Page 5 of Hot Girls Read Book Club

Glancing out the window, I watch dark clouds swirl across the late-summer sky, rain threatening to crash over our tiny town at any minute. I hope the weather doesn’t keep people away.

I keep myself busy, fussing over setting the room up again, just in case there’s a bigger turnout this time. These things sometimes take a couple of weeks to really catch fire. I’m not going to count anything out yet.

Last meeting, I only brought chocolate chip cookies, but this time, I sprung for a variety: chocolate chip, oatmeal raisin, and some kind of shortbread I’d spent an embarrassing amount of time debating in the bakery aisle. I rearrange them on the plate, placing the pile in the center of the table, then shifting it closer to the spot Jax sat last week.

My eyes narrow, and I move it back to the middle.

Then a little closer to Jax’s chair again.

Oh, this is so stupid.

I huff to myself, reaching up to remove the claw clip keeping my hair in place at the back of my head. I check my reflection in the glass of the window, running my fingers through my long, dark waves, shaking them free.

The sound of heavy boots trudging across the library’s industrial carpet has my lips tipping up, and seconds later, I see Jax’s reflection in the window as he fills the doorway.

Same coveralls as last time, except the top half hangs loose around his waist, leaving nothing but a fitted white t-shirt stretched across his chest and shoulders. But what catches my eye is the book I selected and the notebook I gave him last meeting tucked under one of his arms, pressed between the pristine white fabric of his shirt and the tattooed skin of his left bicep.

“You came back.”

Relief floods my system, and I turn to smile at him.

His gaze flicks to the book tucked beneath his arm.

“Had to finish what I started.”

We take our seats, the same ones we sat in last time. It’s exactly seven o’clock, and we decide to give it another five minutes to see if anyone else is going to trickle in. Every sound in the hallway has me watching the doorway.

Jax sits quietly, settling into his space. He sets the book down gently on the table, then flips open the little notebook. I can’t help but notice the messy, handwritten notes covering the entire first page. I can tell some were written in a hurry, crossing the lines and into the margins. Others, carefully printed and underlined for emphasis.

Who is this guy?

No one else shows up, and surprisingly, I’m not even disappointed as I turn my focus back to the man in front of me. Biting my lip, I watch him shove an entire oatmeal raisin cookie into his mouth.

His jaw works as he chews methodically, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows, and I’m transfixed by the motion. I let my eyes graze over him before forcing them back to my hands.

I clear my throat.

“Lily… I have to be straight with you,” Jax finally says.

He looks uncomfortable, like he’d rather be anywhere but here. It’s in the subtle shift of his shoulders. The way he clasps his hands on the table in front of him.

“I lied.”

I blink. “About what?”

“At the first meeting.”

My stomach drops, thinking back to our conversation, rifling through the entire discussion looking for something that would be worth lying about.

“I didn’t read the book.”

“Jax!” I gasp. “You WHAT?”

His shoulders round as he sinks into his chair, a crooked smile tugging at his mouth. It’s unfair how a six-foot-something mechanic can appear so boyishly guilty.

A man his size shouldn’t be capable of looking sheepish, yet somehow he manages it.

“Then what were we discussing for a full hour?”