Page 29 of The Book Club Boyfriend
“Harper. What the hell is this?”
She plucks the laptop away before I can slam it shut. “It’s genius, that’s what. Your publisher loves the idea, Stampede PR loves the idea, and—”
I hold up a hand. “Pause. You’re telling me the Dallas Stampede—a hockey team—wants me, a woman who has loudly and publicly waged war onromance, to co-host their romance book club?”
Harper beams. “Yep.”
Kill me. Just kill me now.
I rub my temples. “For the love of everything holy, why?”
She sighs dramatically. “Because, babe, people eat this stuff up. You and Chase? You’re like the human embodiment of enemies to lovers. Your entire brand is ‘I don’t believe in love,’ and his brand is literally ‘I will flirt with anything that moves.’”
I shake my head, unable to process this level of insanity. Especially before coffee. “This is the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”
Harper ignores me. “You’re trending. People are arguing about whether you’re a romance-hating cynic or just haven’t met the right guy yet.” She wiggles her eyebrows. “And then there’s Chase.”
I tighten my grip on my coffee mug. “What about him?”
She shrugs, way too casual. “Oh, nothing. Just that he’s about to take over as the new face of the book club, and the internet is already shipping you two into oblivion.”
I choke. “WHAT?”
Harper grins. “Hashtag #QuinnWilder walked. #ScottieRemington is about to run.”
“No.” I point an accusing finger at her. “No. Absolutely not.”
“Too late,” she sings. “The deal’s done. It’s allhappening.”
I slam my coffee down. “And what if I refuse?”
Harper lifts a brow. “Then your publisher will ‘strongly suggest’ you reconsider your stance on publicity efforts.”
I stare at her, speechless.
She grins. “You’re in, babe.”
I want to scream.
Instead, I close my eyes, inhale deeply, and mentally start drafting my resignation letter from life.
Chapter Ten
That’s a Terrible Idea, When Do We Start?
Chase
I wake up to the sound of a dog snoring directly in my face.
Rip, sprawled across my bed like he owns the place, exhales a long, dramatic sigh, his nose pressed against my shoulder.
I grunt, pushing him away, and scrub a hand over my face. Sunlight filters through the blinds, too bright and too early. I could use another hour of sleep, but the universe has other plans because my phone starts buzzing on my nightstand.
I groan, blindly reaching for it. Drew.
Nope. Not dealing with that yet.
I silence the call and roll onto my back, exhaling slowly as last night flashes through my mind.The bonfire. The drinks. The way Scarlett sat across from me, firelight dancing in her eyes, her lips curving around a smirk that had my stomach doing some real inconvenient shit.
