The Bookworm's Guide to Faking It (The Bookworm's Guide 2)

“They show peen lines.”

That was not what I was expecting her to say.

“I’m sorry?”

She reached over to my side of the bed and grabbed my half-empty bottle of water from this morning. After she’d glugged it down, she sat back up and said, “Peen lines. Gray sweatpants show peen lines. Like when women wear big panties and leggings and you see the panty lines on her butt.” She rolled to the side and drew a diagonal line across her butt cheek to emphasize what she meant.

I blinked at her. “They’re not leggings.”

“No, and thank God for that. Women everywhere would explode en masse if they were.” She stared at me for a moment. “Are you going to get changed?”

“Are you going to jump me in my sleep?”

“Only to murder you, not grope you, dear.” She gave me a wan smile, but there was a twinkle in her eyes that showed she was hiding a laugh. “Go.”

I did as I was told and retreated into the bathroom, pausing only to grab a clean pair of boxers and a t-shirt from my case. I tossed them over the side of the bath and undid my tie. It was so freeing to undo the top button of my shirt, and I rolled my neck from side to side.

What a long ass day it’d been.

I wanted nothing more than to climb into that bed and crash, but I had a feeling Holley was going to be awake for a while.

She hadn’t had a ton of alcohol, but she’d had a coffee not long ago.

I was beginning to wonder if that had been some kind of mistake.

“Sebastian! I need to pee!”

And I was done wondering.

“Hang on!” I shouted back through the door. I quickly changed into my clean clothes even though I’d intended to shower. She’d actually acted like she’d enjoyed being around me for the past hour, and even if he was a little drunk…

I was going to take it.

“All yours.” I stepped out so she could get in. She was already changed, wearing a pair of flannel pajama pants with a hole on the right knee and a faded bookworm tank top that I vaguely recognized from the window of the bookstore.

With a mumbled thank you, Holley ran into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her. I raised my eyebrows when, a moment later, there was a big sigh of relief from other side of the door.

Yeah.

This was wild.

I tossed my dirty clothes over onto the floor in the corner and went through to the mini bar in the living room. It’d been restocked at some point, so I grabbed two big bottles of water and some of the leftover snacks from the previous night to take through to the bedroom.

Holley was still in the bathroom, so I grabbed the remote control and jumped onto the bed. I turned on the TV and settled back against the headboard, glancing toward the bathroom door. A tap was running inside, and the white noise was broken by the loud flush of the toilet.

Why the fuck was I listening to this?

I shook my head and flicked through the TV guide to find something to watch. Not that I was sure that anything I chose would stay very long—Holley would likely change it as soon as she got in here.

The bathroom door opened, and she stepped out, peering at the TV. “I’m not watching sports.”

I sighed. “How about a movie?”

“How about Netflix?”

“I’m not sure the hotel has Netflix.”

“What kind of third world country is this?” She dropped onto the bed next to me and snatched up the huge bag of cheese popcorn. “What hotel doesn’t have Netflix?”

“When was the last time you stayed in a hotel?”

She paused, then reached up and pulled some clips from her hair. Her curls tumbled down, and she shook her head from side to side, sending them flying.

“Ooh. That was a bad idea.” She pressed her fingers to her forehead. “What were you saying?”

“I asked you when the last time you stayed at a hotel was,” I said, trying not to laugh. Tipsy Holley was kind of cute.

“Oh. I have no idea. When do I have time to visit hotels, Sebastian? I have a business to run and two unruly best friends to keep in line.”

“Do they know that’s how you refer to them?”

“I should hope so. I’ve been saying it for fifteen years.” She met my eyes and shoved a handful of popcorn in her mouth. “They’re just not as organized as I am. Sure, I forget birthdays, but we never run out of ink in our printer.”

“Your priorities are… interesting.”

“Can’t run a business without printer ink.” Another piece of popcorn went in her mouth.

“But you can forget your best friends and business partners’ birthdays?”

“They remind me. Also, I have reminders seton my phone that recur every year. They’re linked to my Google account so I don’t have to set them every time I upgrade my cell.” She grinned. “Now that is organization.”