Page 137 of The Boyfriend Goal

“No. At least I hope not. But then, maybe…since you’ve pretty much ruined me,” he says, and I gasp.

I roll my lips together so I don’t shed happy tears before I even begin to read. He takes the letter from his pocket and hands it to me.

With eager fingers, I unfold it and read. My breath catches. Warmth cascades down my body. Wes is a man of few written words, but his words hit me in the center of my soul every time.

Dear Josie,

You said you thought you were a lot, but I’m a lot too. Why don’t we be a lot together instead of apart?

Xoxo

Wes

When I look up from the letter, all my emotions climb up inside me, soaring through my body. My heart is beating so fast. “Wes,” I say, just because it feels good to say his name again like he’s precious to me—because he is.

He captures my face in his big hands. “For a while there I thought I was falling in love with you. But it’s done. There’s no more falling. I am so ridiculously in love with you, it’s unreal. You’re not a distraction. You put me first and did something huge for me by trying to give me space for my job and what I thought was going on. And I was so, so stupid to let you step away. I’m not going to do that again.” He pauses and swallows, those warm brown eyes so vulnerable. “If you’ll have me again.”

I throw my arms around him. “I’m yours.” I drop a quick kiss to his lips, then pull back. “And I love you so much it’s kind of ridiculous too.”

I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. I don’t know where I’m going at the start of the new year. But I know I’m with him, no matter what.

47

RIP IT OFF

Josie

We barely make it out of his car. The second he turns off the engine, he curls his hand around my sweatshirt and jerks me close. He covers my mouth with his and kisses me like he’s gone mad. His fingers slide down my neck, his thumb tracing my collarbone, his mouth owning mine.

But my hip is pressing into the console, and that damn steering wheel is in the way, and there’s a whole house full of surfaces for us to use. I wrench away, panting. “Inside.”

He seems to blink off the fog of lust, then rasps out, “Now.”

We barely make it up the stairs to the main level. His hands are on my hips the whole time and he’s kissing the back of my neck. Tingles whoosh down my body with each step.

“Wes,” I warn him. “I can’t make it up the stairs if you do that.”

“Good. Let’s fuck on the stairs.”

“And the crying and wailing I’d feel tomorrow in my back would go on my list of regrets.”

He smacks my ass. “Move faster then, baby.”

I hustle up the stairs and toe off my sneakers in record time. The second they’re off and his are too, he hauls me back in his arms in the foyer. “Missed you so much.”

“It was only three days.”

“Too long,” he mutters, sweeping his hungry lips along the column of my neck.

“Same here,” I murmur, giving in to the way he touches me. How his lips move down my throat. How we’re both breathing frantically. How we need each other so much.

I rope my arms around his neck. “Fuck me now.”

He pulls back, a wicked grin spreading on his face. “Against the wall?”

“The wall, the couch, the floor—I don’t care,” I say, grabbing at his shirt, tugging on the material. I feel mad with hunger, feral even as I yank at his annoying buttons.

“Rip it off,” he urges.

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