The Bookworm's Guide to Flirting (The Bookworm's Guide 3)
Page 3
Not that I’d ever read either.
I didn’t have the patience for that. Or all the characters.
I had watched Game of Thrones on TV, though. But that was mostly for Jon Snow’s ass…
“I didn’t call you specifically,” I argued, picking my book up again. “I asked if you knew anyone who could help me.”
“You called me hoping I could help you.”
“Well, I wasn’t going to call Holley, was I? And I knew you wouldn’t tell her I’d dropped one box and torn a book.”
Dylan drained his cup. “The absolute horror of tearing a book.”
“Have you ever been around Holley and a torn book? I had to switch that out for my copy. It’s a good thing I don’t read about unicorns and shit or I’d be really pissed at myself.”
“Unicorns and shit.” He chuckled, getting up. “You’ve really never read her books, have you?”
I held up my book—the cover screamed sexy romance with a couple in a compromising position. “Do I look like I read epic fantasy?”
“Her books are amazing,” he continued, washing his cup out in the sink. “It’s no wonder they’re being compared with Game of Thrones. They’re almost as good.”
I paused. “You read her books?”
“Do you pay any attention to me at all?” He put his mug on the draining rack and turned to look at me. “Four months. I’ve lived here for four months and it’s like you don’t know me at all.”
“There’s a reason for that.” I sniffed and opened my book. “I don’t like other people.”
“You let me live with you.”
“I thought you said no. Your accent is stupid and hard to understand.” I sniffed again and looked at the page without reading anything.
“What’s that smell?”
“Huh?” I jerked my head up. “I don’t smell anything.”
“Of course you don’t, darlin’.” He walked over with a grin. “You can’t smell your own bullshit.”
“Oh, you can fuck off.” I grabbed a throw pillow and threw it at him. I was using my left hand so my aim left a lot to be desired, and Dylan caught it easily.
He tutted, tossing it back onto the sofa. “At least try to hit me.”
I showed him my middle finger and mouthed, “Fuck. Off.”
Laughing, he did as I’d asked, but not before he stopped and grabbed the last banana from the fruit bowl.
Jerk.
He knew they were my favorite.
***
“I need a new roommate,” I announced, shoving the door to the store closed behind me.
Kinsley blinked at me from behind the register. “Is Dylan moving?”
“No, I just need a new one.” I pulled off my hat and tossed it on the table where I perched as I undid my coat. “I can’t take anymore of that accent and those stupid freakin’ gray sweatpants that are basically lingerie, thank you very much.”
“You also needed a new roommate last week,” Holley said, hauling a box onto the table next to me. “And the week before, and last month, and I think at Christmas.”
“And? What’s your point?”
“You still don’t have one.”
I sniffed. “Fine, then I need a boyfriend.”
“No.” Kinsley shook her head. “You need a fuck buddy, not a boyfriend. You can’t handle the neediness of a boyfriend.”
“That’s true.” Holley pointed at her and nodded. “I’m actually wondering how Sebastian coped without me in his life. Needs milk? I buy it. Loses his charge cable? I find it.”
“Same with Josh! Needs clean pants? You know they’re in my laundry. Moldy bread? I replace that, too.”
I blinked at them. “Boohoo, your lives must be so hard with sex on tap.”
Holley didn’t bat an eyelid. “It’s the worst.”
I rolled my eyes. They were hard work. “I don’t know why I came here expecting sympathy. I should have called Tori.”
“You came here because we need to redo the window display,” Holley pointed out. “And what are you going to do if you go to Tori’s? Are you in the market for a girlfriend now?”
Seriously. You make out with a girl one time while drunk in college and you never live it down.
“It’s amazing,” I said slowly. “How I’m still your friend after all these years.”
“I’m a great cook and have great ideas to get you laid,” she mused.
“You have never once gotten me laid, Holley.”
“Why don’t you do the blind dating?”
“Ugh.” I sagged and looked between my best friends. “I wasn’t on board when it was speed dating. What the hell makes you think I’m interested in blind dating? It’s infinitely worse than speed dating.”
Kinsley frowned as she brought an empty cardboard box over. “How is it worse than speed dating?”
“It’s completely unnecessary,” I continued, shrugging my coat off my shoulders and standing up. “It’s designed solely to force people into relationships they aren’t ready for, and quite frankly, I have no desire to have dinner with someone I don’t know if I’m attracted to.”
“Why don’t you tell us how you really feel?” Holley drawled. “It’s not, like… random. Mom is helping us, don’t forget.”