Page 116 of Battle of the Bookstores

“Do you like it?” I feel like I’m not contributing much, but it’s difficult to participate when I’m melting into the bed.

“I like everything about this. Fantasy girl, remember?”

He closes his eyes and rolls into me again. Over and over, slow and steady—until it’s not. He quickens his pace, pressing his forehead against mine. Every muscle in his body is tense and taut. I run my fingernails down his back and bite his shoulder and kiss his neck until finally his rhythm falters and he tenses and shudders, holding on as long as he can to this moment before collapsing on me.

“Oof,” I say.

He springs up, rolling off me. “I’m sorry, did I—”

I tug him back over me. “Crush me, please.”

Shaking his head, he pulls me on top of him and I sprawl out, my cheek on his chest, listening to his heart rate slowly coming down. Every speck of tension in my body dissolves until I’m rag-doll limp and drifting toward sleep.

“Stay with me tonight?” he asks.

My eyes pop open. The thought of leaving hadn’t even occurred to me. “I might as well. Don’t want anyone to swoop in and take my place at breakfast with you tomorrow. By the way—where the hell did that lipstick on your cheek come from?”

I sound like a jealous harpy, but Ryan chuckles and wraps his arms around me. It’s like being in a straitjacket; I love it.

“All I was thinking about all day was you,” he says, kissing my forehead. “And now I’m thinking you must be hungry. I didn’t feed you dinner.”

There’s no way I’m leaving this bed. “We could get room service?”

“Sure. And then should we…talk?”

I know we need to talk—about everything that’s happened and what it means for our partnership at the bookstore and our future together—but there’s something else on my mind. Only problem is, it’s up in my room.

“Don’t take this the wrong say,” I say, “but I, uh, got an ARC from one of my favorite authors today—”

“Same!” He shifts so we’re facing each other. “It’s for the next book in this series I’m obsessed with—”

“And I keep thinking about it—”

“I read the first chapter over lunch—”

We’re talking over each other, and we both stop. Then we burst out laughing.

“You won’t be mad if we read tonight for a while?” I ask.

“Mad?” He laughs again. “I cannot think of anything better than hanging out in bed with you and reading.”

So that’s what we do. Ryan puts in a room service order. He cleans up and gets dressed, then takes my key card andgoes to my room to fetch my roller bag and tote full of books from the convention. After we eat, he strips down to his boxers and I put on my pajamas, and we prop ourselves up in bed and open our books. He pulls my legs over his lap and lazily strokes them with one hand, pausing only when he needs to turn the page.

And as we lose ourselves in our stories, I find myself hoping, for the first time in my life, for a happy ending.

28

Ryan

Holding Josie Klein’shand is my new favorite thing to do. And kissing her. Being on top of her, beneath her, inside her, hearing the sharp little noises she makes when she’s about to come. Lying in bed afterward, talking or reading or talking about reading. Everything with Josie is my favorite. She’s my favorite.

I spent so much time worrying she’d be furious and never want to see me, Ryan, or talk to me, RJ, again, that I didn’t think about how good it could be. How good we could be.

Based on this last week, we could be great.

Saturday: I woke to the sound of Josie’s sleepy sigh. Pure bliss. Then I got to live out my fantasy of leisurely morning sex, which was even better than I imagined, followed by room service, which was not as good as I expected. Turns out avocado toast really is just avocado and toast.

Later, we went around the conference together, meeting reps at new-to-us imprints and talking up our vision for the new store. Every few minutes, I’d look over at Josie, and she’d blush, which would make me grin. By the time the conferenceended, we were both ready to run back to our room and spend more time together (naked).

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