more visible than they usually were, making me recognize that the years hadn't been too kind to him. I met Lou when I was only seventeen; he'd be pivotal in helping me clean up my act and actually making something out of my life. He'd been the only father figure I'd ever known. If it weren’t for him, I'd have probably been dead long ago; another statistic who walked the wrong side of the tracks until the train finally ran over him.

When I met Lou, I was a punk kid with a massive chip on my shoulder and a thirst for making people hurt the way I did. My best friend Mike and I had stolen from Lou, robbed the paltry money box he kept locked in the office one night after practice. He had every right to call the cops on us, let us suffer the consequences of our actions. Instead, he'd offered us the high road, told us we could repay our debt by working it off it, so we did. Once the penance was up, Mike left and never looked back, but I stayed, taking a job at Lou's gym. That one small decision turned out to be the best I ever made.

Lou flipped through a black Moleskin notebook. "Two Saturdays from now?"

Just as I was about to check my phone for my own schedule, the locker room door flew open, and a petite, curvy girl walked in.

"Oops, sorry," she screeched, covering her eyes, and turning away. "I thought there wasn’t anybody here."

"Hey, Celia, we were just packing up," Lou said. He grabbed his duffel and threw it over his shoulder. “Celia this is Emery. Emery—Celia.”

"Nice to meet you! Please, don’t rush on my account. If you need more time, I can just come back in twenty minutes."

"Don't be silly, no reason for you to extend your shift because we’re not out of your way." Lou clapped me on the back again. "We can finish this outside, right Boss?"