Right Guy, Wrong Word

by Jewel E. Ann

ninety-seven degrees on the second day of June feels like Satan has come for Midwesterners first—surprising

Is he flirting with me after insulting my book choice?

I playfully lean into him and quickly right myself because he’s a slippery guy. I can’t fall for his charm when I know he has such poor taste in books.

He’s insulted my favorite book. And books are my friends, so I must defend my friend.

Life isn’t fiction; I get it, even if sometimes I don’t like it. So I don’t expect this to play all the way out. But … it does.

“What’s that saying about hiding treasures in plain sight and no one will find them? That’s those damn books. Men have been trying to figure out women since the beginning of time, and women decided to hide their secrets in the very books that make us roll our eyes at them when they read them.”

“Kiss me.” She grins. “Call me your baby.” She kisses my neck. “And tell me I’m pretty. It’s all I need.”