Page 16

Chapter Sixteen

Over the course of the week, I become a regular fixture at the bookstore. I go in at different times of the day depending on what else, if anything, I’m doing, but I spend a couple hours each day sipping coffee, eating a danish, and reading. I’ve spent a lot of time browsing the periodicals since I was reading the second book in the series I started. The couple in this book bear a striking resemblance to me and Brent. I am very encouraged by their happily ever after.

During my visits, I’ve made certain to spend time away from Brent when he’s there. At first, he seemed very uncomfortable with me being there. But after the second day of me hanging out without talking to him beyond placing my order or buying a book, he started to relax.

Today, I carried my coffee and croissant upstairs to the romance section. The third book in the series I’m reading isn’t released yet, so I liked the author on Amazon to get a notification when her next book comes out. When I saw the book was available for pre-order, I couldn’t place my order fast enough. But that means I need a new book, so I intend to browse. I’m frustrated to discover they don’t have a section of books labeled romantic comedy. I’m having a hard time finding books that don’t have lots of skin on the cover. But I’m discovering that even the books without a bare male chest can still be hard to tell if the couple is going to end up in bed.

“Another present?”

I jump and whirl around. The book, whose back cover I was reading, tumbles to the floor. Brent is squatted in front of the equally large fantasy section, perpendicular to the romance books. A box sits on the floor next to him. He has two of the same title in his hand and he’s looking over his shoulder at me.

“Um, no. This is for me.” I scoop up the book I dropped and turn back to the massive selection of romance novels. After scanning a few more blurbs, I grumble, “I wish books had a rating system like movies.”

Brent stands and strides over to stand next to me. “What are you looking for? Maybe I can help.”

“I love romantic comedies, but I prefer for them to be clean. Or at least not too steamy, you know?” I blush as I say it, of course, because who can talk to a cute boy about sex without blushing?

He cocks his head. “Clean, huh? Like wholesome?”

I arch a brow. “I mean, I guess. I never thought of using that word to describe it. Usually there are enough antics in a rom-com that wholesome seems too tame, but at least it won’t make me blush?”

I form it like a question because I’m not sure I’m explaining myself well. I don’t really know what I’m asking for and his surprised expression is making me doubt myself.

He nods. “I see your quandary. Romance does have a lot of heat levels. There are some that are very obvious.” He points to one of the many bare-chested man covers. On this one, the man is clutching a woman whose dress is falling off her shoulder. I screw up my face to show my discomfort. “ And there are sweet romances that promise no on-page steam, little to no swearing, etc.”

I frown at the books under the SWEET label. They don’t look anything like what I want. “It looks like that should be labeled syrup-y instead of sweet.”

Brent chuckles. “Books are frequently miscategorized or they straddle a couple categories and end up in the one you aren’t looking at. However, in our store, you’ll find most rom-coms under contemporary. And right now, the trend is for the covers to be illustrated. Like this.” He picks up a book and hands it to me.

I skim the back cover. The story sounds great. “But how do I know if there is sex in it or not?”

When Brent blushes, I smirk. I’m so relieved I’m not the only one who can’t get through this without my cheeks flaming. He’s probably not picturing us as the cover models for that steamy romance he pointed out though. Me in his arms, my palms pressed to his bare chest, and my dress tantalizingly askew. I swallow audibly and refocus my attention on the Brent standing in front of me. With his shirt securely in place.

“You can look up the reviews. Usually, reviewers will mention if the scenes were sufficiently steamy or not if the book has them. Or you can hop over to the young adult section and find rom-coms there. Those aren’t guaranteed to be free from bare flesh either, but they are less likely than their adult counterparts.”

Brent leads me to the much smaller young adult romance section. He picks up a book with the illustration of a boy and girl standing next to each other in front of a bank of lockers. Immediately, I feel my pulse jump. That totally looks like my kind of book. I grin at him.

“I think this will work. Thanks.”

“Let me know if I can answer any other questions.” He returns to the box of books down the wall from where I’m browsing. I read the back covers of several books that sound perfect. I want to buy them all, but if I do, then I won’t have reason to come back, so I force myself to choose one.

When I turn away from the wall to return to the armchair where I set my coffee and croissant down, I catch Brent regarding me like he can’t figure me out. That makes two of us, buddy. I want to chuckle out loud that his confusion over me is the first expression I can decipher.

