the naughty mind tonight? I was simply getting ready to throw a spare.”
She doesn’t even blush. She’s undeterred. “Did she ask you out on the date?”
I frown, trying to remember who asked first. I shrug. “I honestly don’t recall.”
“You’re not helpful. You won’t answer my questions, and you won’t tell me how it started.”
“That’s partly because it’s not going to continue. I’m not seeing her again.” I return to the lane and send the ball down the hardwood, waiting until it smacks the remaining two pins, nailing the spare. When I turn around, I ask, “Why do you want to know so badly what it was like?”
Arden has never pumped me for dating details before. Not the tawdry ones at least. I half want to believe it means something, but it could mean nothing at all.
“Just curious,” she says nonchalantly as she grabs her favorite purple ball. She makes it sound so casual, her inquiry. But there’s that word again from Words with Friends—curious—and it snags on my brain. Why exactly is she so curious?
A second later, she gives me the answer. “Everyone’s coming into the bookstore buying these racier books. It just got me thinking.”
She turns away, heads to the top of the lane, and holds the ball in front of her.
And her comment has me thinking too.
About dirtier books.
If she reads them.
What she likes between the sheets.
What her curiosity has piqued exactly. Well, besides me. I’m definitely piqued, and I make a quick adjustment in my jeans so it’s not so damn obvious.
As she tosses the ball down the lane, her left leg arcing behind her, showing a hint of the back of her thighs, I groan.
I want to know the landscape of her body. Want to slide my hands up and down her legs, nibble on her ass, and make her whimper.
I would love to know what would make Arden go wild in bed.
That’s not only because I’m wildly attracted to her.
It’s because I want to know what makes her tick in the bedroom as well as I know what excites her out of it.
I want to know her in every way.
Sooner or later, I’m going to have to figure out how to drive this car clear out of the friend zone.
Sooner is my preference.
Like maybe this weekend at the party here at the bowling alley.
Maybe I can find a way to pique her interest in me.
10
Arden
“What kind of wine would you say goes well with a memoir? Something really hard-hitting and designed to rip my heart out?”
The question comes from a bespectacled woman who’s pawing through my display of non-fiction bestsellers.
“Like Educated by Tara Westover?”
“Yes. Exactly.”
I tap my chin. This is my forte. “You definitely want a merlot. It’s bold and powerful, but the best ones with the most fantastic grapes are so good, they make you want to cry.”
“Like Educated.” Her lips curve into a grin, her laugh lines a happy pair of parentheses.
“Exactly. Want me to set everything up for your book club?”
“Yes. It’s going to be a raucous night of…”
“Drinking wine and only very occasionally discussing books?”
“That’s exactly what a good book club should be.” The woman extends a hand. “I’m Miriam.”
“Arden East.”
“Someone likes you very much to give you that name.”
“My mom is pretty rad,” I say, thinking of my parents, who are happily traveling the world in their much-deserved retirement. This month they’re in Australia and sent me an email about their visit to the Sydney Opera House. “It’s better than all the travel books say,” my mom told me.
Miriam points to the nook in the back of the store, reserved for book clubs. “Is tomorrow night available? We plan on being loud and a little obnoxious.”
“As if I would want you to be anything else,” I tell her with a smile. “The store closes at eight on book club nights with my rowdiest gals. Would that work for a starting time?”
Miriam’s blue eyes sparkle with a yes.
The next evening, she parades in a troop of women about twice my age and introduces me to CarolAnn, who wears her jet-black hair in a sexy, messy bun; to Sara, sporting cat-eye glasses and skinny jeans; and to hobo-chic-styled Allison, who tells me I’m beautiful.
Possibly, I fall in love with all of them on first sight.
I busy myself with placing orders on the store computer at the front while the ladies discuss Educated and drink a rich merlot from Oak Hollows Vineyard, a few miles south of us. But soon enough, the wine