Free Bookish by Olivia Hawthorne, Olivia Long Page A

grumbled, but I could see a small smile playing at the edges of her mouth, “you know, like normal folk.”
    “Auntie,” I said, “isn’t it time for bed? I’ll finish up in here.” I was trying to give her the hairy eyeball, communicate to her to piss off and let us finish up our goodbyes, but she wasn’t having it.
    “I won’t have you rutting on my kitchen table,” she said, “so I’ll stay put until he’s well and gone.”
    I went hot and red again, she was so outrageous at times, even if it was meant as a joke.
    “It’s okay, love,” Isaac told me and gave me a respectable kiss on the lips, “I don’t think the table could hold us anyways, we’ll need a sturdier surface for what I have in mind.”
    He winked at Auntie Abby and grinned when she harrumphed. He really was good with her, and I could see how much she liked him.
    “I’ll text you in the morning,” he said, kissed me again, and left.
    I heard the front door close, and before going to make sure it was locked, I turned to my grumpy old aunt. She was sitting at the kitchen table surround by cats. She had a mischievous grin on her face and she said, “That’s it, I like him.”
    “You wouldn’t know it by the way you talk to him,” I admonished her.
    “That’s how I know I like him,” she said, “he gives it as good as he takes it. He’s a keeper.”
    I sighed and walked out of the kitchen. “I know,” I said to myself more than anyone.
    “It doesn’t hurt that he’s got such a fine, fine ass by the way,” she yelled after me and let out a cackle.
    I had to smile as I slid the lock shut and set the alarm code. She was right, he did have a fine, fine ass.
    Now if only mine would look half as good once we were naked together, I might have a chance with the hottest man in the world.
     

Chapter Twelve
     
    “Who Is This Mystery Woman?” was the first thing I read in the morning. Chloe had texted me the link to an article on a well-known gossip site. This was getting bad, we were making our way out of the book world and onto the pages of the celebrity rags.
    I hoped Isaac hadn’t seen it. I looked awful in the photograph. We had been caught leaving the restaurant, his hand casually slung across my shoulder and me clutching my handbag like a freaked out parrot. My father’s chin jutted out of my plain face and my hair looked limp and washed out.
    At least the camera hadn’t added twenty pounds. Although my head was down and I had a horrid double chin.
    I could have curled up in my bed and cried, but I had to get back downstairs and help Auntie Abby.
    I splashed some water on my face, pulled on loose pants and a hoodie, and headed to survey the damage in the light of day.
    I’d been lucky; she’d let me sleep until ten. Usually under such an extreme situation, she would have had me dragged out of bed at the crack of dawn.
    “I made you tea,” she said as I flopped into a kitchen chair, “did visions of fine behinds dance in your head all night long?”
    “Ha ha,” I said and reached for my hot drink. She was spot on though, I had dreamt of him and his fine ass…abs…pecs…the delicious V that thrust down into the front of his pants. God I wanted to follow that V, what the hell had I been thinking? I should be in his arms right now, waking up and sliding my body against his.
    “You need to stop that,” Auntie Abby said. I looked up and she was staring at me with her scary penetrating gaze, like she could see into my soul.
    “What?” I asked and sipped my tea.
    “Underestimating your value,” she said.
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    “I see it in your eyes. I’m old, but not dead and I know damn well who Mr. Isaac James is. I know you think you’re not good enough. But you are, you’re more than good enough. I’ve seen his picture in a hundred commercials and magazine spreads, but I’ve never seen him look so good as last night.”
    “Uh yeah, he was basically giving us a wet shirt show