Page 6 of Hot Girls Read Book Club

I sit back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest.

He shrugs again. “You did most of the discussing.”

A laugh bubbles out of me. With eyes wide, I slap a hand over my mouth to stifle the sound. He isn’t wrong; I did do most of the talking last time.

Jax sits up straighter, a small smile playing on his lips. His expression softens the lines of his face, smoothing out his brow, though his eyes crinkle at the corners.

“Wait,” I say, narrowing my eyes his way. “You sat there for an hour while I spoiled the entire book for you?”

“Yep.”

I half-laugh, half-scoff at his answer. It’s so simple.

“Why on Earth didn’t you tell me?”

Jax takes his time answering, his eyes bouncing from my eyes to my lips, down to his folded hands, and then back to my face.

“You seemed excited. And you were talking real fast.”

Again, he says it so simply that I don’t know how to process his words or the meaning lingering beneath them. Why the hell did he come to the first meeting of book club if he didn’t even read the—

“Oh, my God! Jax! You didn’t mean to come to this meeting, did you? Oh God, I’m so embarrassed!” I drop my head into my hands, hiding my face because—of course—this grown-ass mechanic, still donning his work uniform, didn’t mean to join the Hot Girls Read Book Club.

“Don’t do that,” he says, reaching across the table and wrapping his large hands around my wrists, pulling my hands away from my face. “No, I didn’t intend on coming to book club. I don’t even know who Ali Briarwood is. But that’s okay.”

“Hazelwood.”

“Huh?”

“Ali Hazelwood. Her name is Ali Hazelwood.”

His mouth pulls to the side.

“Right. Hazelwood.”

I chew my lip, loving the way he immediately corrected himself instead of copping an attitude that I pointed out his mistake. John would have—you know what, screw John. He doesn’t get to ruin this for me.

“So what did you think this time?”

“Of the book?”

I huff out another laugh, tossing my head back.

“Yes, Jax! The book. By the looks of it,” I say, gesturing to his open notebook. “You obviously came prepared. Since I did all the talking last time, you should start.”

He leans back in his chair, picking up the notebook, but he doesn’t need to look down at it before he speaks.

“I spent half of it convinced the TA was gonna knock the professor out.”

I choke on my coffee. “That’s not how why-choose works.”

“Why-what? No, that doesn’t matter. Professor Adams was a cocky prick and didn’t deserve the time Amanda gave him.”

I fold my lips in, but incline my head to urge him on.

“Matteo was good to Amanda. He did everything he could for her. He showed up early and stayed late. Bent over backwards to give her everything she ever wanted. And she shit on him, always going back to Professor Adams.” He sneers at the name. “Matteo also deserved better.”

He says the last part a little quieter, though his chest rises and falls harder than it was before, and I wonder if we’re still talking about the book because this reaction is visceral. Raw in a way that has my chest tightening.