Page 59 of The Boyfriend Goal

Then, he curls that big hand a little tighter around me. A rush of tingles spread down my back. From that.

That’s my answer—it’ll be harder.

20

DOUBLE CHECKMARK

Wesley

She deserves a prize, and there’s only one thing to get my bold librarian who faced down the beast of her fear and slayed it.

An hour or so later, I hold out the door to An Open Book on Fillmore Street. It’s close to my house, but beyond that I can’t tell anyone much about it. I don’t hang out here.

But Josie lights up as she walks through the entrance, passing a sign for the Page Turners Book Club. “If I’d known I was getting a book as a prize, I’d have been a little less dramatic before class.”

“My bad,” I say dryly. “I should have told you.”

“It’s okay. I forgive you.” She beelines for the thrillers. That’s not what I’d expected. I’d have pegged her for something…sweeter. I join her as she flips through a book with a dark window on the cover. “I’m into thrillers this month,” she explains before I can ask. “Since it’s October. Halloween and all. Next month it’ll be lit fic. The month after, romance. I’m an omnivore when it comes to books.” She snaps up a paperback called The Woman in the Hotel. “What about you? Can I get you one too?”

For a guy who’s quick on his feet, you’d think I’d have anticipated this moment. But nope. Didn’t cross my mind she’d want to get me a reward gift as well. “Nah, I’m good,” I say, keeping my answer light and easy, hoping she doesn’t ask more questions.

But no such luck.

“I don’t mind. I have the money,” she says. Ah, hell, she thinks it’s a finance thing, like when I refused her rent offer. “I pay my landlord in a couple pieces of fruit a week, so I’ve got extra.”

“I’m all good,” I say, and just so she doesn’t try to buy me something, because she would—the fruit is the evidence—I add, “I prefer to read digitally.”

That’s a lie, but it’s one that must make perfect sense to a reader like her since she says, “Oh, sure. I get that.”

But as we head to the counter, I picture her sneak attacking me with a gift later, in the form of an e-book delivered to an e-reader I don’t have. I’d be a jerk if I let her do that. For now though, I try to ignore this guilty feeling though as I buy her the book, then nod toward the café. “Want a cup for surviving item number two? Or is it too late for you?”

“It’s way past my bedtime, but I will still take that victory cup, thank you very much,” she says, lifting her chin, proud and rightfully so.

After we order and sit with our coffees, I say, “You should know I wrote your eulogy during the yard of the month bit.”

“You did?”

“You demanded it,” I say, then take a drink.

She sweeps out an arm. “I want to hear it.”

After the other night when I unbuttoned my shirt for her in the kitchen, and after this evening when we flirted on stage, I don’t hold back. I lean back in the chair, then, like I’m speaking before a crowd, I say, “She died flirting with a sexy stranger.”

“Not a bad way to go.”

“Fucking the sexy stranger would be better,” I say, before I can think the better of it.

She blinks, her lips parting, and I love that look. Love her response even more when she says, “Yes, it would be a preferable way to go.”

For a moment, the air between us is charged, sparking with possibilities. Her blue eyes darken, flames flickering in them.

But the flame gutters out because of those damn roomie rules. Because we’re not going there. Because flirting during improv is one thing. Doing it in real life is another. Best to steer this ship elsewhere. “What changed for you? On stage? You seemed pretty good at improv in the end,” I continue. “I’m curious.”

“I thought about my aunt. She once said—when I was heading into a debate class in high school—that it was okay to be afraid. That memory sort of boomeranged back to me tonight. Like a reminder that it’s okay to sit with discomfort.”

I chew on that, thinking of how I’m sitting with the discomfort over her wanting to buy me a book. “Good advice. I probably feel that more than I’d admit.”

“Discomfort or fear?”

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