Page 17 of The Boyfriend Material Novellas

But something about Quinn—hell,everythingabout her—just does it for me.

Her humor, her honesty, her bright outlook.

And another thing about her—us—that works for me is our chemistry. We seem to have a certain connection. It’s come on quickly and taken me by surprise.

I should hit stop but instead I open up and take a dive into the ex waters. “I haven’t played a sad song since things ended with my ex either.”

She narrows her eyes and raises her fists. “Want me to go pull her hair and scratch her eyes out?”

I laugh, loving the tigress in her. “Nah, it’s all for the best. I’m happier without her. Things ended months ago. She was more interested in my wallet than me.”

Her lip curls and she issues a disgustedugh. “She’s the one missing out.”

There’s a glimmer there of something that perhaps Iwasseeking after all—the hint that this is a two-way street.

“I’ve been all about work since then too. And I’m better off without her.”

“I’m better off without him,” she seconds, a smile teasing at her lips.

We echo each other even in talking about our pasts. This feels all too right—the honesty, the openness, the admissions.

“Then there’s no need to play a sad song,” I add, “even though that’s a damn good tune.”

She leans a little closer, her shoulder brushing mine. “It is a good song. But it’s no ‘Frosty the Snowman.’” Her laugh is a little flirty, and hell, do I like that sound.

“You can’t go wrong with Frosty,” I say as she reaches for her phone and taps a few buttons, then the opening notes of the tune begin to play.

“It’s official. We’re playing only happy tunes at the party, we’re getting a Skee-Ball machine decked out in holly, and we’re having a hot chocolate bar.”

She grabs my arm, squeezing it, and all I can think isOh, this is what we’re doing? We’re already touching each other? Merry Christmas to me.

“I love literally everything about that. But we have one more place to check out.” She wags an admonishing finger at me. “Don’t think you can cut the night short.”

I gaze into her lovely green eyes, pretty sure that I’m already a goner for her. “The last thing I want to do is to call it a night before we have to.”

“Then don’t,” she whispers.

I’m hanging on to resistance by a thread, and a part of me doesn’t care why I was resisting in the first place.

We leave, and I have a feeling I do have her number now, and I want to keep it. The question is, what the hell am I going to do about that?

7

VAUGHN

What am I going to do? The immediate answer isgo.

As in, go to the third location.

We snag an Uber to take us to the Upper East Side. I open the door to the black Lexus, and as she slides in ahead of me, I’d like to say my gaze doesn’t linger on her skirt, or her legs, or her boots.

But that’d be a lie.

I can’t take my eyes off her.

I can’t stop wondering how she smells, what kind of sounds she’d make if I touched her, if her hair would be as soft in my hands as I imagine.

“One more place,” she tells me, sounding a bit wistful, as if she doesn’t want the night to end. “Maybe the third time’s a charm.”

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