Chapter 5
Anna
Dirty Books smells like paper and ambition—the kind that’s scribbled into notebooks, stuffed between margins, and occasionally left abandoned on a forgotten shelf.
I step into the bookshop, one hand clutching my phone while the other smooths my shirt over my jeans. The warmth of the space wraps around me as I make my way to the back corner where the Dirty B’s meet.
Our nook is fully decked out now—wingback chairs, throw pillows, and a rug that doesn’t match the wallpaper but works anyway. Vivian insists it’s the perfect vibe for “intellectual debauchery,” and to be fair, I’m just impressed she has the word debauchery in her vocabulary.
I drop into the loveseat beside Lily, pulling out my phone. “Am I actually on time for once, or is Vivian late again?”
“Late,” Tasia says, smirking over the rim of her wine glass. She’s already opened a bottle of red. Likely in case Vivian forgets to bring the booze.
“I figured,” I reply, pulling my phone out. “It’s practically tradition at this point.”
“Tradition or personality flaw?” Lily asks with a soft smile as she flips through our latest read like she’s trying to refresh her memory before a quiz.
“Can’t it be both?” Carlie chimes in, grinning so wide that her dimples dig in deep.
Before I can respond, the door to the shop jingles, and Vivian breezes in, her heels clicking against the hardwood.
“Ladies and gentleman, the life of the party has arrived!” she announces, holding up two bottles of wine like they’re trophies.
“There are no gentlemen here,” I call out without looking up, “and you’re late.”
“Fashionably,” she shoots back, making her way to her seat. “Before we get started, let’s all take a moment to appreciate me for bringing the good stuff this week. French, full-bodied, and entirely too expensive for people like us.”
Carlie raises her empty glass, her curls bouncing as she grins. “To Vivian. May her taste in wine always be better than her taste in men.”
The group laughs again, but I just sink deeper into the loveseat, dropping my gaze to my phone and pretending to scroll.
“So, where’s Quinn then? I thought he was supposed to be here,” Vivian asks, settling into her chair with the effortless grace of someone who has never had a single awkward moment in their life.
“He’ll be here soon. I have him training the new guy on inventory,” Tasia says, uncorking one of the wine bottles Vivian brought.
“I hope he’s here soon,” Vivian says, fanning herself dramatically. “I simply must know what he thought of the tryst between Bradley and Ming. I didn’t think I’d like his suggested read but it was so hawt!”
I snort under my breath, scrolling harder to avoid rolling my eyes.
Who does Vivian think she’s kidding? That scene wasn’t hot because of the steamy descriptions.
It was the emotional undertones—the way Bradley and Ming were finally on the same wavelength after all that tension.
Matching intelligence, shared vulnerability, and genuine chemistry.
You know, actual depth.
But maybe that’s giving her too much credit. For someone who claims she’s all about passion and fireworks, Vivian is about as deep as a kiddie pool. Still, part of me wonders if her fascination with that scene has less to do with the romance and more to do with the fact that it’s two men.
“Chang,” Tasia says, turning to me with a wicked glint in her eye. “What’s your excuse tonight? You’ve got that storm-cloud energy going on again.”
“Storm-cloud energy?” I echo, not looking up. “Pretty sure that’s just my face.”
“Uh-huh,” Vivian says, leaning back and crossing her legs. “So, who pissed you off this time? Tech bros? Dumb clients? Joel?”
My fingers freeze over my phone screen.
“What?” I say, keeping my voice as neutral as possible.
“You know—Joel Price,” Vivian continues, smirking like she’s enjoying every second of this. “Your favorite subject to rant about. Haven’t heard you complain about him in a while. What, did he finally drop off the face of the Earth?”
God, I could only wish.
“Maybe he got abducted by aliens,” Lily suggests, her tone entirely too hopeful. “They could be testing the limits of his obnoxiousness in space.”
“I think they’d send him back,” I mutter, wishing I could send him back. The image of him sitting on my guest bed playing my song makes me clutch my phone a little too tightly.“Too much ego, not enough brainpower.”
Vivian laughs, but it’s the kind of laugh that says she knows she’s hit a nerve. Shit.
“I don’t know, Anna. You seem awfully opinionated about him for someone who supposedly doesn’t care,” she taunts.
I finally glance up from my phone, arching an eyebrow as I try to exude nonchalance. “I have opinions about a lot of things, Vivian. Doesn’t mean I care.”
“To be fair, Chang might be right,” Tasia says, leaning forward and playing her forearms on her knees with a smirk “Her usual vibe is about one step away from ‘resting bitch face.’”
“Exactly how I like it,” I deadpan, earning another round of laughter.
