Thirsty by Mia Hopkins is the first book in the Eastside Brewery series. Read an exclusive excerpt from the novel here!

Related: Thirsty by Mia Hopkins book review: A beautiful, emotional read about over coming obstacles

About ‘Thirsty’ by Mia Hopkins:

My name is Salvador Rosas. Back in the barrio, my past is written on the walls: ESHB. Short for East Side Hollenbeck, my father’s gang—my gang. Hell, it’s a family tradition, one that sent both my brothers away. They used to call me “Ghost” because I haunted people’s dreams. Now I’ve got nothing going for me except a hipster gringo mentoring me in a new career. An ex-con making craft beer? No mames.

Still, people in this neighborhood look out for one another. That’s how I became Vanessa Velasco’s unwelcome tenant. Chiquita pero picosa. She’s little, but with curves so sweet they’re dangerous. I remember Vanessa from the old days, the straight-A student with big plans. Plans that were derailed by another kid stupid enough to think he was bulletproof. Now Vanessa knows better than to believe in empty promises. There’s fire in her . . . and if I touch her, I might get burned.

I’m trying everything I can to go straight. But when East Side Hollenbeck comes calling, I might have to risk it all to find out if there’s a future for Vanessa and me. Because she’s the only one who can quench my thirst for something real.

‘Thirsty’ by Mia Hopkins exclusive excerpt:

The binding holding the chain in place comes loose and snaps off the frame. Before Vanessa falls I dive forward to catch her, losing my balance and slipping on the grass. I slide onto my back like I’m stealing second base. She lands in my lap, swing and all, laughing and cursing and screaming at me.

I am so mad at myself. I just assured her something wouldn’t happen right before it did.

“Oh my God. Look. I told you. I told you my fat ass would break this swing! So embarrassing. Jesus.”

Her cheeks are bright red, her hair is streaming all around me, and I’m so hurt and worried inside that I don’t know what to do. Do I laugh, or do I say nothing? Do I make a joke, or do I apologize? It’s like I’ve forgotten what a human being would do in this situation, and all I can do is lie here underneath her, paralyzed.

She turns to see if I’m okay and suddenly the laughter in her eyes is gone, replaced by concern. I don’t want her pity. I try to slide away, out of her grip—this is too close, we’re too close. But she puts her hand on my arm and pins me to the ground with that straightforward Vanessa Velasco stare.

“What?” she says. “What the hell is wrong with you, Sal?”

“Where should I begin?” I ask. “I’m sorry.”

“For the swing?” She puts her hands on my chest and sits up in my lap. We’re still tangled up in the warm grass and when I look up at her, I think she is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. She looks me in the eye again. “I don’t care about the swing. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” I say, when the opposite is true. I fake a little laughter. “I got a fine-ass woman lying on top of me. What could be wrong?”

Vanessa doesn’t buy it. “I talked to my grandmother about you.” She sits up straighter but for some reason—to torture me, I think—she doesn’t get out of my lap.

“And what did she say?”

“She says you’ve been a good boy since you got out of prison. Working. Keeping clean. Staying away from Ruben and your old crew.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Your face,” she says.

“What about it?”

“It doesn’t look like the face of a man with a clean conscience.”

“Do I look guilty?”

“No.” She stares at me a bit longer. She touches my cheek with the tip of her finger and it feels like a match igniting against my skin. “You look like you’re in pain.”

There are people who dance around what they mean and hide what they know. There are people who talk to you and ask you questions not because they care to know about who you are or what you feel but because they want to know how to exploit you, how to use you for their own purposes, and how to use your pain against you. Vanessa does none of these things. She gets right to the ugly part of the matter and shines a bright light on it. I suppose that’s what accountants are supposed to do. See where the numbers are wrong and shine a spotlight on them. To say, “Here’s where you’re weak. Here’s the hole where the money’s draining out. Here’s how to fix it.”

“So?” she says.

“So what?” My voice is quiet against her touch.

“Are you? In pain?”

For a moment, I have no words to answer with. Vanessa is smarter than me—she’s got the upper hand on me, and she knows it. My body struggles to find the balance between us. Without thinking too hard about it, I reach up and slide my hands through her hair. I can feel her warm scalp against my fingertips and a shiver runs through her. I rest my thumb softly against her neck and I can feel her pulse go faster, fluttering hard like a tiny heart against her skin. The neckline of her baseball shirt is wide and goosebumps break out across her chest. Her cheeks flare redder.

“No,” I say softly, “I’m not in pain.”

Suddenly, Vanessa slides back on her knees until she’s straddling me. Great. How can I bare my soul to a woman who’s straddling me? All the blood in my body goes straight to my dick. My brain can’t operate like this. There’s not enough blood in my body to operate both my brain and my dick at once.

With a groan, I slide out from under her and try not to immediately regret the rejection I can read in her eyes. To go easy on her, I take her wrists in my hands and pull her closer so that I can talk to her in a quiet voice.

“I’m not in pain,” I say again.

“Then what’s wrong?”

“I’m afraid,” I blurt out.

Thirsty by Mia Hopkins will be released on March 13! Pre-order now from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, iBooks, or Kobo. And don’t forget to add it to your Goodreads!