Page 108 of The Boyfriend Goal

“To the pancake breakfast?” I ask, more breathily than the question demands. But that’s how I feel with Wes. A little light-headed all the time.

“Yes.” He seems dead set on this. A little fiery too. His eyes are darker than usual. I’m getting dangerously turned on as he says, “Put it on, Josie.”

The command in his voice sends a wicked thrill through me, straight to my core. I whip off my top and change in front of him, sliding his jersey over my cami. It’s big and baggy.

“Fuck, you look hot,” he says in a dirty rumble.

I suspect he’ll be thinking about taking it off me the whole time I wear it since there’s nothing friendly about the way he’s looking at me.

I’m in front of the library, finishing up the romance display—putting the new Hazel Valentine next to a TJ Hardman, since I would definitely recommend those two together—as Wes sets out recyclable plates.

“Should I read this one?” a masculine voice asks.

I turn toward a strapping fireman with a thick beard. He’s just strolled over to the display, and he’s pointing to the Hazel Valentine book.

“If you like banter, spice, clever plots, and happily-ever-afters,” I say with a smile.

The man holds my gaze for a beat, his gray eyes twinkling with…possibility, I think. “All of the above,” he says, then adds, “I’ll have to check it out.” He looks around the breakfast area, full of tables and serving trays, then back to me, a smile forming. “I’m Tom. I’d love to get some more recs from you. Maybe after work some time?”

Did this nice fireman just ask me out? Before I can even process my surprise, a throat clears. Out of nowhere Wes is right by my side, wrapping an arm around me.

“She has a whole display of them right here. Those are her recs.” His arm bands tighter around my waist, curling over my hip. “You don’t have to get them from her after work since she’s busy.”

Someone is staking his claim.

Tom holds up his hands in surrender. “Sorry, man.”

“It’s all good,” Wes says, in a tone laced with don’t let that happen again.

Tom nods at me with an apologetic smile, then walks away.

I turn to Wes, arching a brow at his boyfriend behavior. Color me intrigued. “Are you marking me?”

He’s unrepentant with his “yes.”

I furrow my brow. “He was only asking for book recs.”

“And maybe he legit wanted them. But he also wanted you. And you don’t have any idea how sexy you are. How often men check you out. You have no clue.”

“And it’s your job to ward them off?” I’m not annoyed. I am curious though.

He nods. “Yes. It is. It’s that simple.”

Yeah, boyfriend behavior.

And the low pull in my belly tells me I like it.

After a squeeze of my hip, Wes returns to serving pancakes next to me as several families pass through.

Eddie’s on my other side, and when there’s a lull in the action, he nudges me. “Is something up with you and Number Sixteen? Mister Hockey has been staring at you this whole freaking morning like he wants to have you on his pancakes.”

A tingle coasts down my spine, but a kernel of worry rolls along it too. “We’re…friends,” I say, because that’s true enough.

Eddie sketches air quotes. “Yes, friends. Did you know my hubs and I were friends at one point as well?”

“Then you understand,” I say, avoiding the topic with an oh so innocent smile.

“I understand,” he says, then lets his gaze drift to Wes. “I understand everything.”

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