Page 100 of The Book Club Boyfriend
And for the first time in a long time, my house doesn’t feel like just a place I sleep.
It feels like something more.
It feels like her.
I don’t know how long I’ve been staring at her. Probably too long. Definitely too long.
Her lips are parted, her cheeks a little flushed. There’s something soft in her eyes now—unguarded.
I shift slightly, resting my arm on the back of the couch behind her.
“You tired?” I ask.
She shakes her head, her voice barely above a whisper. “Not yet.”
I nod slowly. “Cool.”
Because I am smooth. And articulate. And absolutely not spiraling internally over whether this is a moment or not.
Scarlett turns to me, curling her legs a little closer to her body, one hand brushing back a loose strand of hair. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
I blink. “Like what?”
“Like I’m going to disappear.”
I don’t answer. I can’t. Because that’s exactly what it feels like. Like if I don’t hold on tight enough, she’ll vanish.
She swallows. “Say something.”
So I do.
“You drive me insane,” I murmur. “And I can’t stop wanting you, even when I know I might end up hurt.”
Her breath catches.
I lean in—slowly, giving her time to pull away if she wants. But she doesn’t. Her eyes flicker to my mouth, then back to my eyes.
She whispers, “You’re not supposed to make me feel like this.”
My voice is low. “Like what?”
“Like maybe I’ve been wrong about everything.”
That’s all the permission I need.
I close the space between us, pressing my lips to hers—slow, tentative, like I’m afraid to want it too much.
But then she kisses me back.
And it’s not slow anymore.
It’s soft, then demanding. Her fingers curl in my shirt, and my hand slides up to cradle her jaw, angling her closer like I need her in every way a person can need someone.
The blanket slips to the floor. Rip snorts in protest and jumps down, giving us a wide berth as Scarlett shifts to straddle my lap, her hands threading through my hair.
She tastes like cinnamon and sugar and something I’ve been craving for a very long time.
She kisses like she argues—fierce, unwavering, and with absolute certainty she’s going to win.
