“Yes.” I lift my chin, taking a deep breath. “I read romance novels. And I’m writing one too.”
“Hmm,” he says, and I can tell he’s struggling not to smile by the way his lower lip is trembling.
“You can judge me all you like, but—”
“Alex,” he says, his face softening as he places the book back in my basket, “why would I judge you for liking romance novels?”
I falter, surprised by his response. “Well… you thought it was hilarious when you saw me with them at work.”
“Did I?”
“You were making fun of me.”
“No. I wasn’t making fun of you. I was actually…” He rubs the back of his neck, and his cheeks turn crimson as his gaze falls to his feet. “I was trying to flirt with you. Not very well, obviously.”
“Oh,” I murmur, processing this. I think back to that day when he showed up at work. “Did you really forget that I worked there?”
“No,” he says sheepishly. “I… wanted to see you.”
Delight sweeps through me, and when he glances up with a shy smile, my heartbeat wobbles. For a second I forget all about the fact that I’m not supposed to be interested in him, and contemplate stepping forward to kiss him.
Shit. Snap out of it.
“And then I told you your book was crap,” I say, attempting to lighten the mood. “So you thought, fuck her, she’s a bitch.” I give a strained laugh, but Michael doesn’t join in.
“I never once thought that.”
He’s staring at me so intensely that my pulse is rushing. I swallow, suddenly aware that we’re alone down this narrow aisle, and he’s standing very close to me. It’s the bloody injured shoulder ordeal all over again. How do I keep ending up in these enclosed spaces with him? At least this time he’s fully clothed, though it wouldn’t be hard to remedy that…
I shake my head, willing myself to pull it together. I need to get out of this bookstore and get some fresh air. I need to take a cold shower.
I go to reach for my basket, but Michael stops me. “Is that why you didn’t want to tell me you’re writing a romance novel? Because you thought I’d make fun of you?”
“I don’t know.” I lean against the bookshelf behind me with a weary sigh. “They’re a bit of a guilty pleasure, I guess.”
“What is there to feel guilty about?”
I think of Mum’s words and cringe. “They give you unrealistic expectations, make you want things you can’t have.”
“Like what?”
The word “love” almost tumbles out of my mouth, but I catch myself just in time. Because that’s crazy—I can’t tell Michael that. But when I glance at him, I can tell he knows exactly what I’m thinking.
I look down at my hands. “Do you remember at Beanie, when I told you I felt like I had nothing to show for my twenties?”
“Of course.”
“Well… I wasn’t just talking about my career.” I may as well be honest. He probably deserves an explanation for everything, anyway. I mean, he told me he liked me and I just… didn’t respond. I didn’t tell him any of the things I was thinking. I just let him believe I didn’t like him at all.
“Okay, this is embarrassing, but—” I glance up and down the aisle, checking we’re alone. “I got dumped on my birthday, and it… made me really bitter.”
“Some guy dumped you on your birthday?”
I look back at Michael, expecting to see pity in his eyes, but there is none. If anything, he looks almost shocked.
“Alex, that’s… that’s fucking awful.”
“Yeah.” A humorless laugh breaks from me. “At the time, I thought he and I had something special. It’s pretty obvious now that we didn’t, but it was humiliating.”
Michael gives a slow nod. “And that made you stop believing in love.”
I nod too, unable to meet his gaze. “And, you know. I’m thirty and I’m still single, after dating for years. Lately I’ve felt like maybe these books”—I gesture to my basket—“aren’t realistic. Like maybe love really is a fantasy.” I scratch my arm, trying to ignore the sadness tugging at me. “For years I wanted to meet someone and fall in love. And the more I wanted it, the crazier I felt. So I just… stopped.” Well, I tried. But looking at Michael’s handsome, understanding face, I realize it hasn’t worked one bit. “I just wanted to grow up and stop believing in fairy tales.”
“Is that what you think growing up is? No longer being optimistic?”
“Well, you’re older than me and you’re…” I motion towards him vaguely, searching for the right word.
Amusement pulls Michael’s mouth into a smile. He raises his eyebrows, waiting for me to finish.
“Well, you’re kind of cynical.”
He nods. “I am, and it’s the thing I dislike the most about myself. I’d never realized that until I met you. Why do you think I’m drawn to you, Alex?”
I shrug, because honestly? I don’t have the faintest clue.
“Because you’re optimistic. You have a way of seeing the world that makes me want to be more positive. But what you’re saying about love…” His brow knits, and something flickers in his eyes. “There’s nothing crazy about believing in love.”
I gaze at him, feeling a wry smile creep onto my lips. “Well, I never thought I’d hear that from the same guy I ran into on Halloween.”
Michael grimaces. “Yeah. That guy was a dick.” I chuckle and he shakes his head. “I didn’t think I’d feel that way again either, but… things change. Sometimes people come into your life who make you question things you’d always assumed were the truth.” His eyes crinkle into a tender smile, and my heart swoops. Because I’m quite certain he’s talking about me.
I rub my chest, feeling an ache building behind my ribcage. I can’t believe this guy, standing here in the poetry aisle of the most amazing bookstore I’ve ever seen, telling me
