Excerpt: Meet Me Halfway by Kim Carmody

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About the Book

An ambitious journalist on a fast track to success.

A round one draft pick determined to keep his personal life his own.

And a documentary that proves sometimes opposites really do attract.

Olivia Callahan is a woman on a mission. When she lands a career defining opportunity in the male-dominated world of sports journalism, she knows it’s make or break time. Olivia’s boss has given her the green light to produce her very own documentary, and she’s not going to let anything get in the way of perfection.

After a few setbacks in college, Nate Sullivan is finally on his way to the big leagues as the newest recruit for the New York Warriors. Determined to put his somewhat colorful past behind him, Nate’s all about the straight and narrow as he sets out to prove he’s worthy of the first round draft pick that’s caused so much debate from fans and media.

The last thing Nate wants is to delve into stories from his past. But when his new team directs him to set the record straight, he has no choice but to cooperate with the feisty, determined reporter who shows up on campus. Olivia is thrilled that Nate Sullivan is her man. His colorful background is just the thing to take her story from memorable to award winning.

What neither of them expected is their attraction to one another, yet try as they might, determination gives way to temptation eventually. As Nate battles to protect his privacy and Olivia fights to produce the story of her career, they must decide what they’re willing to give up in order to gain each other.


“Thank you for back there.”

He grunted in response, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

We reached the motel entrance and I paused, turning to Nate when we got to the stairs that led to the second floor rooms. Without a word, he put his hand on my lower back, edging me on, and I heard the rickety wooden steps creak under his weight a second later. Apparently when he said he’d walk me home, he literally meant all the way to my door.

Pulling the key from my pocket, I stopped in front of my room and turned around to face him.

“I’m sorry if this has ruined your—” I froze mid-sentence as I took him in fully for the first time since we’d left the party, eyes roaming from his face down across his chest and back up again. “Oh my God, are you…you’re shaking.” I did another run over his body, his broad shoulders solid and firm but his arms vibrating ever so slightly, full of pent-up rage. Still. Four blocks later.

Dropping my key back in my pocket I clutched his wrists, tugging them gently.

He squeezed his eyes shut and pulled one arm from my grip, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry? What do you have to be sorry for?”

When he didn’t say anything, I pulled his hand away from his face. “Look at me.” I waited until he did, his head inclining on an exhale. “I really am fine. I promise. He barely touched me.” He still didn’t relax, and I only faltered for a split second before deciding on my next words, my need to calm him stronger than anything else. “Trust me, you got way closer than he did.”

A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth and his nostrils flared, his attention shifting to something other than the douchebag who was in all likelihood now nursing a broken nose. Unfortunately bringing up our little moment hadn’t really steered us to much safer territory.

I couldn’t look away from him, not with the way he was staring at me. I could see the war playing out behind his eyes, the need to wash away his rage with me, with us, even though it was possibly the worst decision he could make.

Let’s face it, it wasn’t going to be one of my better life choices either. I should have turned from him and gone inside.

I didn’t.

He took a step forward, closing the gap between us. My breath caught when he lifted me off the ground, his hands pulling my legs to wrap around his waist as he used his hips to push me up against the door.

And still he just stared at me.

Through his thin shirt, I could feel the frantic beat of his heart, the heat radiating off his skin.

“I won’t break,” I said, my voice that of a stranger, all soft and gentle, making me sound like I was in fact quite breakable.

His face dropped to my neck, lips hovering without actually kissing me, stubble tickling the soft skin there and I moved against him, pulling him closer. He grunted, dragging his face up, resting his forehead against mine. “I need you to go inside.”

I nodded, not caring if it was a bad idea to move this party into my room. And then realizing what he’d said, I opened my eyes. “Just me?”


Oh, right. Well that was unexpected.

“Are you umm…are you sure?”

He shut his eyes, shaking his head even as he said, “Yes.”

Taking his time to lower me to the ground, his hands followed the outline of my body and landed on my waist, squeezing just a little. “Go.” He started to pull away from me but leaned in at the last second and ran his nose along the line of my neck, inhaling my skin.  He squeezed my waist once more and with a pained expression said, “Go.”

I went.

About the Author

Kim Carmody lives in Australia with her husband, in a sunny little part of Melbourne that she never wants to leave. Except for frequent trips to New York, she is happy to leave at least once a year for those.

She holds a Masters in Commerce Marketing and while she spent her younger years training to become a professional dancer, she somehow ended up working in the sports industry, where she met her now husband.  Never a participant or spectator of sport growing up (she was too busy flitting around in a tutu), she has grown to appreciate, if not love many sports and eventually found herself writing about them too.

As an avid book lover from the moment she was introduced to The Babysitters Club as a seven year-old, Kim never expected to be able to call herself an author, but is beyond excited that she now can.

Meet Me Halfway is her second novel.

Connect with Kim: Website | Facebook | Goodreads | Instagram: @kimmycarmody