Now a major motion picture! The “deliciously intense” ( USA TODAY ) New York Times bestselling phenomenon follows a good girl drawn to a very bad boy... The new Abby Abernathy is a good girl. She doesn’t drink or swear and has the appropriate number of cardigans in her wardrobe. With the darkness of her past behind her, she believes her freshman year at college is the start of a new beginning. But then she meets Travis Maddox. Lean, cut, and covered in tattoos, Eastern University’s Walking One-Night Stand is exactly what Abby needs to avoid. Intrigued by her resistance to his appeal, Travis tricks her with a simple bet. If he loses, he must remain abstinent for a month. If Abby loses, she must live in his apartment for the same amount of time. Either way, Travis has no idea that he has met his match in this “beautifully sexy, beautifully intense, and beautifully perfect” (Jessica Park, New York Times bestselling author). " Beautiful Disaster is insanely addictive. Beautifully sexy, beautifully intense, and beautifully perfect. Jamie McGuire has written a damn good book." -- Jessica Park, author of New York Times bestseller Flat-Out Love "Characters, backstory, goals, motivations, and conflicts are a great mix of angst, crippling inner demons and harsh real life. The pace has a rhythmic beat of two steps forward, four steps back as Abby and Travis grapple with their fierce attraction. Jamie McGuire writes with no holds barred. She writes with honest reflection on young people who move through life by their own rules...The entire cast lives hard, fights hard, and certainly loves hard. Deliciously intense." ― USA Today Jamie McGuire is the New York Times bestselling author of Beautiful Disaster , Walking Disaster , A Beautiful Wedding , Almost Beautiful , and the Maddox Brothers series. She lives in Tulsa, Oklahoma, with her children and two rescue pups, Finn and Coco. Please visit JamieMcGuire.com. Chapter One: Red Flag Chapter One Red Flag EVERYTHING IN THE ROOM SCREAMED that I didn’t belong. The stairs were crumbling, the rowdy patrons were shoulder to shoulder, and the air was a medley of sweat, blood, and mold. Voices blurred as they yelled numbers and names back and forth, and arms flailed about, exchanging money and gestures to communicate over the noise. I squeezed through the crowd, following close behind my best friend. “Keep your cash in your wallet, Abby!” America called to me. Her broad smile gleamed even in the dim light. “Stay close! It’ll get worse once it starts!” Shepley yelled over the noise. America grabbed his hand and then mine as Shepley led us through the sea of people. The sharp bleating of a bullhorn cut through the smoky air. The noise startled me, and I jumped in reaction, looking for the source of the blast. A man stood on a wooden chair, holding a wad of cash in one hand, the horn in the other. He held the plastic to his lips. “Welcome to the bloodbath! If you are looking for Economics 101… you are in the wrong fucking place, my friend! If you seek the Circle, this is Mecca! My name is Adam. I make the rules and I call the fight. Betting ends once the opponents are on the floor. No touching the fighters, no assistance, no bet switching, and no encroachment of the ring. If you break these rules, you will get the piss beat out of you and you will be thrown out on your ass without your money! That includes you, ladies! So don’t use your hos to scam the system, boys!” Shepley shook his head. “Jesus, Adam!” he yelled to the emcee over the noise, clearly disapproving of his friend’s choice of words. My heart pounded in my chest. With a pink cashmere cardigan and pearl earrings, I felt like a schoolmarm on the beaches of Normandy. I promised America that I could handle whatever we happened upon, but at ground zero I felt the urge to grip her toothpick of an arm with both hands. She wouldn’t put me in any danger, but being in a basement with fifty or so drunken college boys intent on bloodshed and capital, I wasn’t exactly confident of our chances to leave unscathed. After America met Shepley at freshman orientation, she frequently accompanied him to the secret fights held in different basements of Eastern University. Each event was hosted in a different spot, and kept secret until just an hour before the fight. Because I ran in somewhat tamer circles, I was surprised to learn of an underground world at Eastern; but Shepley knew about it before he had ever enrolled. Travis, Shepley’s roommate and cousin, entered his first fight seven months before. As a freshman, he was rumored to be the most lethal competitor Adam had seen in the three years since creating the Circle. Beginning his sophomore year, Travis was unbeatable. Together, Travis and Shepley easily paid their rent and bills with the winnings. Adam brought the bullhorn to his mouth once again, and the yelling and movement escalated to a feverish pace. “Tonight we have a new challenger! East