“He showed up with chocolates and a heating pad and all kinds of junk food because he thought I was on my period.”
Eyes widening, she gapes. “No, sir.”
“Oh yes, sir.” I throw my hands out. “He’s perfect, Josie. Freaking perfect. And later, when I admitted that it was an ovulation tracker, he still didn’t freak out.”
“Wait,” she says, leaning forward. “How did you explain that with a straight face?”
I shake my head, squeezing my eyes shut. “I have no idea.”
She whistles, bringing her coffee to her lips. “Damn, Daddy Snow is obsessed with you.”
Forcing my chin up, I roll my shoulders. “I don’t know what to do. He won’t break up with me. I think Sutton’s right.”
With a ridiculous smile, she stares at me.
Eventually, I can’t take the scrutiny any longer. “What?”
“You don’t want him to break up with you. It’s written all over your face.”
“Yes, I do. I need him to.” I stab at my laptop with one finger. “I can’t lose this job.”
Smile falling, she sets her coffee down. “You’re not going to lose your job. The column’s numbers are up already. You’ve hooked your readers. They all want to know what you’ll do next to get the poor guy to dump you.”
“That’s just it.” I slump. “I can’t do it anymore. You’re right. I like him, okay? He’s nice and sweet and so fucking good in bed.” I lean forward. “Like so fucking good.”
She tips her head back and laughs. “Yeah, I can see that. So enjoy it. Your readers are enjoying your antics, and it seems like Camden istoo.” She shrugs. “If he didn’t dump you after the ovulation tracker incident, it sounds like you’re in the clear. The man is smitten.”
I squirm in my seat, processing her words. “So I just keep doing the crazy shit?”
She shrugs, brows lifted. “Or stop. But then you don’t have an article, so yeah, I don’t know about that.”
I slump back and sink down in my seat. I’m no closer to getting this week’s column written than I was ten minutes ago. “What would Sutton do?”
She laughs. “Probably invite him over for the holidays and doodle her first name with his last name on a piece of paper.”
Head hung, I bury my face in my hands and sigh.
Josie only laughs harder. “You know she would.”
Straightening, I pick up my phone and dial Sutton. The second she answers, I cut her off. “What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done in a relationship.”
She coughs out an affronted laugh. “Excuse you. How about ‘hello my dear friend? How are you doing?’”
“Hi, Sutton,” Josie singsongs like a goody two-shoes.
“Hi, Jose.”
“I’m serious. I need your help,” I whine.
“She really does,” Josie chimes in. “The man didn’t even dump her after she sent him her ovulation calendar.”
“Oh my god,” Sutton wheezes. “That’s amazing. By the way, I’m thoroughly enjoying your article and I’ve been following all your rules.” Her words get faster, her excitement palpable. “Royal and I are going on our third date next week. He’s coming to see me when the Bolts get back from their away stretch next weekend.”
Warmth blooms in my chest. “Aw, Sutton, that makes me so happy.”
“He’s really great,” she chirps. “And no, I haven’t slept with him or doodled our names or even asked him to come to Maine for Christmas. Honestly, your column really is helping me.”
Josie beams at me from across the table.
