Anything for Her: A friends to lovers billionaire romantic comedy by Julia Gabriel

Author:Julia Gabriel [Gabriel, Julia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Serif Books
Published: 2021-03-22T18:30:00+00:00

The next morning, we step off the hotel elevator and the music hits us like a wave we turned our backs on. It’s loud, pumping, and features an unmistakable bass line of … barking?

We haven’t spoken about last night’s kiss. My body hasn’t forgotten it, though. My tailbone has been breaking out into a spontaneous little shimmy every now and then. In fact, I feel one coming on now.

“This looks kinda fun,” Ethan says as he surveys the mob scene that has taken over the hotel’s lobby. “Oh look!” He points at a giant Pissy Puppy mascot, surrounded by kids, camera flashes, and too many adults (in my opinion).

He wades into the crowd and I follow. We are back to being Ethan and Amy, besties since the Terrible Twos. In the suite last night, Ethan checked on work emails and I internet stalked Malcom Jones, the guy who swiped the department chair job right out from under me. Let’s just say he has two months to wipe his social media presence from the face of the internet. The Avondale Board of Education is ruthless when it comes to pictures of teachers partying or showing any bare skin beneath the neck.

I am struggling to keep up with Ethan in the crowd, when I feel a hand grab at mine. I look down to confirm that it’s Ethan’s before clinging to it for dear life. At the entrance to the ballroom, there’s a giant banner proclaiming, “Welcome to the First Annual Nautilus Pissy Puppy Grand Tournament!!!” A sandwich board next to the wide double doors says, “LIMITED NUMBER OF WALK-IN SPOTS AVAILABLE! TWO MILLION DOLLAR GRAND PRIZE!”

We are doomed. I can feel it in the way Ethan’s hand is tugging on mine, leading me ever closer to those wide double doors.

“Just one round. Please.”

I’m about to point out that, besides his obviously unfair advantage in entering a tournament for a game that HE DEVELOPED, the lounge chairs by the adult “quiet” pool will all be snapped up if we don’t get there early. (We learned that lesson yesterday. The hard way.) But then my tailbone chooses this exact moment to launch into a chorus line of high kicks … and I relent. The enthusiasm on Ethan’s face is so adorably boyish, yet somehow also so freaking sexy that I can’t say “no.”

Inside the ballroom, he signs up at the walk-in desk. The woman manning it shows no sign of recognizing “Ethan McNamara.”

“Make yourself a name tag,” the woman says and hands me a tote bag filled with Pissy Puppy and Nautilus merch, like I’m Ethan’s personal assistant.

Then again, what do I know? Maybe champion Pissy Puppy players have personal assistants. The game’s developer has one.

“Do you worry that Erin-Joi is throwing wild parties at your house while you’re out of town?”

“Nope. She’s just glad to be rid of me for a week.” Ethan peels off the name tag sticker and slaps it on his tie-dyed tee shirt. He wrote only his first name.

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