Book Boyfriend (Someday #5) Read Online Free Page A

impress had led me to seek escape in books, and books had been my salvation. They had opened up a world I never could have dreamed was possible. They had made the bad times better then, and they made the good times sweeter now. I was even devoting my life’s work to books. As a library science major, I hoped to one day become the person who led others to discover the mind-altering and, in many cases, life-saving power of books.
    So, even though I was happy to keep some positive parts of my miserable childhood’s legacy, I was ready to let other parts go. Like the part where it was hard for me to smile, trust people, or let them into my world because I was so afraid they were going to judge me or try to change me. I wanted to free myself of those walls, but I felt powerless to do it.
    I glanced over at Sebastian. His hand was casually slung over the top of the steering wheel as he maneuvered his truck down the road. Damn. What was it about his easy charm and his quick wit that penetrated my barriers so effortlessly, like a hot knife through butter? It scared me. But, oh, God, it thrilled me too!
    “Make the next right. My grandma’s house is the green one,” I told him.
    “Your wish is my command, darlin’.” He winked and expertly palmed the wheel to turn the truck onto her street. He parked at the curb in front of her house, turned the engine off, and opened the door to get out.
    “Wait one second.” I put a restraining hand on his arm to keep him in the truck. Then I took my glasses off and stuffed them in my bag. “I don’t wear these into the house because it worries her. She thinks I’m losing my sight or something. I just wanted to tell you ahead of time so you wouldn’t say anything.”
    Oh, God. There was that warm, confident grin again. The one that made me feel like we were in on a secret together. The one that made me weak in the knees and tingly in places slightly north of there.
    “Now, wait just one minute, Miche. Are you trying to tell me that you don’t need those glasses? They’re just for show?”
    “They’re an aesthetic choice,” I defended, trying to sound unaffected even if it was the furthest thing from the truth.
    “So, did they come prepackaged with some vintage tees, Doc Martens, and a selection of beanies in your hipster starter kit? Or were they a one-off purchase?”
    “Hey! I’m not a hipster.” My voice lacked the conviction I had planned to make that declaration with.
    “Oh, really?” he said in his lazy, seductive drawl. “Because, last week, you wore a T-shirt that said ‘The things you like, I liked five years ago.’ Now, if that’s not the very definition of a hipster, I don’t know what is.”
    I smiled. It was nowhere near the full-wattage grin Sebastian regularly lit up the room—and my libido—with, but it was a start. I paused for a moment to absorb the sheer awesomeness of the fact that he noticed what I wore and remembered it.
    “Touché,” I said. “I don’t really consider myself a hipster, but I concede the point. I do know a joke about hipsters though. Want to hear it?”
    He dramatically slapped his palm against his chest as if the shock were giving him a heart attack. “A joke? From you , my serious girl? Abso-freaking-lutely. I have to hear this joke. Go for it.”
    My smile stretched wider. “How many hipsters does it take to screw in a light bulb?”
    “How many?”
    I leaned back and shrugged, adopting an air of blasé indifference to perform the last line. “Oh, it’s, like, this really obscure number. I’m sure you’ve never heard of it.”
    Sebastian threw his head back and laughed from deep in his belly. He looked at me and shook his head, his eyes still shining with amusement, as his laughter died down. He took my hand and smiled, looking into my eyes as if he could see right down into the depths of me and liked what he found there.
    Warmth and satisfaction spread through me—things I hadn’t felt in such a long time that it