Page 169 of The Hopelessly Bromantic Duet

Huh. “Was I adamant?”

“You were, TJ,” he says, firm and clear. “Like you didn’t want me at your place.”

Ah, I get his tone now. He doesn’t want to leave things unsaid.

That’s good, objectively.

But it’s hard in reality.

Since that means I have to figure out why the hell I was dead set on coming here. At the time, I gave a gut response since my gut said I wasn’t ready to bring him to my apartment. Why the hell don’t I want him there? Fine, Idolike being at his place. His home makes me feel good. Maybe even safe.

And there it is. Idon’tfeel as safe with him in my home. Now I need to dissect why.

Ugh.

This emotional shit is hard. “Gimme two minutes,” I say.

He snort-laughs. “You don’t know the answer?”

“This may shock you, but sometimes I have to think before I speak.”

Jude rolls his eyes. “Some things never change.”

As I get out of the shower, I search for the reason. I don’t stop hunting for my motivation as I return to his room, find my black boxer briefs, and tug them on.

He grabs a pair of purple ones with dragons on the waistband. Rafe Rodmans. “Hot,” I say, then I gesture to the doorway. “I’m going to grab some water.”

In the kitchen, he hands me a glass. I down some water from the tap, and I swear I can hear a clock ticking in my head.

I better find the answer soon. Something other thanI’m not ready to invite you into my home.

I scan his place as if I can find the answer in his couch, his window, his kitchen.

His makeshift bookshelf.

That’s it.Books.

As I set down the glass on the counter, I walk quietly into the adjoining living room then run a finger along the spines, stopping atNew York Hidden Gems.

Jude sits on the couch, waiting patiently. That’s new too—Jude being patient.

It’s a step toward me—time to take one more toward him. I turn around, meet his gaze head-on. “There’s a lot of me at my place. My books. My computer. Notebooks with ideas,” I say.

He nods a few times like he’s taking it in. “Are you afraid I’d read them?”

The wordagainis unsaid, but it hangs between us at the end of his question. But tonight, I don’t want to hash out what went wrong in Los Angeles, from the way I bungled telling him about my deal to the hurtful accusations he lobbed at me.

Or how I walked away, retaliating over and over by not giving him a chance to say he was sorry.

Tonight, I want to get into bed and curl up with him. Just feel him close to me as we sleep.

But I owe him answers. Pretty sure I also owe it to myself to face my own issues. “No. But my books came between us last time. There’s a ton of copies ofTop-Notch Boyfriendon my shelves. My publisher in each country sends them to me, so I have a lot. I guess I didn’t want us to be surrounded by that. Not tonight. Not when I had a feeling...”

His lips twitch. “You had a feeling you’d seduce me?”

Flopping down next to him, I park a hand on his knee. “Dude, when will you ever get it straight? You’re always seducing me.Always.”

“Good. It happens to be my favorite hobby.” Then he sinks deeper into the couch and hums pensively. “I don’t want your books to come between us,” he says, his brow creased. “And I don’t entirely know what that means. But I think it would be good if... they don’t come between us.”

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