I Think I Love You

I Think I Love You

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USA TODAY BESTSELLER

A game of seduction between two best friends goes deliciously wrong in an irresistible Oxford Novel that brims with wit and sexual tension. Library Journal hails Layne’s work as exemplary contemporary romance.”

Brit Robbins knows that dating in New York City is hard—she just hoped to have it mastered by age thirty. But after yet another promising suitor says they have no sparks, Brit decides it’s time to torch her dating game and try a new plan. And who better to coach Brit through the art of seduction than the guy who first gave her the “let’s be friends” card?

Hunter Cross has always figured there’s nothing his best friend Brit can do to surprise him. But Brit’s request is a surprise he doesn’t see coming—and one he’s definitely not prepared for. Hunter and Brit have always been careful to keep things perfectly platonic, but the fake dates and faux flirting are starting to feel like the real deal. And soon Hunter realizes he has taught Brit too well. Not only has she become an expert at seduction, the man becoming thoroughly seduced is him.

One-Liners

Accolades
  • "When Harry Met Sally for the Twenty-First century." -Apple Books (Best Boook of the Month)

This girl always makes me smile—another must-read by Lauren Layne.”

— New York Times bestselling author Sawyer Bennett

“Poignant, sexy, and romantic . . . I Think I Love You will leave readers wanting more.”

—Tracy Goodwin, internationally bestselling author of Ice Hot: A New York Nighthawks Novel

I Think I Love You is a sweet, charming, sexy friends-to-lovers story and

a fun return to the Oxford/Stiletto characters. I can always count on Lauren Layne for a five-star read!”

—Jessica Lemmon, bestselling author of Rumor Has It

“Can I give I Think I Love You more than five stars? I’m not kidding. I freaking loved this book.”

—Kimberlyfaye Reads (five stars)

I Think I Love You is a passionate, friends-to-more rom-com . . . a perfect blend of drama, heat, emotion, hilarious hijinks, sassy banter, unconditional friendship, and true love.”

—What’s Better Than Books

“If you are a fan of contemporary romances that are fun and sexy, I would highly recommend I Think I Love You and the entire Oxford series. You won’t be disappointed. Do yourself a favour and read the entire series from beginning to end. You’ll love the stories and characters as much as I did.” —Twin Spin

“I absolutely loved this book! It makes me want to re-read this whole series. I love how all of the other couples showed up and played a role in this book.”—What To Read Next Blog

I Think I Love You is definitely for those that love friends-to-lovers romances and want to see what all of their favorite characters from the previous books in the series are up to.” —Star-Crossed Book Blog

“A great escape for a couple of hours and it made me add yet another author to my list of auto-buy authors. If you need a short and sweet read to enjoy this summer, then this book should be number one on your list.” —The Bookish Sisters

“When [Hunter and Brit] finally say forget it (not in those words exactly) and follow their feelings, sparks all but fly off the page. I couldn’t help but cheer for them. Fans of Lauren Layne are in for a treat with this installment.” —A Quaintrelle in the City

“A friends-to-lovers story with a twist . . . The boys of Oxford are back!”

—I Am, Indeed

I Think I Love You is a fun, sassy, sexy . . . entertaining and enjoyable [book]. The premise is engaging; the characters are sweet, flirty, and dynamic; the romance is heart-warming and intimate. . . . A lighthearted and wondrous romance for you to enjoy.”

—The Reading Café

“This book had a lot of great elements including great characters, fun banter, heartfelt moments, and a bit of heat. I had a great time watching Brit and Hunter find their happily ever after. I look forward to reading more from Lauren Layne soon.”—Carole’s Random Life in Books

“This is a hilarious, cute, and well-written romance. . . . Best friends to lovers is one of my favorite types of stories and one that I think doesn’t get done enough. This author does a brilliant job.” —Wicked Reads

“Lauren Layne writes my favorite kind of contemporary romances. The big city romances with strong, big city characters that you can’t help but cheer for because her writing style is so engaging.”

—Book Binge

I Think I Love You

is one of the most fun and spirited friends-to-lovers stories I’ve had the pleasure of reading.” —SmexyBooks

I Think I Love You is delightfully entertaining and sexy as clueless best friends become the hottest office romance.”—Harlequin Junkie

Excerpts

He was the perfect combination of elusive and attainable. He had a bit of that will he ever settle down vibe going on, with just enough Midwest niceness to make him the type of guy women wanted to settle down with.

On top of it all, he was hot.

Hey, he may be her best friend, but facts were facts.

. “I want you to teach me.”

The silence stretched on and on, until finally she forced herself to look up at him.

“Teach you what?” His voice was kind but completely confused.

“How to seduce a guy.”

His head snapped back, and he inhaled through his nose. “No way.”

She leaned forward and gave him a not-so-gentle punch on the arm. “Will you help me or not?”

“Not.”

Brit scowled. “You said you’d do anything for me.”

“Yeah, but not teach you how to … mate.”

“Mate? Okay, that’s worse than moves. And it’s not so tawdry as that. I just need some pointers on how to get guys to stop viewing me as a pal. That’s all.”

“Oh, is that all?” He said it sarcastically, dragging a hand over his face. “It’s weird, Brit. You’re my friend. My closest friend.”

“I’m your friend.”

“Yes, but right now you’re overstepping.”

He flinched.

Brit gentled her tone slightly. “You’ve never cared about who I pursued before. Why is this so different?”

