Page 14 of Catching Kyle

“…but you want to join a romance book club? Why?”

He glares at me. “I can ask you the same question. Aren’t these romance book clubs just for women?”

I scowl. I was already insecure enough staying at that first meeting. I’m not going to let Kyle, regardless of how hot he is, bully me into thinking I don’t belong.

“I’m an author,” I say.

He laughs. “Oh, really?”

I recoil. “What?” I ask, almost offended. “I work as a content writer by day, and I’m trying to be a romance author on my own time.” And I also make porn, but there’s no reason for him to know that. “This group will serve as inspiration. I’m trying to make my writing more compelling. I want to make it big as a writer.”

He perks up. “A romance writer, huh? So that means you know you read a lot of romance?”

I fold my arms. “Mostly, yeah. What does it matter to you?”

He leans forward and starts stroking his beard. God, his forearms are toned. And his upper arms are almost as big as my thighs. I just want him to wrap his arms around meand—

“I’ve got a proposition for you,” he says.

My chest tightens. “A proposition?”

He nods. “I don’t want to be going to these book clubs, but I have to. The reason why is none of your business.”

Sheesh. Alright. I guess if you’re this hot you can talk to people anyway you want. He may be a giving guy, but I feel like I’m being manhandled when he talks to me. And you know what? I don’t hate it.

“You’ve already come here. You know me. I want you to come by and drop off whatever book they’re reading next and tell me how the meeting went. I need to be able to prove that I’m going to these things.”

I fold my arms tighter. “Why?”

“Again,” he says, that drawl coming out. “It’s none of your business.”

I have to shift in my seat to stop myself from being aroused.

“Sound good?” He asks.

“Good?” I let out a sharp laugh. “You expect me, some guy with a job and a life, to drop everything to cater to some rich football player? Why can’t you just go to the book club yourself?”

He grits his teeth. “I just can’t,” he says. He saddens. “I just don’t want to, alright? Is that a good enough answer?”

I see pain there in his brown eyes, and I pull back. I don’t have to agree to help him, no matter who he is, but I don’t want to turn him down right now either. Not with how much he seems to want this.

“Do I get anything in return?” I ask.

He’s leaning forward onto his knees, shaking one of them. “I can give you whatever you want.”

Whatever I want.God, there’s so much I’d like to do with this man.

“You said you’re writing,” he says. “I can help.”

I raise an eyebrow. “How?”

“I can be your sounding board,” he says. “You can show me your work. I can give you feedback. Day or night, you can use me. ‘Cause you’re doing me a huge favor.”

Day or night I can use him. Fuck.

“Whatdo you say? I’ll pay you for gas, feed you, and honestly give you however much cash you want. Just until July. We can meet at this time every week.”

If I agree to this, I’d be seeing Kyle Weaver—the Kyle Weaver—on a weekly basis. I’m not sure why he needs my help with the book club, why he can’t just attend or even pick up the books himself. But he seems dead set on not telling me why, so I won’t argue.