Page 7 of Thick

Both of them are currently at work, and I'm having a rare quiet moment in their apartment where I can actually get some work done. I'm not a fussy girl—seriously, I'm not—but their hovering and general 'in your faceness'—as cute as it is—make it very hardfor me to concentrate on what needs to be done. And with my 'restricted' work hours, I'm starting to fall behind.

A beep on my phone pulls my focus from the test I'm running, and I can't help the giant smile on my face when I see it's a text from one of my online friends.

Mina: I need something new to read. Got any recs?

ZingyZelda: Honey, I've not read anything in weeks. Work has been insane.

Mina: GASP! BAD ZINGY! GO TO DNF NOW!

I giggle at the all-caps messages. She only gets like that when she's very excited, very Little, or very angry. Huh. So, most of the time, I guess.

ZingyZelda: A-Okay Captain!

She sends me a thumbs-up emoji, followed by two brown eyes ogling at me. Another giggle escapes before I lock my phone and stare at my laptop screen. With a huge sigh, I shut down and grab my purse. After jotting down a quick note for the terrible twins in case they come home, I shut the door behind me and head for my second-favourite place in the world.

DNF is themost amazingbookstore ever.

Everyone and everything, even unloved books, deserve a second chance and a second home. And DNF gives books that chance. As someone who feels a teensy bit unloved—okay, more than a teensy bit—I adore going there and finding new treasures.

The proprietors are a colourful bunch, and every time you enter the doors, you feel like you're being welcomed back home.

It doesn't take much convincing to get me to go there.

The fresh air and walk do me good, even though I'm getting a very annoying rash between my juicy, thick thighs. I should know better than to take a walk in a maxi dress in the middle of summer anyway.

By the time I get to the store, the rash stings a bit, but I grit down and surreptitiously try to tuck a piece of my voluminous skirt between my legs to try and soothe the chafing.

One of the staff members behind the counter waves hello, and I smile in return as I head for the front display. Luckily, the book I'd been hoping for is still there, and I quickly grab it as if someone is about to take it from me.

I give myself permission to browse for a bit longer, adding two more books to my pile before paying for them and heading back out.

And as luck would have it—or me—I'm so busy looking at the pretty pastel cover that I'm not paying enough attention to what's happening in front of me that I walk right into a huge wall. Well, maybe not a wall. Maybe just a very hard, very chiselled, very tempting chest.

"Shit, Zelda, are you okay?" Kaz says as he wraps his hands around the tops of my arms, steadying me. Unfortunately, this didn't mean that the books I had in my hands were saved from their fate. All of them fall onto the floor like a massive waterfall of words, only to pool at our feet in an uneven jumble of sexy, smutty phrases.

Kaz immediately bends down to pick them up. The only problem? I do the exact same thing atthe exact same time. Of course I do. My life is such a colossal cluster of cliches and ridiculous mishaps right now that I'm not even surprised. The two of us bump heads, and the shock of it has me falling backwards and landing on my ample butt. Luckily, I have enough cushioning, so it doesn't hurt too much. The only thing that really smarts is my damn pride.

At least Kaz is also rubbing at his head as he leans over me, holding out his other hand to move my hair away from my face.

Seriously. This man needs to stop being so damn tempting.

"You okay, Sugarplum?" he asks, concern laced in his voice, his eyebrows pinched together.

"Uh, yeah. Fine. All good." I stumble over my words, sounding like the complete idiot I am, but for some reason, he smiles at me like I'm the most adorable creature in the world.

Maybe Kaz is the idiot. Or maybe he bumped his head harder than he realised, and now Kaz has a concussion or amnesia and doesn't remember I'm not really his type and that he's married to a very handsome firefighter and is about to break his vows.

And it’s time for me to get out of my head.

During my internal ramble, he crouches down so he's no longer hovering over me and starts collecting the books that fell on the floor.

My heart stops.

The top book is nothing other than the very DDlg book I'd been admiring—the obviously kinky book that not only includes a grown-ass woman pretending to be a toddler while her Daddies look after her, but the book where she also hasthreeDaddies.

Way to make your preferences known, Zelda.

Although I suppose a lot of people read books with kinks that they don't actively participate in, I'm still not sure it's something I want my neighbours to know about me.

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