Page 89 of Thick

“It is.”

“What else?”

“The yogurt parfait.”

“How many points is it?”

“One.”

“What’s in it?”

“Low-fat Greek yogurt, strawberries, and blueberries. You can crumble a Nature Valley bar on top of it for a little fiber, but it adds four points.”

“I bet this book sells well.”

“Not as well as yours. You’re still in the top ten.”

“I read it,” Andy exclaimed.

I looked at him in disbelief. “What?”

He shoveled another massive bite into his mouth without getting anything on his face, and then nodded. “Bobbi said it wasn’t erotic, so I gave it a try. I cried like a baby. It’s a very good book, Tate.”

“Thank you. It was the last book in the series, and making it an erotic novel just didn’t make sense. Not for those particular characters.”

“Well, it was a great way to end any series.”

“It was a good close to that one, that’s for sure.”

“What’s next?” he asked.

“Another biker series. They seem to be well received.”

He scraped his bowl with the edge of his spoon. “Tattoos, muscles, guns, and knives?”

“I think this one will be more about looks and brains. A bunch of guys that think before they act. A little less testosterone, and a few more brains.”

“Sounds interesting.”

“Hope everyone else thinks so. Maybe the fast pace will hook ‘em.”

He looked at Bobbi. “How long has it been available?”

“The book?”

He pushed his bowl to the side and nodded.

“A couple of hours.”

“This is so exciting,” he said. “You’re a cookbook author!”

“I wrote down some recipes, and added a few pictures. I’m far from an author.”

“Well, you’re both authors in my book.”

The MC had eighteen members, total. I was as close to those men as I’d ever been to anyone, yet I rarely felt proud of them. As strange as it seemed to admit, pride wasn’t on the list of feelings I typically felt as a result of my exposure to them.

Acceptance, trust, and admiration were common, but pride wasn’t.