Page 22 of Don’t Fall For Your Ex-Boyfriend's Brother

Chapter 11

Millie

I can’t stop thinking about Tripp Atwood. What is wrong with me? Ever since he got me off the other night in my bookshop, I can’t erase him from my mind.

I kind of don’t want to either.

I’ve been a complete bookwhore for his chapters he sends, and at night I think about him while I touch myself.

It’s wrong. I know it’s wrong. Here I am, the good girl, having this secret affair with a man who just happens to be the younger brother of my ex-boyfriend. I’m sure they have some bro code or something about not dating each other’s exes.

Why am I even thinking about dating Tripp? That’ll never happen.

But his book he’s writing has me thinking he’d be the perfect guy. It’s about a man who’s been pining away for months about a woman he can’t ever pursue. I feel for the hero in the story. I can see the pain and anguish he suffers daily by not being with the woman he loves.

It’s sad, and it’s oh so hot. Like scorching hot. As I read the chapters I can’t help imagining I’m the woman the hero is pining after.

What I wouldn’t give for a man to want me like the hero wants the heroine. And when Tripp was touching me, making me see stars, I imagined he was the hero he writes about. I imagined he’d been pining for me for months, even years.

That he had this desire for me that he couldn’t handle anymore.

It’s silly, and I need to get my head in check before I end up getting my heart broken.

I’m sitting in my cozy little shop, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the faint aroma of old books, as I wait for the book club meeting later today. The soft hum of background music fills the space, keeping me company as I absentmindedly rearrange a stack of novels on the counter.

The door swings open, the bell above it chiming cheerfully, and in walks Oliver Moore. My hand freezes mid-air, book forgotten as I take in the sight of him.

I’ve heard plenty about the Moores—small-town gossip makes sure of that—but I don’t know any of them personally. I do know that Willow, the youngest of the Moore clan, is now dating Brock, a fact that’s been the talk of the town for weeks.

But Oliver... he’s something else entirely. Tall and broad-shouldered, with a confident stride that seems to command the room without even trying. His eyes, a deep shade of hazel, scan the shop as if taking everything in. He’s clearly a few years older than my twenty-four years, but that only adds to the air of maturity and quiet strength he carries with him.

As he approaches the counter, I give him a friendly smile.

“How can I help you?”

He smiles, and I realize it’s got nothing on Tripp’s smile. “I’m looking for a book on management. My parents are retiring this year and I’ll be taking over at Moore’s Restaurant.”

“Oh, that’s lovely,” I say, leading him toward the nonfiction section of the shop. “Are you excited to run things?”

He nods. “I’ve been working at the restaurant since I was sixteen, so I guess I know everything, but I feel like I can always learn more.”

I smile as I move to a shelf on management. “I love your restaurant,” I tell him. I try to remember the last time I was even there.

I think it was one night when Brock took me there on a date. We ended up spending most of the time in silence because we really had nothing to talk about.

“You should come by. Let me buy you a meal,” he says, leaning casually against the bookshelf. “Maybe I can get a night off to join you.”

I smile, my eyes widening slightly when I realize Oliver Moore is asking me out.

Another customer waltzes into the shop, and I blush at Oliver, blinking as he waits for a response.

“I’ll think about it,” I say, and then I point to a few books which are exactly what he’s looking for. “These books should help.”

He turns his attention to the books and thanks me.

“If you need anything else… I’m here,” I say as I walk away to help the new customer.

“Thanks,” he calls over his shoulder at me.