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Back The Dating Playbook
Chapters (52)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Dedication
  4. CHAPTER ONE
  5. CHAPTER TWO
  6. CHAPTER THREE
  7. CHAPTER FOUR
  8. CHAPTER FIVE
  9. CHAPTER SIX
  10. CHAPTER SEVEN
  11. CHAPTER EIGHT
  12. CHAPTER NINE
  13. CHAPTER TEN
  14. CHAPTER ELEVEN
  15. CHAPTER TWELVE
  16. CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  17. CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  18. CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  19. CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  20. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
  21. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
  22. CHAPTER NINETEEN
  23. CHAPTER TWENTY
  24. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
  25. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
  26. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
  27. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
  28. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
  29. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
  30. CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
  31. CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
  32. CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
  33. CHAPTER THIRTY
  34. CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
  35. CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
  36. CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
  37. CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
  38. CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
  39. CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
  40. CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
  41. CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
  42. CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
  43. Epilogue
  44. Acknowledgments
  45. Discover More
  46. READING GROUP GUIDE
  47. Book ClubDiscussion Questions
  48. Q&A withFarrah Rochon
  49. Bonus Scene
  50. About the Author
  51. Also by Farrah Rochon
  52. Praise for Farrah Rochon andThe Dating Playbook

“You’re not my trainer. You can’t boss me around anymore.”

She quirked a brow, waiting for him to catch up. She recognized the moment he did.

He grimaced. “You’re my girlfriend.”

“Which means I can boss you around whenever I want to.” She reached down and slapped him on his perfect ass. “Get that workout done. Then you can take me on our first real date.”

He pressed his lips to hers in a quick, fierce kiss, then left her standing in the kitchen. Taylor slumped against the marble countertop, a charged buzz thrumming through her veins.

“I guess it’s time to update that dating playbook.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Why did I agree to let you pick the place for our first real date? Remind me never to do that again.”

Jamar did his best to maintain a straight face as he asked, “You don’t like golf?”

Taylor cut her eyes at him as she picked up a driver and walked to the platform overlooking the driving range. Colorful circles of various sizes dotted the greens, each signifying a target for players to score points.

He’d specifically chosen this place with the hopes that she had never picked up a golf club in her life. Ever since that first pop-up workout at Zilker Park, he and Taylor had been engaged in a friendly competition, and he was just enough of an asshole to admit that he finally wanted to beat his girlfriend at something.

His girlfriend.

Damn, he liked the sound of that.

Sitting at the pub-style table in their private bay, Jamar draped an elbow over the back of the barstool and looked on as Taylor positioned her feet, using the yellow footprints on the artificial green turf as guides. She moved up a couple of inches, then back a couple of inches. She shifted her hands on the club’s grip, then shifted them back into the previous position.

He rubbed the spot between his eyes. They would be here forever.

Finally, she swung the driver back and smacked the golf ball. It sputtered off the tee and took a nosedive off the platform.

“All that dancing around and that’s what you give me?” Jamar asked. “I see why you don’t like golf. Your swing is pathetic. Stay right there.”

He hopped off the barstool and rounded the table, lifting a lob wedge from the collection of clubs on his way to the platform.

“First of all, you’re using the wrong club.” He pointed to the LCD screen, which displayed the targets for their current game. “You’re aiming for yellow. It’s the shortest target on the entire green, so you want to hit with a lighter club. And when you do hit, use a softer touch.”

He handed her the wedge, then stood behind her. Wrapping his arms around her front, he moved her hands into position on the grip.