Page 19 of Rating the Book Boyfriend

Riggs shakes his head in disgust. “Then he should have taken the couch.”

Patting his arm, I say, “That’s one of many reasons he’s a complete prick.”

We work together to get the couch into the back of the truck, and I almost trip over my own feet several times because I can’t stop ogling his bulging muscles. Then we begin loading the stuff I stored in the garage. After placing a heavy box of books in his backseat, Riggs lifts his shirt to swipe the perspiration beading on his forehead, anddear god in heaven!

I’m blessed with a full view of his torso, those tight, cut abs taking center stage. He has the perfect amount of dark hair, which tapers between his V lines and directly into the waistband of his shorts.

“Jesus, Riggs. Were you born or manufactured?” I ask, losing all filters at the sight of the most perfect male specimen I’d ever seen in person.

He chuckles and pats his flat stomach. “I try to keep in shape. No one wants a pot belly on their book covers.”

Movement catches my eye and pulls my pervy gaze from Riggs’s body.

Oh for Pete’s sake…

Logan’s white Prius pulls up at the curb, and my idiot ex steps out, his eyes darting from Riggs to his big, red Chevy truck in the driveway.

“What the hell is Logan doing here?” I mutter.

“Your ex?” Riggs asks in a low voice, and I nod.

“Hey, Libby. Who’s your friend?” Logan asks, strolling toward us with faux casualness.Why is he here? He never comes home for lunch.

As I open my mouth to speak, Riggs steps forward, extending a large hand. “Hi, I’m Cobra.”

Wait. What?

Logan’s forehead looks like fault lines are forming on his skin. “C-cobra?”

Riggs puts on a winning smile. “Yeah, Cobra McSnugglebuns.”

I have to slap my hand over my mouth and turn away to keep from laughing out loud.

Oh, but he’s not done. “Libby and I met at a club where I dance. We had a drink afterward, and she mentioned she was moving and didn’t have a man in her life who’s strong enough to move furniture, so I naturally volunteered.” He shoots me an affectionate smile that makes my vagina almost choke on thin air.

Seriously, how is he this hotandfunny?

And taken,my mind reminds me.

“Cobra?” Logan repeats stupidly.

“Well, that’s my stage name. The manager of the club gave me the name after my audition.” Then he winks, and it takes thestrength of a thousand men to keep me from doubling over with laughter.

After blowing out a stream of air through pursed lips, I manage to get hold of myself and ask, “Did you forget something, Logan?”

He finally seems to remember I’m there and turns his attention on me. “Yeah. No. I just, uh…”

“Did you come to help?” Riggs asks, and Logan shakes his head.

“No, I gotta get back to work. Libby, I just wanted to tell you that you can leave the key in the mailbox,” he says quickly before casting one more glance at Cobra McSnugglebuns and returning to his car.

I slowly turn my head and lift my eyebrows at the grinning man beside me. “You seem quite pleased with yourself, Mr. McSnugglebuns.”

“Most fun I’ve had in a while,” he says, “and we’re friends, Libby. You can call me Mr. Cobra.”

I follow Riggs in my Kia, and we make the drive to Port Saint Joe in a little over an hour.

“This is cute,” he says, after we carry my couch into the cozy living room and set it down.

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