Page 5 of The Book Club Boyfriend
He smirks. “You sure? Because it would do wonders for your dating life.”
I scoff. “My dating life is fine.”
He levels me with a look. “Dude, your dating life is arotating door.”
I glare. “It’s theoff-season. I should be able to havesomefun without it being a scandal.”
Bennett sighs. “Look, I’m just saying—you’re a great player. But the team wants more than that from you now. You’ve been around a couple of years. They want a guy who can lead, who can represent the franchise.” He lifts a brow. “You really gonna blow your shot at captaincy because you can’t stop beingyoufor five minutes?”
I open my mouth, then shut it.
Damn it.
I hate when he makessense.
I rub the back of my neck, annoyed. “I just need to get out of Dallas for a bit. Clear my head. Figure out what’s next.”
Bennett leans back, intrigued. “Where you headed?”
“Michigan.” I exhale, already picturing it. “Grew up outside of Grand Rapids, spent summers on the lake. I rented a place there for a month. Should be quiet, no distractions. Just me and Rip.”
“No distractions,” Bennett echoes, smirking. “You? Alone? With nothing to do butthink?”
I scowl. “Icanbe alone.”
He chuckles. “Sure. Just make sure you don’t go full existential crisis up there. I don’t want to get a call saying you’ve abandoned hockey and opened a bait shop or something.”
I roll my eyes. “I’ll be fine.”
Bennett hums. “Youcouldmake it more interesting. Join the book club, woo some hockey moms, do alittleself-reinvention.”
I deadpan. “Hard pass.”
He just smirks. “Fine. But when you come back in a monthstilltrying to prove you’re not a reckless, commitment-phobic wildcard, don’t say I didn’t try to help.”
I grunt and work on finishing my beer.
Michigan will be good for me.
No distractions. No PR nightmares. No bull.
Just me, the lake, and a much-needed break.
What could possibly go wrong?
Chapter Three
Unwelcome Suprises
Scarlett
The moment I step into the grocery store, I take a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of fresh produce, stale air conditioning, and a bakery section aggressively pushing day-old muffins. It’s comforting, in a strange way. I’ve barely been here a day, but this already feels better. The lake breeze, the quiet, the absolutelackof people needing anything from me.
Glorious.
This summer is going to be exactly what I need. Just me, my laptop, a scenic view, and a desperate attempt to salvage my career before my editor sends a hitman to my house.
I grab a shopping cart and mentally run through my shopping list: coffee, fruit, snacks, and enough wine to drown my writer’s block. Easy meals,because cooking is not my spiritual gift.