I plop into the chair and crack open the book. I’m hooked from the start. The next thing I know, both my cup and plate are empty, but my stomach is growling again. I check my watch and see that more than two hours have gone by. I’m a slow reader, so I haven’t made it through half the book, but I can’t believe I’ve already read as much as I have before I’ve even paid for it.

I gather my stuff and tromp down the stairs. Setting my dishes in the bin near the bottom of the steps, I make my way to the register.

Brent is paging through a magazine when I walk up. The long lines of his legs and torso as he rests on a barstool behind the counter make my mouth go dry. He drums his fingers on his thigh to an unheard beat and I wonder what music he thinks of when nothing is playing.

He hops up when he sees me. “Whoa. I didn’t know you were still here.”

“I got totally sucked into the story and lost track of time.” I plop the book and my purse on the counter to dig for my wallet.

“You’re like Belle in Beauty and the Beast. I should probably just loan you the books over and over again. Do you have a library card?” He grimaces. “Though don’t tell the owners I asked that.”

I shake my head. “I like buying the books I read. I’m lucky enough to be able to afford them and it supports the authors.”

He smiles, but he’s also squinting like I’ve surprised him again. “And all the other people involved in publishing the book.”

I consider what he said as it dawns on me how well acquainted he would be with that end of publishing. “How many people are involved?”

He blows air through his lips and looks to the ceiling, raising a finger with each answer. “There are content editors and line editors, cover artists, book designers, marketers, distributors, retailers.” He spins a finger to point to the bookstore we are standing in. He shakes his head as he looks at me. “So many people.”

My mouth drops open as I think that through. “How can the purchase of one book pay for that many people to be involved?”

He draws in a deep breath. “More and more it can’t. That’s why so many publishers have closed, and others have bought up the smaller ones. And now that indie publishing is far more accessible, it makes it even more difficult for traditional book publishing to support all those people.”

“Wow. That’s a lot.”

“It is. My dad is always stressed about it.”

“I’m sorry.” I cock my head. “Will you go into the family business?”

Leaning a hip against the counter, Brent crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t know. My dad wants me to. I love everything about books, so he thinks I’d be a natural, but I think it would just ruin reading for me.”

“What do you like to read?” I want to hit myself in the forehead for never having asked him that before.

“Historical fiction, like Ava.”

“Right.” I’d forgotten he’d mentioned that. In all fairness, I was really nervous that day .

“But I also like biographies, World War II books, and horror.”

I laugh. “That’s pretty random.”

“Yeah. I’ll read anything, really. But those are the books I miss if I spend too much time reading other stuff.”

“Horror, really? Like slasher stuff?”

“I prefer psychological thrillers. The stuff that makes you afraid to move from your seat at night for fear something will get you.”

The way he emphasizes the word something makes me think he’s referring to something otherworldly, which reminds me of the first two books I read. I slap my hand on the counter. “I was reading a ghost story series – not a scary one, mind you – but I abandoned it for rom-coms. I’ve been thinking about going back to it. I wonder if you guys have it here. The Mediator series by Meg Cabot?”

Brent looks it up on the iPad and shakes his head. “We could order it in if you want it.”

“You can do that?” Goosebumps rise on my arms, I’m so excited about the future book potential.

“Of course,” Brent laughs. “We’re a bookstore. It’s our business. Do you want me to bring the books in?”

I nod enthusiastically.

“Which book are you on?”

“Three, but bring them all in. If I’m going to have a series, I want them all.”

He arches a brow as he types things into the tablet “What’s your phone number?”

I freeze.

He dips his chin like he’s encouraging me to speak. “So we can text you when they arrive.”

“Oh!” My blush gives away my misunderstanding. Mortification floods through me when his gaze drops to the iPad, and he almost hides a smile. I mumble my number.

“Great. They’ll be here in a couple days.” Brent scrolls through something on his screen and frowns. “I’m surprised you abandoned the series. These are romantic comedies too. Just with ghosts.”

“Oh!” Will the world please just swallow me up? “I have a lot to learn.”

Brent squints at me and cocks his head, clearly trying to figure something out. Maybe he’s wondering if I really am this clueless or just pretending. “We’re here to help.”