Page 62 of Booked on You
When I step through the door, Scarlett’s typing away at the desk, her back slightly hunched, fingertips flying over the keyboard. She’s fully immersed, eyes fixed on the screen with intense concentration between her brows.
It’s captivating to see her so utterly lost in the world she’s creating.
I place the food beside her, careful not to disrupt her. She pauses briefly, glancing up with lifted brows that are followed by a smirk.
“Breakfast, as promised,” I whisper. She leans into my closeness, her warmth seeping into my skin.
“Thank you. I don’t know how I’ll repay you.” Her fingers hover above the keys.
“No need. What’s your word count?” I ask from behind her. My lips brush against her hair as I glance at her screen.
She gives me a satisfied smirk. “Three hundred forty-two. Almost there.”
I chuckle, squeezing her shoulder before stepping back. “Text me when you hit one thousand. I’ll be waiting. Deadlines first.”
Scarlett’s eyes dance over me playfully, cheeks flushing. “You might create a monster.”
“Or you might be more productive than ever before.” I walk toward the door, letting her return to her fictional world.
She stops typing. “I have a high sex drive, and no man has ever been able to fulfill it.”
“Challenge accepted,” I say as I open, then shut the door behind me.
We’re tumbling out of control, and I welcome it.
I walk across the yard and return to my kitchen to prepare the same breakfast for myself. As the eggs sizzle, I pour a cup of coffee and blow on it before taking a sip. After I plate my food, I carefully pick up the book, tracing my fingers along the edges.
It feels intimate, like I’m holding a private part of Scarlett that she approved me to read.
After a deep breath, I open the book to the dedication.
For those who were crushed but never destroyed.
You survived. I’m proud of you.
I begin reading,knowing I’ll find her in these pages—the woman she’s been, and the scars she still carries.
The first few lines draw me in. Scarlett’s voice is engaging, impossible to resist. Her characters come alive. It’s easy to see why readers fall in love with her stories. I’m just a few paragraphs in, and I’m already hooked.
Romance isn’t my genre of choice, but I’m intrigued.
The protagonist, a woman named Ava, seems familiar with how carefully she guards herself, yet she keeps a hopeful heart. I pause, already seeing how much of Scarlett is woven into thischaracter. Her humor and her vulnerability are undeniable. By the time I’m turning to chapter three, Ava doesn’t feel like she’ll ever be enough for anyone, especially the man she’s in love with.
My coffee cools beside me as the story puts a chokehold on me. The love interest is charming and attentive, precisely the type of man who could sweep any woman off her feet. But beneath the charm, Scarlett masterfully layers subtle flaws. She notices his too-perfect smile, his hidden insecurities, and even recognizes his habit of holding back emotions. He gives her just enough to keep her guessing about their relationship and if what they have is real.
The tension builds, and I grow anxious as I turn the pages. I’m waiting for the moment when Ava’s heart shatters, knowing it will. And when the first betrayal comes, it’s cruel and sudden and unexpected. Anger twists hot in my stomach. Ava discovers another woman, secrets her fiancé kept, and promises he broke.
I feel Scarlett’s pain bleeding onto the pages.
When she catches him cheating again, I have to stop reading. My jaw tightens, frustration and protectiveness mixing into something raw. Whoever this man was, he didn’t just break Scarlett’s heart. He tried to destroy her belief in love itself. He dimmed her ability to trust, to write, to share herself openly with the world.
If this book was based on her ex, he deserved every fucking terrible thing said about him online.
Scarlett deserves someone who can hold her broken pieces without being afraid of getting cut, someone who can help her rebuild what was lost.
My phone buzzes beside me. My heart skips when I see her name on the screen.
Scarlett
