Page 97 of Booked on You
“Okay,” she whispers. “I will.”
I gently place my hands on either side of her cheeks, brushing a thumb across her soft skin. “I know what it’s like to have strangers infatuated and obsessed. My mother protected me as much as she could, but once I turned eighteen, it was impossible to stay hidden because I was no longer a kid. Paparazzi followed me around for years. Most women have dated me for clout, which is why I let new people into my life as much as you do.”
“So you don’t,” she says, standing on her tiptoes and sliding her lips against mine. It’s gentle and full of emotion as she wraps her arms around my neck.
“Exactly,” I admit. “But you make me feel normal. It’s like you get it.”
She nods. “I know what you mean.”
The hint of vulnerability in her expression matches the soft flutter of nerves inside my chest.
She hesitates, biting her lower lip. “I want you, too.”
Relief washes through me, mingled with hope. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
Scarlett’s gaze softens, her fingers tracing gently along the hem of my shirt. “I might cry when I write the end of this book. Not because it’s over, but because I’ll have more time. Lately,I’ve been so busy wishing it away. For the first time in years, I want it to slow down so I can enjoy being with you.”
A chuckle releases from me. “It’s mutual, babe.”
Our kiss deepens, and before we can lose ourselves in the moment again, a knock on the front door interrupts us.
Scarlett meets my eyes with a playful smirk. “I guess the universe isn’t going to let me use that O-coin today.”
“It’s probably Millie,” I tell her. “Probably forgot something.”
I’m already bracing for my aunt’s teasing smile and knowing eyes as I pull the door open. But instead of Millie, I’m faced with Sara.
“Ezra.”
The look on her face is enough to tell me this isn’t a casual visit.
“Sara.” I force a polite nod, my mind scrambling. “This is unexpected.”
Her perfume drifts toward me, and she holds up a box of donuts. “I brought your favorite.”
She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, a nervous habit I recognize. “I probably should have called first, but I was nearby, and sometimes old habits die hard.”
I shift on my feet. “I’ve already said everything I needed to say.”
Sara straightens her shoulders, clearly sensing she crossed a boundary. “I’m not ready to give up on us yet. I thought maybe if we talked?—”
“Sara,” I interrupt her.
A moment later, a high-pitched sneeze echoes from the kitchen.
My ex’s gaze shifts.
Next thing I know, she’s brushing past me, stepping directly inside like she still belongs here.
“Sara,” I say, my voice full of irritation, pivoting to follow her.
She doesn’t respond, her heels clicking sharply across the hardwood floors. My pulse picks up as I trail her.
Scarlett leans casually against the kitchen counter, wearing my clothes, watching with curiosity instead of uncertainty. She straightens her stance but continues to sip her coffee like she’s unbothered.
“So, you’re the new distraction,” Sara says to Scarlett as she scans her from head to toe.
“Oh, I’m more than a distraction,” Scarlett says. “But I suppose you’re the old one?”