“Because now I know of your … plan. And I don’t think Bradley Calloway is right for you.”

“He doesn’t have to be right. I’m not looking to marry the guy. Or even date him. I was just trying my hand at being anything other than good ol’ Brit, you know?”

“I like good ol’ Brit!”

“Well, damn it. I want someone to better than like me, Hunter!” she shouted.

The room seemed to go still, and she wasn’t sure which of them was more surprised by her outburst.

Hunter caught up with her, touched her arm. “Hey. I’m sorry. That was a dick thing to say.”

“Yup.” She reached for the doorknob without looking at him, and his hand slid from her biceps down to her wrist, closing around it lightly.

She went very still at the contact. She and Hunter touched all the time, casual, whatever, touches that she didn’t even notice.

For some reason she noticed this one. Noticed the emotion behind it.

Apparently he did too, because he dropped her wrist quickly and cleared his throat.

“Brit!” he said in exasperation.

“Okay, okay.” She gave a little shake of her head, and this time when she walked toward him, it was better. Much better.

“Good,” he murmured as she held his gaze. “Good, now pretend that I’m the boyfriend, and you only have eyes for me.”

He said the words as her coach, as an actor playing a part, but when their gazes locked and held, for one strange, weird moment, he forgot that this was Brit and that he’d just seen her pick lettuce out of her teeth.

He forgot that he’d eaten three pieces of pizza in front of her, and that he’d seen her through the flu, and she him.

Instead, he was thinking about that brief glimpse of the smooth skin on her torso, about the way the top hugged her full breasts …

Her thoughts scattered when she felt Hunter’s hand rest lightly on the small of her back. A fleeting touch, probably more instinctive that anything, but she felt the contact tingle all the way up her spine.

Had he ever touched her like that before? Maybe. Probably. She’d never noticed.

She noticed now.

Brit’s eyes lifted, met his familiar hazel gaze, which no longer felt warm and safe so much as hot and … tempting.

“I had a really great time tonight,” Brit whispered, meaning it. Without realizing it, she leaned into him even more.

“Good,” he whispered back. Hunter’s hand lifted to her cheek, his fingers skimming her cheekbone lightly before cupping her face in his warm palm. “Me too.”

Brit felt the bustle of the New York weeknight fading away. She ceased to hear the relentless chorus of taxi horns blaring, the shrill wail of a distant siren. She probably knew some of the people passing them on the sidewalk, approaching her building, but she wasn’t aware of them.

There was only Hunter, the touch of his hand on her face, the way his breath whispered against her lips as he dipped his head lower.

Brit’s hands lifted, seemingly of their own accord, coming to rest lightly against the lapels of his jacket.

This, she realized, as her eyes fluttered close. This was what it meant to ache for a kiss. To want it so badly, a little piece of you would die if you didn’t feel his lips on yours, like she couldn’t survive if Hunter didn’t kiss her …

Keeping one arm wrapped fully around her, he tugged the glove of his free hand off with his teeth and tucked it under his arm.

This time, when he touched her face, it wasn’t with a gloved finger, and it wasn’t her nose.

Instead, Hunter brushed a finger along her lower lip, and she froze, seeming to hold her breath.

“You’re flushed,” he said quietly. “You look beautiful.”

Brit swallowed, and Hunter’s voice grew huskier. “He’d be thinking that if he’s lucky, he’ll learn what you feel like under the shirt. If your skin’s as soft as he’s hoping.”

For a moment, neither of them moved, and Brit felt the hesitation in him, even as she felt the longing that matched her own.

This. This was yearning. This was wanting …

This was sexy.

Hunter’s hand moved slowly, very slowly, drifting slightly downward until it settled on her hip. His hand paused again. Waiting. Drawing out the moment.

His hand slid up again, slipping under her shirt.

Hunter’s palm touched her bare skin and she gasped, an unintentional exhale of want.

“Now what are you thinking?” His voice was a growl.

“I’m not,” she said, keeping her eyes squeezed shut, too afraid that looking at him would end this unexpectedly perfect moment. “I’m not thinking.”

“No? Why not?”

Brit shook her head. “I’m feeling.”

“Good,” Hunter whispered. “That’s good.”

She opened her eyes.

He was closer. Closer than he’d been before, his face mere inches from hers as his hand slowly stroked along her side, the pads of his fingers dragging over her skin softly, seductively.

“Hunter,” she whispered. Terrified. Needing.

His gaze dropped to her mouth, his head tilted down—

“What is wrong with you, Hunter?”

God, he wished he knew. He felt … out of control. Crazed.

Jealous.

He was jealous of that guy out there, who was probably perfectly decent. Possibly perfect for Brit. And instead of rooting for her, instead of doing as he’d promised and helping her get a date with the guy, Hunter wanted …

Hunter bent down and captured her mouth with his.

Brit gasped against his mouth but otherwise went perfectly still.

Hunter waited another moment, giving her a chance to push him away. Praying that she wouldn’t.

Slowly, his hands lifted to her face and his lips moved against hers. Slowly, he explored her mouth.

God, she tasted good.

Better than he’d hoped. Better than he’d imagined.

Better than he’d ever experienced before.

Hunter was watching her as she spoke. More accurately, watching her mouth.

“Don’t do that,” she whispered.

“Don’t do what.”

“Look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

She ground her teeth at his deliberate obtuseness. “Like you want to … you know.”

“Do it again?” His eyes came up to hers.

“Do you?” she whispered. “Want to?”