Page 30 of Book Boyfriends
I shake my head. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am.”
“So are we,” Lars adds.
“You justbelievethat one of you may be meant for me?” I gesture to them.
It’s too much to process that they believe they’re here to date me. Maybe it’s the residue of the last five years, but the idea that one of these men would actually want me is more far-fetched than their origins.
“It is not belief, it is certainty,” Lord James says, his gaze locked on me. “Just as I know the sun will rise, I know that I am here because of you.”
“For you.” Lars clears his throat. “Weare here for you.”
“It doesn’t make sense to us either, Georgia, but we know it. It’s like how I just know how much salt to sprinkle in without measuring,” Owen says.
I take in their words. This whole situation is like something out of a silly rom-com, but it’s happening. It’s my reality.
Jackson crosses over and places his hands on my shoulders. “Like you said, they’re here for a reason. They’re here for you. Give it a chance.” He grins. “At least, for the next eight days.”
“Why the next eight days?”
“That way, you can make a choice before the wedding.” A wry smile bursts across his face like a sunbeam. “Although, if you took all three that would be the best fuck you to Will and Lena.”
“Who are Will and Lena?” Owen asks.
“And why do we want to give them a fuck you?” Lord James’s head tilts.
“Do I have to end someone?” Lars growls.
“Will is Georgia’s asshole ex, who’d strung her along for five years, asked her to move in, and days before she did, broke up with her via text message. Fuckhat. Turns out he’d been pining for our cousin Lena, who’d broken up with her boyfriend, so he dropped Georgia to seize his chance with her. They’re getting married in a week,” Jackson lays out the whole sordid story, minus some of the more heartbreaking bits and pieces.
Like the fact that, despite the story they spun that it didn’t start until after we broke up, they’d had several “moments” during the tenure of our relationship. Lena, who’d at least had the kindness—if you can call it that—told me in person. A month after the breakup, she sat on my sofa, tears in her eyes, and admitted everything. Their mutual attraction. How they fought it. Their loss of that fight several times in the final three years of Will and my relationship.
“So, I do have to end someone.” Lars’s features grow menacing.
“Jackson!” I narrow my eyes at my brother.
“If you’re going to date them, you’ll need to share these things with them. Relationships are about honest communication. I believe someone uses them as story arcs in her smutty books.” Jackson wags a finger.
“Our stories aren’t that…” Owen closes his mouth, no doubt thinking about the icing scene that occurred well before my wish snatched him from his story to mine.
For teleporting to the real world and learning that the woman in their vision is the author of their stories, all three appear to be handling this situation well. Though I’m known for writing steady male main characters. Lars’s quick temper aside, all three of my fictional suitors are steadfast captainsamid choppy waters. They meet every gust of wind and slap of a wave, no matter how it batters their boat around. Thank god, I don’t write explosive, morally gray mafia dons or knife-wielding stalkers.
“Gentlemen, you’re coming with me.” Jackson pushes away from the counter.
“What?” I blink.
“I’m not leaving these three men alone with you. First, your place is too small to accommodate all of you. Two, I’m sure you wouldn’t like to explain them to our older brother.”
Rem.He wouldn’t be as cool about this as Jackson. It may just fuel his desire for me to move out. Not to mention how this may stress Hope.
“Three, pretty sure Lord Tight Trousers over there plans to practice the art of not-so-subtle seduction and find his way into your bed in the middle of the night.” Jackson glares at Lord James.
“Excuse me? My trousers are the appropriate fit.” Lord James says, aghast.
“And you’re not in the right mind to deal with second-rate Mr. Darcy,” he goes on.
“You don’t see us as a threat?” Smirking, Lars points to himself and then to Owen.
