The Bookworm's Guide to Faking (The Bookworm's Guide #2) - Emma Hart Page 0,30

room until they rested at the foot of the curtains, leaving me a good four inches shorter than I normally was. “Yep.”

He laughed as I took my goodies into the bedroom and kicked the door shut behind me. There was a small table next to the armchair by the windows, and I put my snacks on there so I could drag the table over to the bedside.

I’d already taken off my shoes, and it took me far too long to remove my dress. It was all but stuck to me, but I was grateful to finally kick it off and replace it with a pair of shorts and my favorite ‘book lover’ tank top.

I unplugged my tablet from where I’d charged it earlier. The screen blinked off, so I turned it on and nestled myself into the bed while it loaded.

My phone blinked from the side table, and I grabbed it.

SAYLOR: How did it go? Did you lose your temper and blow the resort up?

ME: You are about as helpful as an STD.

SAYLOR: Thank you.

ME: What makes you think that’s even close to a compliment?

SAYLOR: Depends on the situation. If you want a guy to leave you alone, an STD would be VERY HELPFUL

ME: Your brain is a very strange place.

SAYLOR: I know. Try living with it.

ME: I do.

SAYLOR: I’ll ignore that. How did it go?

ME: Hell. It was absolute hell. I was introduced to everyone as Seb’s girlfriend and his GRANDPA WASN’T EVEN THERE

SAYLOR: Ouch. Well, if it makes you feel better, Tori is going to be at the reception tomorrow.

ME: Really? That’s random.

SAYLOR: Apparently she manages the website Kate uses for her business so she got invited. Must be nice to live a fancy life

ME: I’ve seen Tori work. There’s nothing fancy about holey sweats and Cheeto dust in her hair.

SAYLOR: It’s like you can see me.

ME: Again, there’s nothing fancy about it.

SAYLOR: I’ve seen you relax. I bet you’re wearing old sweats and eating junk food right now.

ME: Go away.

SAYLOR: Lololololololol

SAYLOR: That’s one way to scare Seb off

ME: Who said I wanted to scare him off?

SAYLOR: Your entire attitude.

ME: Seriously. Go away.

SAYLOR: It won’t worrrrrrkkkkkkkk

ME: Goodnight, jerk

I plugged the cable into my phone and put it down where she could leave me alone.

My friends were exhausting.

I was only slightly mollified that Tori would be here tomorrow at the reception and I could escape with her for a little while. God only knew I needed someone to help me get through the rest of this weekend.

“Holley?” Sebastian’s voice came through the door.

“Let me guess,” I called, pulling my ice cream onto my lap. “You need the bathroom.”

“Yep.”

I sighed. “It’s fine.”

He pushed the door open and poked his head through. “Sorry. One-bedroom suite, one bathroom.”

“It’s not your fault.” I shrugged one shoulder and dug into my ice cream. “Actually, it is. If you hadn’t booked out the entire resort…”

“And that’s why I’m sleeping on the sofa.” The bathroom door shut on his laughter.

My lips sealed around the spoon and I paused. Yeah. That was why he was sleeping on the sofa.

I shouldn’t have cared, not really. This entire weekend was all his fault and my crappy mood that meant I felt the need to eat my body weight and then some in junk food.

Although, this bed was huge.

I did feel a little guilty.

Groaning, I leaned back against the headboard and looked up at the ceiling. Why did I have to have a heart?

The bathroom door swung open and Seb held up one hand. “Sorry. ‘Night.”

“Sebastian,” I said right before he left the room.

“What? Do you need anything?” He raised his eyebrows in question. “Did you eat the ice cream already?”

“No. But I did forget the wine,” I mused.

“Want me to get it for you?” He disappeared before I could tell him not to worry.

I pressed my lips together.

This was why I had a heart.

It was so hard to be horrible to him and mad at him if he was going to keep being this nice to me.

Seb reappeared with a glass of wine and brought it over with a smile. He set it on the side table next to the popcorn and turned to leave again. “Night, Holley.”

“Wait,” I said. “You… You don’t have to sleep on the sofa.”

His eyebrows shot up. “What?”

“You don’t have to sleep on the sofa,” I repeated. “It’s uncomfortable.”

“Actually, it’s not so bad. I might buy one for my house.”

I pursed my lips. “Do you want to sleep on a sofa or on a