Page 67 of Not Exactly a Small-Town Romance

I see him working very hard not to laugh.

“Your vagina is not a steel trap.”

“I think it is!”

“It worked before.”

“Not in years!” Oh, I didn’t mean to admit that.

His eyebrow lifts. “Years?”

Might as well put it out there. “Not since I started working for Desdemona. Life got too intense. I only met these jerks, all full of evil ambition.”

His hand returns to my back, applying smooth, even pressure. “It will work for the right person.”

“But what if it doesn’t?”

“It will.”

“I don’t know that.” But maybe I do. Because everything is feeling warm and happy since Zachery put his hands on me. “Hold up.”

“What now?” Zachery asks.

I turn back on my face. “Do that thing with my hair again.”

He laughs lightly, but he moves all the loose strands off my neck.

My whole body shivers.

I turn my face. “Is that a good sign?”

“Sure.”

“Do more.”

“Like . . . what?”

“Just the back thing.”

His hand applies gentle pressure.

I melt into the bed. It’s all perfect. All good.

Maybe Zach is right. Maybe it was about Simon being the wrong guy. Grant being wrong.

But I need to know. After tonight’s disaster, if something goes wrong again, I’ll fall apart. I need a burner boyfriend. Someone to test this out on. Someone who doesn’t make me turn into a Venus flytrap.

Like Zachery.

Obviously, I like him fine.

He’s a player. He understands transactional encounters. He does them all the time.

That’s it.

I can start again tomorrow with the proper rom-com bases.

But today, I can make sure I’m really ready by using Hollywood time.

---