Page 1 of Rating the Book Boyfriend

Prologue - Libby

“This bra has got to go,” Ava proclaims before the door to the hotel suite we’re sharing has even shut behind us.

She does that magical bra-removal trick, pulling it through the sleeves of her emerald-green sweater and flinging it across the room.

“Ow!” JoJo yells, yanking the lacy black garment from her head where it landed. “I think you gave me a concussion with your boulder holder, woman.”

“Sorry,” she shoots back, shimmying her boobs. “The old bacon hangers need room to breathe.”

I choke on my own saliva, and Gemma smacks me on the back. “Jesus, Ava. You’re a romance author, and the best description you can come up with for your breasts isbacon hangers?”

She giggles, her sapphire-blue eyes sparkling. “My grandma used to say that, and I always thought it was hilarious.”

Gemma tucks a lock of her dark-brown hair behind her ear and begins tapping in her notes app, something she does abouta hundred times a day. “I like it. You care if I use that in my next book? I have a character that loves to say outlandish shit.”

“Be my guest,” Ava tells her, grabbing the handle of her cart. “Let’s put our stuff in our rooms and then order something to eat.”

“Yessss,” I agree, practically feral for some food at this point in the evening. “I didn’t think there was any way someone could screw up a turkey sandwich, but that hockey puck they served for lunch proved me wrong.”

“And all for the low, low price of forty-nine dollars!” JoJo replies with her trademark sarcasm.

“Other than the food, this was the best book signing event I’ve been to,” Gemma says.

“Yeah,” I say quietly as we head to the bedroom of our suite with our carts in tow.

“What’s wrong?” she demands as soon as we’re inside.

“Nothing.”

“Liar.” Her pale green eyes narrow. “How many books did you sell?”

“Forty-nine,” I sigh.

“Ah. One short of your goal.”

She knows me so well. I’m very target-oriented, and when I don’t reach my goals, I get disappointed in myself.

“It’s fine. It was only one book. I probably expected too much of myself.”

Gemma marches over to my portable cart and rummages through the books I have left. “This one,” she announces, holding up my latest release,Rolling the Dice.

“Gem, you really don’t?—”

“Psssh. Stop talking. I buy every one of your paperbacks, just like you buy mine. Now sign it.”

“Bossy ass,” I say with all the affection in the world for my best friend, taking the purple Sharpie from her hand and signingLibby Coxon the title page. I notice Gemma stuff a twenty into my money pouch on top of the contents of my cart.

I hand the spicy romance novel over, and her beautiful face creases into a smile as she stares at the words. “Ahh, the fabulous Libby Cocks.”

My eyes roll to the top of my head. “Don’t think I don’t hear you pronouncing thecks,you perv. It’s Cox with anx.”

“You’ll always be Libby Cocks to me,” she informs me as she places the book neatly in her suitcase.

“Well, since cocks are your favorite thing, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” she agrees, stripping off her raspberry off-the-shoulder top and tossing it haphazardly onto the bed on her way to the bathroom. I immediately grab it and begin folding it precisely as she calls, “And stop folding my shit. It’s going in the laundry bag anyway.”

“Sorry,” I call back, “I don’t know why I’m like this.”

---