
Bookworm by Cookie O’Gorman
Goodreads / AmazonBookworm (buk-werm): Someone who loves books, reading, and/or studying. For reference, see Charlotte Kent.
Seventeen-year-old Charlotte Kent likes happy endings. Not that she’s looking for one herself. Awkward, never been kissed, and bookish to the core, Lottie would rather read about love than experience it.
But she enjoys helping others find their HEA in books.
Lottie loves working at the library…even if it means running into Bo Stryker.
Broody, athletic, and unfairly attractive when he frowns, Bo works at the flower shop across the street. Lottie is about to get rejected…when surprisingly, Bo steps in, pretends to be her boyfriend, and steals her first kiss.
One viral video later, everyone thinks they’re together.
Bo wants to keep pretending. Lottie wants to make amends—long story short: she was on a ladder; he startled her; the book slap was an accident.
A fake relationship may be the solution. But as they grow closer, Lottie can’t help falling for Bo—which is a disaster because grumpy sunshine only works in fiction…right?
This book features two opposites with undeniable chemistry, one lovable librarian, so many stolen kisses and answers the question:
What happens when a nerd falls for the grump-next-door?
Rolling my eyes, I reached over, gently grasped his forearm and brought it closer.
“What are you doing?”
“Relax,” I said, trying not to laugh at the alarm I heard in his voice. “If I wanted to hurt you, I would’ve done it by now.”
“Says the girl who gave me a bookcussion” he grumbled.
Biting back a smile, I concentrated on his forearm, running my fingers over his skin to find the correct spot. This took a few moments. When I found it, I leaned closer, using my thumbs to press down, gently at first, then adding a little more pressure. Bo didn’t tense. He didn’t move a muscle. I might’ve thought he’d stopped breathing he was so still. But then I felt his breath against my neck.
The sensation sent shivers down my spine.
I counted the seconds under my breath and then released him.
“What was that, Kent?” he asked softly.
“I looked up how to treat a sprained wrist,” I said with a shrug. “It was nothing, just one of the techniques they recommended.”
“You looked that up?”
Meeting his eyes, I nodded. “Does it feel any better?”
Bo glanced down at his wrist before looking back up, locking me in his intense stare. “Yeah, it does. Thanks, Kent.”
For some reason, I blushed. “No problem.”
I didn’t know what made me say it.
But I added, “Maybe now, you won’t be so opposed to working with me.”
Bo shook his head. “It’s not that.”
“It’s not?”
“No,” he said. “I just don’t like the idea of you taking care of me out of some misplaced sense of guilt.”
Oh.
I hadn’t even considered that possibility.
“I thought you hated having me around,” I admitted.
“I don’t.”
“You even told me how much you hate people.”
“Not you,” he said.
My heart skipped a beat.
“I could never hate you, Kent.”

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