Chapter One
To all the people who don’t believe in global warming, suck it! That smell … it’s my skin burning. I bet it resembles a hog roast. Someone please give me a quarter turn.
Des Moines, Iowa, is not immune to summer heat, but ninety-seven degrees on the second day of June feels like Satan has come for Midwesterners first—which is surprising, since everyone knows Las Vegas should be his priority.
I blow out a long breath and blink away the sweat burning my eyes as I walk my bicycle into the entry of my lofts in East Village—a quaint neighborhood of bars, shops, and modern-industrial lofts nestled between the Capitol and downtown.
“Dear god … yes.” I stop and close my eyes, letting the cool air extinguish my skin. “Yes … yes … yes …” I moan, stretching the neck of my drenched, fitted tee to wipe my face. When I open my eyes, a new face greets me, the corner of his mouth tilted to show his muted amusement. I shoot him a tight smile. “It’s really hot outside.”
Dark wavy-haired guy with the deepest tan unlocks his bike from the rack and sets it next to him, slipping on a pair of biking gloves. “Something’s definitely hot.”
Releasing a nervous laugh, I avert my gaze and focus on lifting my bike onto the rack. The Shawn Mendes resemblance is too much to take when it’s a million degrees outside. “Well, if you don’t have to go out there, I wouldn’t. I think I just burned three layers of skin on my neck.”
“It’s okay. I like the heat.”
Another nervous laugh from me. We’re still talking about the weather, right? If he weren’t sporting tight, muscle-wrapped arms, a crooked yet winsome smile, and a steady blue-eyed gaze, my thoughts wouldn’t second guess each other.
“Anna,” my roommate Freya interrupts my blurry thoughts, “it’s your month. I’ll provide the wine of course.” She pins a flyer to the community board. The same flyer will go out in emails and text reminders, too.
New guy, who likes the heat, walks his bike over to the board. “Book club, huh?”
“Yes. Eric, you should definitely come … if you read. We’re starting a new book this month … Anna’s pick. There are twelve of us. We meet on the roof if it’s not raining … the lounge if the weather’s bad. You’d be the fourth guy.”
“Anna …” he turns toward me.
Freya flips her frizzy, humidity beaten red hair over her shoulder and digs her car keys out of her pocket. “Oh … did you just meet?”
“Sort of.” He inspects me, trapping his lower lip between his teeth.
Why? Why must he give me such a curious inspection? Sweat-crusted hair clings to my face like a hairy octopus attacked me. That odor? Yeah, that’s me.
“Oh, well, Anna this is Eric Steinmann. He moved into Trenton’s loft two days ago. You were mysteriously missing that day.” She gives me an accusatory smirk.
I spent the night and all of the following day with Carson, a local food blogger and YouTube sensation. He adopted a service dog that lost one of his legs (after saving his previous owner when someone ran a red light), and his channel blew up with followers.
Gilbert … everyone loves the three-legged yellow lab.
We’re not a thing, but we like doing things when neither one of us is in a relationship, which happens to be now.
Fun.
Easy.
Noncommittal.
“Eric, Anna Black is my roommate. She works at the bouldering gym.”
“That’s cool.” He nods once.
“Eric is opening a one-hour custom T-shirt shop next to your favorite coffee shop.”
“Cool.” I return the same sentiment.
Eric’s blinding, white-toothed grin doubles, only adding to his tall stature with the right amount of definition—sexy muscles, not the suffocating kind that makes him look like he overdosed on whey powder, raw eggs, and medium-rare steaks for breakfast.
“Yes. You’re both super cool.” Freya rolls her eyes and saunters out the door.
With a tight-lipped smile, my eyebrows slide up my forehead. “Well … I guess I’ll see you around.”
“What book?”
“Huh?” I stop my advance toward the stairs and glance over my shoulder.
“What book did you pick for book club this month?”
“The Last Person by B. Ashton.”
“Huh … never heard of it.” He narrows his eyes.
“It’s a murder mystery. Psychological thriller.”
“Cool. I’ll have to download it.”
He’s joining book club. That’s … great. I think.
I nod and make my way to my loft.
Chapter Two
Book Club Night One
* * *
“Are you nervous?” Freya asks as she opens bottles of wine that she gets for a discount because she works at a local winery. I finish setting out trays of finger foods before our book club members make their way to the sky deck.
“Nervous?” I nervously ask.
“Your book choice. If people don’t like it, you’ll feel judged. Don’t you remember when I picked that paranormal romance. I swear Ashlee and Devin still cringe when they see me.”