Page 51 of The Book Club Boyfriend
What I didnotexpect was a packed house.
The venue isbuzzing—women of all ages chatting excitedly, clutching copies of books to their chests, sipping on themed cocktails from the cash bar.
I scan the crowd, mildly horrified.
It’s not justbig. It’shuge.
Do these peopleknowI don’t actuallylikeromance novels? That I, in fact, built my entire career writing about why women don’t need men?
And yet, they’rehere.
For this.
Forus.
God help me.
Before I can turn around and fake an emergency, a woman with sleek dark hair and a professional no-nonsense energy approaches me, clipboard in hand.
“Scarlett Calloway,” she says smoothly.“I’m Vivian Carter. Stampede PR.”
Oh.Right.
I shake her hand, trying not to let my nerves show. “Nice to meet you.”
Vivian’s gaze sweeps over me, sharp and assessing. “Glad to have you on board for this. I have to say, the online buzz has been fantastic. The whole‘enemies to lovers’angle? The fansloveit.”
I blink. “I—wait. What angle?”
Vivian just smiles. “Don’t worry, you’ll catchon. Chase is already here, by the way. I’ll take you to him.”
Chase is already here.
I swallow, ignoring the way my stomach twists.
I haven’t seen him in weeks. Sincethe fightwe had at the dog park.
I’ve spent the last week telling myself that our time together was just a blip, a brief lapse in judgment on my part. That whatever…thinghad been happening between us was just proximity, a result of being neighbors in a small town for too long.
But now, standing here, surrounded by hundreds of people waiting for us to take the stage, I know the truth.
I’mnotover it.
And the second I see him—IknowI was lying to myself.
Becausewham!
The air is sucked straight from my lungs.
Gone are the board shorts and flip-flops.
Gone is the too-casual, beach-bum Chase.
The man standing across the room is all sharp edges and tailored lines.
The charcoal-gray suit fits his frame unfairly well, emphasizing every broad, muscular inch of him. He looks even broader and taller than I remember, with his shoulders stretching against the suit jacket. His hair is freshly cut, styled just enough to be polished but still just alittlemessyin the front, like he ran his hand through it before walking in.
And the scruff?
