Page 37 of The Book Club Boyfriend
Take a deep breath.
I swear he does these things just to mess with me.
“What’s the deal with your current book?” he asks.
My stomach tightens. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…” He gestures vaguely. “You’ve said you’re here to work, and you’ve been holed up like a gremlin, so how’s the book coming along?”
I glare. “I’m not a gremlin.”
“You’re a little gremlin-y.”
I take a breath through my nose.Do not kill him. This is his house.
Then I exhale. “Fine. Yes. I’m here to work. And no, I haven’t written much.”
His eyes narrow slightly, like he’s actually thinking this through. “Writer’s block?”
I hesitate because it’s more than that. But that’s the easiest answer, so I nod. “Something like that.”
He hums, studying me. It’s unnerving.
Then, out of nowhere, he grins. “You know what helps with a creative block?”
I give him a flat look. “If you say ‘watching hockey,’ I’m leaving.”
He snorts. “No. Ice cream.”
I blink. “Ice cream?”
He stands, sauntering toward the kitchen like this is just a normal Tuesday.
Maybe it is.
I hesitate for half a second before following.
He pulls a pint of chocolate peanut butter swirl from the freezer and slides it across the counter.
I stare at it.
Then back at him.
I remember fighting over the last pint at the store. “My favorite.”
Hesmirks, grabbing two spoons. “Mine too. And yet, I’m sharing it. Look at me, being the bigger person.”
I roll my eyes but grab the pint, popping the lid. “Bare minimum effort, Remington.”
He chuckles, pulling himself onto the counter, feet swinging lazily. I try very hard not to look at his thighs.
We eat in silence for a few moments, the storm raging outside while everything inside feels… calm.
Which is weird.
Because Chase is the opposite of calm. He’s loud and cocky and the kind of guy who thrives on chaos.
And yet, I feel strangely at ease in his kitchen, stealing bites of his ice cream.
