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But first, book club.
I’ve been anxiously waiting for this night since I found out about it. I’m more than ready to make new friends and talk about my favorite topic—romance books.
I really hope Holly remembers me, and better yet, allows me to pick her brain for literally everything. I’m finishing up my first draft and I know it needs editing, but I’m not sure what that means or how to do it. And then there’s the whole publishing thing.
It’s daunting.
I clutchTempt, this month’s choice to my chest, and walk into the store, the bells chiming with my arrival. As soon as the door shuts behind me, I breathe in the lavender and coffee air, and can already feel the nervous energy leaving my body.
“You made it,” Holly squeals, running out from behind a row of books and pulling me in for a hug. “I’m so excited. Delilah didn’t think you’d come back.”
Holly is in another retro dress, this one turquoise, with her hair down in loose waves.
“That’s because you talk too much,” teases a woman with mousy brown hair and wire rimmed glasses that’s trailing behind Holly. She steps closer and extends her hand. “I’m sure you guessed, but I’m Delilah.”
“Avery.” I give her hand a quick shake while she assesses me.
“Don’t I know you from somewhere?” She lets go of my hand and taps an index finger against the side of her face.
“Probably not. Unless you count the last time I was here.” I can feel my cheeks heating under her scrutiny, and fuck, I don’t mind if she connects the dots and figures out who my brothers are and who I’m dating, but I don’t want them to treat me any differently because of it. This is my place, my sanctuary, I can feel it, and I don’t want my connections to the Devils to taint it.
“She’s not published yet.” Holly loops her arm in mine and leads us toward the stairs.
“That’s not it,” Delilah says, falling into step beside me. We make it about halfway up the stairs before she blurts out. “You’re dating a hockey player. That’s it. I saw your pictures when I was scrolling the ‘gram.”
Well, hell. This is where they ask for tickets or autographs.
Holly’s eyebrows are practically in her hairline as she brings us to a stop and turns to face me. “So you do have a thing for hockey players.”
“Oh, I’d say. Check him out. He’s a hottie.” Delilah has our picture on her phone in seconds and passes it to Holly. “No offense,” she adds in a quieter tone.
“None taken,” I smile, catching a glimpse of the picture she’s brought up. It was one that we’d taken from my apartment after our first and only fake date got rained out. He’s looking at me like… well, like I’m pretty damn special. “He is pretty hot.”
Holly fans herself and hands Delilah her phone. “I have one question.”
“Okay?”
“The stamina? Is it next level?”
Her question totally catches me off guard, and the way she’s waggling her eyebrows has me doubled over with laughter. Maybe that’s the difference with your average Jane and a romance author. One wants hockey tickets and autographed posters, and the other wants to know about sexual prowess.
It’s pretty refreshing.
Plus, with Lucy and Elle, there are only so many details I like to disclose. They’re family, and family doesn’t need to know about your boyfriend’s magic dick.
“His is pretty incredible. I didn’t know things could be like that.” We all let out a collective sigh. “But you must know, not all hockey players are created equal.”
“That seems like a waste,” Delilah mutters.
Holly smacks my arm but seems to realize she hit a stranger, so she casually rubs the spot she slapped and gives me a sheepish smile. “There has been more than one? I feel like I don’t know you at all. I mean, I don’t, but still.”
“I’ll make you a deal. I’ll tell you a little about me after book club, and you tell me all I need to know about self-publishing.”
“I was going to do that anyway, but yes. We have a deal.”
“Are you guys big fans?” I glance between the two girls as we start back up the stairs.
Delilah scoffs. “God, no. I just like to look at their butts.”
