Page 35 of The Book Club Boyfriend
I reach the door and hesitate for half a second before knocking.
It swings open almost immediately.
Chase is standing there in sweatpants and a plain T-shirt, looking casual and slightly rumpled. His hair is all messy and tousled, and he looks unfairly good for someone who was probably lounging around doing nothing.
One dark brow lifts. “Lemme guess—you finally missed me too much?”
I cross my arms. “My power’s out.”
His lips twitch like he’s holding back a smile. “And?”
“And do you have a spare room or not?”
He leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his broad chest. Smugness practically radiates off of him. He’sthinking… like I asked him to solve a difficult math equation.What the actual.
“Depends. You planning to kill me in my sleep?”
I scowl. “No promises.”
He smirks, takes way too long to answer, then finally steps aside. “Come on in. Try not to setanything on fire.”
I step past him, muttering, “Like I said, no promises.”
The second I step inside, the warmth hits me—a sharp contrast to the cold rain still dripping down my arms. Chase shuts the door behind me, locking out the wind.
I take a deep breath. Wow, it smells good in here. Like fresh laundry and some faint woodsy cologne.
Not that I should care.
Not that Idocare.
Chase eyes me, his lips twitching like he’s barely restraining himself. “So, you just stood in the rain for fun or…?”
I glare. “It’s called getting from Point A to Point B, Remington.”
He drags his gaze over me, his expression unreadable. “Well, Point B is making a mess of my floor.”
I follow his glance and scowl. Damn it. My T-shirt is soaked through, dripping small puddles onto the hardwood. My shorts are damp, and my sneakers squish slightly when I shift my weight.
He sighs and shakes his head. “Hold on.”
He disappears down the hallway and returns a few moments later, tossing me a towel and—of all things—a hoodie.
I catch both instinctively, frowning at the fabricin my hands. It’s soft and well-worn, a dark navy with the Stampede logo on the chest.
I lift a brow. “You’re really gonna make me wear your team merch?”
Chase smirks, way too pleased with himself. “Think of it as an initiation.”
A reminder that I’ll be working with him on the team’s book club.Gag.
I roll my eyes but take the towel and start drying off anyway.
Rip watches us from his spot near the couch.
“Guest room’s down the hall if you wanna change.”
I debate refusing—on principle—but my soaked clothes are glued to my skin, and I’m not about to sit around in damp discomfort out of sheer spite.
