Page 30 of Lift Me Up

“So, what do you do for fun?” He says with a smirk, leaning against the doorframe.

“Stunt driving for pink slips, obviously. The Audi in the parking lot is mine, don't you know.”

“Really?” His eyebrows raise.

“No, I couldn’t afford a car right now even if I wanted to.” I snort.

I hand him the coffee and he takes a casual sip. I can see his face trying not to wince. Did the sugar hit him in the back teeth? Or is it the really sad excuse for coffee? Either way, Noah says nothing, sipping again to make a show of trying, moving closer and leaning against the countertop.

I point to the cup, “You don't have to drink it if it’s bad. I did warn you,”

“You did, but it’s okay.” He shrugs. “So which of those books would you start with for a person with time on his hands and a need to keep his mind active.”

“Well,” I sip my tea, “It depends on the level of spice you want.”

“Spice?”

“How hot do you want it to be?” I ask.

“Still not following. Aren’t they just books? How can they be hot or spicy?” He’s so cute when he’s innocent, but oh my god. I am going to have to spell this out for him.

I scoff, “They’re not just books, they’re romance. And some of those are too hot to handle in broad daylight. Like, curl up in bed naked with your right hand at the ready kind of hot… Are you following now?”

How I ended up standing in front of him, hand on his chest and whispering low is beyond me. But I can see his visible swallow, the lick of his lips as he listens to my every word. Did I overstep? Did I read into it too much earlier?

“Following.” He blinks, releasing a breath that has me wickedly grinning.

I hum, “Good.”

I pat his chest and pull my hand away, watching him gauging my every move. I bring him back over to the bookshelf in question.

It’s a tall, black flatpack build-it-yourself 5-tiered shelf that houses the books that don’t fit on my bedroom bookshelf. Those are not suitable for the public and match the copies on my e-reader and audiobook app that never see the light of day. But these ones are tamer, in theory. I place a hand on the top shelf.

“Light, sweet, contemporary romance to make you blush and feel like you’ve just watched a Hallmark movie.” I move my hand down to the next shelf, a delicate finger tracing the spines. “Introduction to spice. Sex scenes that aren’t so explicit but get the job done.”

He focuses on me and only me, it makes me feel all tingly and warm inside as I clear my throat and move to the next shelf, “Spicy reads. Sex scenes that are explicit, sometimes kinky, and they continue onto shelf four, and then shelf five is the ghost pepper level of spice. There’s more in my bedroom. These are just the ones that didn’t fit in there.”

“Was that an invitation into your bedroom, Georgie?” Noah grins when I gawk.

Recovering quickly, I scoff again, “You wish.”

He hums, a low rumble in his chest. Is he agreeing with me? He pulls a book off the shelf and glances at the back without actually reading it, “I’ll bet you have a stuffed animal collection in there hiding somewhere.”

I make a pfft sound, flicking a hand to brush the idea aside. He doesn’t need to know about the small box of childhood memories, stuffed animals included, hiding in my storage room. He also doesn’t need to know about Sleepy Time Bear wedged between my pillows for safekeeping.

“This one.” He says, holding out the book. “What’s it about?”

He’s pulled from the fourth shelf down, the first book in the series I am currently reading, about badass boss ladies and the men that would fall to their knees for them without hesitation.

“I’m not sure that’s what you’re looking for as a first-time reader.” I warn.

“Oh?” He knits his eyebrows and reads the back again, confused. “Why is that?”

“I mean, hey, maybe it is. I’m not one to judge. It has dominant boss ladies, more submissive men, spice, the works.” I shrug.

“Can I?” He wiggles the book and I nod.

“You may. I’m on book three, so it’ll be like our own little book club.”