Page 16 of The Book Club Boyfriend
His smirk deepens. “Maybe I’m just looking for somethingempowering.You know, about how women don’t need men.”
My jaw locks. “You’re such a pain in the—”
“Right this way!” the clerk chirps, oblivious to the tension.
I sigh. This isnothow I imagined my peaceful afternoon going.
A bookstore is supposed to bemyterritory,myhappy place. He just managed to ruin that in about four seconds.
And yet, somehow, I find myself following Chase straight into the depths of my own personal hell.
Chapter Six
New Territory
Chase
Scarlett follows the bookstore clerk reluctantly, and I trail behind, enjoying the show. She’s clearly on edge, trying so hard not to let me get under her skin. It’s adorable, really.
“Here we are,” the clerk chirps, gesturing toward a shelf with a flourish. It’s labeled Non-Fiction, filled with heavy, serious-looking titles—dark covers and blocky lettering. Supposedly, this is where her books live. It’s not surprising that she writes such serious material; her personality isn’t exactly warm and fuzzy.
The clerk searches, running a finger along the spines. “Huh.”
Scarlett’s eyes scan the display, her brows furrowing.
“Huh?” I echo, rocking back on my heels.
She frowns, shifting her stance and scanning higher, then lower. I fight the urge to smirk.
“Everything okay?” I ask, feigning innocence.
Scarlett shoots me a look that says she’d rather eat glass than admit whatever’s bothering her, but the tension rolling off her gives her away.
The clerk finally locates the book in question. “Oh, here it is!” she says brightly, crouching down and pulling it from the very bottom shelf, where it was buried between two thicker volumes.
I glance between Scarlett and the sad, dust-covered book. I don’t have to say a damn thing; her expression is already murderous.
She crosses her arms. “Wow. What a place of honor.”
I bite my lip to keep from laughing. “Tough break, Calloway.”
She ignores me, taking the book from the clerk and flipping through it, muttering under her breath aboutalgorithm biases and mainstream book club pandering.
I lean casually against a nearby shelf, giving her a once-over.
I wasn’t wrong before—she is hot. I mean, she’s been hot since the second I laid eyes on her. But today? With her sun-kissed skin and hair that looks like she just rolled out of bed in the best way possible? It’s unfair, really. Cut-off jean shorts, tan sandals, and a white cotton sweater. She looks likeshe belongs in Nantucket.
“You look like you got some sun, Calloway,” I remark casually.
She eyes me warily. “Yeah? And what does that mean, exactly?”
I tilt my head, studying her. “Just that the lake’s treating you well. A little sun-kissed glow. Healthy. Radiant.”
She rolls her eyes. “Flattery won’t work on me, Remington.”
I grin, slow and lazy. “Using my last name…which I never gave you. Someone looked me
up.” She turns six shades of red.Interesting.