Carlie waves a hand in the air. “Okay, let’s cut Anna some slack. If she wanted to complain about Joel, or anything else for that matter, she would’ve already. Let’s talk about the book. Smoke and Sapphire by Astrid Vaughn. I’m dying over here.”
Vivian sits up straighter, her excitement palpable. “Yes—finally. That scene with Bradley and Ming in the library? I was fanning myself, literally. Astrid can write a smexy scene between two men like nobody’s business.”
I suppress a groan, leaning back against the loveseat as I drop my phone. “It wasn’t about the tryst, though. You know that right?”
“What do you mean?” Vivian says, blinking her innocent eyes like a cartoon doe.
My face flatlines, but like an idiot, I bite. “It was the buildup—the way Bradley finally let his guard down, and Ming stopped trying to prove himself. The intimacy came from the emotional connection, not just the… logistics.”
Vivian waves a dismissive hand. “You’re overthinking it, Anna. It was hot, plain and simple.”
“Maybe for you,” I mutter under my breath, picking my phone back up. However, I rest a hand over my paperback, wondering if I’m the only one in here who can see the depth of the story.
Lily chimes in, her voice soft but thoughtful. “Anna’s right. That scene worked because the tension between them finally broke in a meaningful way. It wasn’t just physical.”
“Thank you,” I say, tipping my head toward her without dropping my emotional security device.
Validation feels sweet.
“Ugh, you two and your deep thinking,” Vivian says, rolling her eyes. “Sometimes it’s okay for things to just be steamy.”
“It’s called layers,” Carlie says, smirking as she pours herself her first glass of wine.
“Yeah, look into it sometime,” I fire at Vivian.
Before Viv can respond, the bell above the shop door jingles, and all heads turn toward the entrance.
Quinn waltzes in like he owns the place, his white curls are tipped with red and bounce with every step.
He’s wearing a red and white sequined jacket that catches the dim light and shimmers like a disco ball, paired with combat boots that somehow don’t clash.
I don’t know how he does it. He has a small bag slung over his shoulder that sways with his hips as he comes to a halt.
“Sorry I’m late, darlings,” he says, his voice lilting as he sweeps into the nook. “The new guy was slower than molasses, and I had to teach him how to alphabetize like a functioning human being. Exhausting, really.”
“You locked the door, right?” Tasia interjects, handing him a glass of wine.
“Of course,” he says in mock indignation.
Vivian gasps dramatically, clutching her chest as she stands and claps. “Oh my god, Quinn. Your hair. It’s everything.”
“Thank you,” Quinn says, striking a pose. “I call it ‘holiday inferno.’”
“It’s giving ‘peppermint chaos’ vibes,” Tasia says, grinning. She shakes her head slightly and takes a sip of her wine.
Quinn places a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “Rude. But I’ll allow it.”
“You all realize Christmas is still three months away, right?” I ask, my brain doing a full-on record scratch at the timing.
Quinn grins, unfazed. “Darling, holiday spirit waits for no one. Besides, it’s not about Christmas—it’s about the aesthetic.”
“The aesthetic of what? Looking like Santa’s flamboyant backup dancer?” Tasia quips, taking another sip of wine.
Oh, she’s salty tonight.
Quinn gasps, clutching his sequined lapel. “How dare you? Santa wishes he had this much flair.”
Vivian laughs so hard she nearly spills her wine. “Quinn, I missed you. Never change.”
“I never do, darling. Well, unless you include my hair, my wardrobe, and vibe,” he replies, sinking into his wingback chair with a dramatic sigh. “Now, what did I miss? You better not have been gossiping without me.”
“We were just about to analyze the Smoke and Sapphire library scene,” Carlie says, holding up her copy of the book. “And by analyze, I mean arguing about whether it was hot because of the tryst or the emotional connection.”
Quinn’s eyes light up as he pulls his copy from his bag. “Oh, finally! That scene was everything. I need to know where everyone stands.”
Vivian takes her seat, already looking vindicated. “Thank you! It was pure fire. No need to overthink it.”
“It wasn’t just fire,” Lily says, her voice calm but firm. “It worked because of the buildup. The tension was finally resolved, and it felt earned.”
“Ugh, here we go again,” Vivian groans, rolling her eyes.
“Sexy without substance gets boring fast,” I say, finally looking up from my phone. “The scene worked because it had layers. If it were just steamy without the emotional connection, no one would care.”
“Preach,” Quinn says, pointing his copy of the book at me like a microphone. “Bradley and Ming are perfection because of their vulnerabilities. The way they finally opened up to each other? Swoon-worthy. The tryst was just the cherry on top.”