Page 44 of The Hopelessly Bromantic Duet
“The butler did it,” I call.
He turns around slowly, a sly grin on?—
Holy beardability.
“Did I wake up a week from now, and you’ve got a full fucking beard?”
“It’s just two days of not shaving,” he says. “It’s not a full beard.”
I growl, low and guttural. That scruff. I want to feel the prickle of his beard on my face. My thighs.Everywhere.
“Two glorious days,” I say, then join him on the bench. “That’s like a week-o’clock shadow.”
He rolls his eyes. “You have a thing for beards, manners, and handymen.”
I waggle my brows, owning it. “I do.”
TJ takes a deep breath, a thoughtful-sounding one. “Would it be easier—you know, for this whole roommate-friend thing—if I shaved?”
I slice that horrid notion off at the knees. “Do not ever utter something so blasphemous again.”
“Noted,” he says.
I tap the book. “So, I was right? The butler?”
He tilts his head. “Have you read this?”
I cringe. “Sorry. I should, right?”
“You should. It’s the greatest mystery ever. I won’t say another word, but it’s genius.” He hands me the paperback.
“Are you done with it?”
“I’ve read it five or six times. And yes, I just finished it. Again.”
“That’s quite an endorsement,” I say, taking the book. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“But how do you read a mystery half a dozen times? Does your brain trick you into forgetting who did it?”
He laughs, shaking his head. “It’s not about the ending. It’s about how you get there. Every time, I find new details Agatha Christie planted. With every read, there’s something to discover about how to tell a story.”
That’s today’s reveal from TJ Ashford. I tuck it away for safekeeping. “I’ll read it next. As soon as I finish Rob Lowe’s memoir. I’m listening to that, though. That is, when I’m not listening to your music.”
“You like celebrity memoirs?”
“The dishier the better,” I say, wiggling my brows. “But I don’t just listen for the salaciousness. It’s good character work.”
TJ’s brow knits, and I can tell he’s working out my meaning. “You mean you learn how to get into different characters when you listen to wild memoirs?”
I tap my nose. “Exactly. Learning about all sorts of backgrounds helps me. I’ve devoured stories from Carly Simon, Patti Smith, Steve Martin.” I rattle off the non-celebrity stories I’ve enjoyed, then shift back to his day. “How was your tourist time with a work friend?”
“It was good. Alex and I went to Buckingham Palace.”
“Is Alex . . .?”
“He’s a friend. Born in Kenya, raised in California, just transferred here from our Beijing bureau. Speaks about fifty languages. A real badass. He covers London tech. So, we geeked out as two non-Londoners.”