The Bookworm's Guide to Dating (The Bookworm's Guide 1)

She didn’t even glance up when I came in.

“What are you doing?”

“Reading,” she replied, her eyes never leaving her phone screen.

“On your phone?”

“I don’t have a book or a Kindle here and I was bored.” She took a bite of pizza.

“You look comfortable.”

This time, she did look at me, a big grin spreading across her face. “I am. Thanks.”

“And now both my pillows are wet.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, shoot.”

“It’s fine.” I smirked. “It’s just pillows. I have more in the cupboard.”

“Oh, good.” She nestled back down and pressed the back of her head against the one I was pretty sure was mine. “Are you sure you don’t have a hairdryer here?”

I stared at her for a moment before I ran one hand through my hair, making sure to do it slowly to emphasize the shortness. “No, you’re right. It’s in the bathroom. I regularly dry it over the sink.”

“There’s no need to be snarky.”

“You’d know. You’re Queen Snarky.”

She poked her tongue out at me. “I’m trying to read, you know.”

“How can you read on your phone? Isn’t the screen too small?”

“It’s a screen. There are words. It’s not terribly hard to understand how it works, Joshua.”

“Now who’s being snarky?”

Her eyes flitted from side to side as she read. “You can’t call someone Queen Snarky and expect them not to snark.”

“You know, for someone who just had two orgasms, you should not have this much attitude.”

She tapped the side of the screen with her thumb and reached for another slice of the now-cold pizza. “Josh, I’m lying in your bed stark naked, reading, and eating pizza.”

“I had noticed.”

“Then why do you have so much attitude?”

“Touché,” I muttered, adjusting the towel at my waist. “So you wouldn’t be bothered if I get into bed and put the TV on?”

“It’s your TV,” Kinsley said absently.

“And watch sports?”

“Again, it’s your TV.”

I tilted my head to the side. “And you don’t care?”

“If you don’t stop talking to me while I’m trying to read, I’m going to shove the TV so far up your ass your sports will play directly into your brain.” She glared at me just to prove her point.

Well, I wasn’t going to argue it any further.

I shrugged and headed out of the room. I’d barely made it to the top of the stairs when I heard Kinsley call my name and I turned around with a, “Yeah?”

“Are you going to the basement?”

“I am.”

“Do you have wine?”

“I thought you didn’t want any alcohol.”

“I didn’t want any alcohol so I didn’t make a stupid decision,” she called. “But I already did that, so…”

I laughed and took to the stairs. I wasn’t going to argue with her there. We had made a stupid decision, but I’d rather it be a stupid decision than a stupid mistake.

Although the latter was still up for discussion in time.

I made my way into the basement and grabbed wine, glasses, and my pizza. I lost my towel halfway up the stairs into the hallway, meaning I was butt naked, right as car lights shone in my hallway windows.

I froze. They were right outside my house, and I knew those lights.

Shit.

It was Colton.

I darted into the kitchen, dumped the pizza, wine, and glasses, and ducked into the laundry room. I grabbed some clean boxers from the drying rack and some black sweats from the floor that I didn’t have a chance to sniff test, so it was anyone’s guess if they were clean or not.

I paused in the kitchen to shove one glass of wine in a random cabinet in case he came in here and froze.

Shit.

Colton.

My best friend was here.

And his little sister’s car was on my driveway.

And she was upstairs.

Naked.

In my bed.

We were so fucked.

And not in the way we’d been less than an hour ago.

I hoped like hell she’d heard the car pull up or seen the lights, but it wasn’t guaranteed since my bedroom overlooked my backyard, and I didn’t have time to yell up at her.

Three knocks sounded at my door followed by the ding of my bell.

God, I hated that bell.

I reached up to touch my hair. It was now dry, thank God, and I walked to the door and opened it.

Colton stared at me. “Why is my sister’s car in your driveway?”

“Hello to you, too,” I said dryly.

“Hey,” he said. “Why is Kinsley’s car in your driveway?”

“Because she’s here, obviously.” Way to go, Josh. That’s not suspicious at all.

“But why is she here? It’s like nine p.m.” He frowned.

“Because, brother dearest,” Kinsley said from somewhere behind me. “Josh owed me.”

I had absolutely no fucking idea where this was going.

“Owed you?” He peered around me at her. “Why the fuck are you wearing one of his shirts?”

“He owed me,” she repeated. “Now are you going to shut up and let me talk, or gawk at me like I’m a zoo exhibit?”