Page 2 of Rating the Book Boyfriend

Gemma pops her head around the doorframe and lifts a perfectly arched eyebrow. “We both know why you’re like this, Libs, and it’s okay. It’s the same reason you’re a spreadsheet whore.”

I giggle. “I thought I was the banter queen.” That’s the nickname she’d given me after reading my first book three years ago.

My friend retreats back into the bathroom. “You’re both.” I finish folding her shirt that doesn’t need to be folded before pulling my cozy ivory sweater and lounge pant outfit from the dresser drawer.

Gemma returns to the bedroom wearing a magenta satin pajama set with her initials monogrammed on the breast pocket, her hair up in an elegant bun. I shake my head.

“Why do you look like a supermodel in pj’s?”

“I like nice things,” she says, her eyes flicking to the shirt I’d folded before picking it up and tossing it unceremoniously into her laundry bag in the corner. “Now get dressed so we can eat.”

After pulling my long blonde hair up into a ponytail and donning my comfy clothes in the bathroom, I find Gemma unloading her cart and plopping the swag container and books in her spare suitcase.

“I’ll pack that properly for you tomorrow,” I say.

“I’m sure you will, doll. Let’s go.”

Ava and JoJo emerge from their room at the same time as us, and we move as a group into the living area. We’d booked a two-bedroom suite at the Colorado Springs Hotel and Convention Center for one of the biggest book signings in the romance world. We were completely exhausted.

“Chinese or pizza?” JoJo asks, sifting through the takeout menus on the dark wood desk as the rest of us sink onto the cushy furniture.

“Chinese,” we all call simultaneously.

After placing our orders on the online app, she heads to the kitchenette and returns with two bottles of white wine, a bottle of vodka, and four stemmed glasses on a tray.

“Let’s get our drink on, ladies.”

“I’ll have wine,” I announce.

“We’re all having wine… with a booster,” JoJo says, wiggling her eyebrows at me as she pours four glasses of wine and then adds a healthy shot of vodka on top.

“What the hell?” Ava asks. “Are you trying to kill us?” She twirls a lock of her reddish brown hair around one finger, her brow furrowing with concern.

“We need to relax,” JoJo replies with a casual shrug of her shoulders.

As we each lift our glasses ofboostedwine to our lips, Ava yells, “Wait! All four of us haven’t been together for six months,so we have to do toasts.” She bites her bottom lip and thinks for a second. “Here’s to love, laughter, and happily ever after.”

“Aww, that’s sweet,” Gemma says. “How about this one? Here’s to staying positive and testing negative.”

I snort out a laugh as everyone looks to me. “Here's to women and horses... and the men who ride them.”

“Amen,” JoJo crows. Her lips curve into a smirk as she lifts her glass. “I would rather be with the people in this room than with the finest people I know.”

We all roar with laughter before taking our first of many drinks. “Holy hell, that’s strong,” Ava coughs.

“But it’s not half bad,” Gemma comments, “if you like drinking fruity kerosene.”

My throat burns, but I take another sip. “This’ll definitely put hair on your chest.”

Ava pulls the top of her pink floral sleep shirt away from her body and peers down into it. “Nope, no hair yet. Better drink a little more.”

JoJo and I share an amused look. Ava is a wine connoisseur and doesn’t drink hard liquor often. She’s probably already tipsy. This is going to be fun.

“I’m so glad we all decided to stay an extra day. That will give us time to unwind after an entire day of smiling and talking,” Gemma comments, curling her legs beneath her on the cushy taupe armchair. “And since JoJo lives in Colorado, she can take us sightseeing.”

“I can show you the bars where all the hot guys hang out,” our friend offers, checking something on her phone. “Uh-oh. It looks like there’s a storm moving in Monday afternoon. You’re all flying out that morning, right?”

We all nod before Ava meets my eyes and lifts an eyebrow, a silent gesture of encouragement—and maybe a tiny prod. Takinganother fortifying gulp of my vodka wine, I blurt out, “Logan and I broke up two weeks ago.”

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