Page 18

Chapter Eighteen

My phone dings around 10:30 the next morning to tell me my books are in at the bookstore. Good thing, because I finished the adorable rom-com I was reading at about 1:00 this morning. I’m looking forward to getting back to the series I abandoned. It’s funny that I didn’t think it was a romantic comedy because there were ghosts, but once Brent mentioned it, I knew he was right. It has all the same story elements.

I carry my plate from last night’s dinner downstairs on my way out of the house. I’m surprised to find Mom in the kitchen, leaning against the center island with a coffee cup in her hand. Her outfit is uncharacteristically casual.

“Hey Mom! Where are you off to dressed like an outdoor enthusiast?”

She kisses my cheek and then rolls her eyes. “Your father thinks we need more exercise, so he enrolled us in a nature class through the community college. Every Saturday for the next six weeks, we’ll be going on some excursion that promises to make my thigh muscles burn and probably expose me to lots of mosquitos. ”

I tilt my head. “You outdoors? Please tell me he’ll capture all the most special moments on video.”

“You know he will!”

“I can’t wait to see it.” I drop my plate in the dishwasher. “Be careful though, okay?”

“I didn’t hear the girls at all. Did they stay over?”

“Nope. They’re both working so much I hardly see them.”

Mom cocks her head. “Did you have a date last night? You must have gotten home early.”

I shrug. “No date. I just hung out and…” I bite off my words. After Bridget’s reaction, I’m hesitant to tell anybody I’ve taken up reading. I shrug again. “You know. Stuff.”

Mom frowns. “Is everything okay? Now that I think about it, you haven’t been out in a while.”

I chuckle. “It’s fine, Mom. I think I’ve dated all the Oak Grove boys I care to date. I’m just taking a rest.”

Mom hums her acknowledgment while she studies me. “I admit, I envy you for your ability to stay home alone. I can’t remember the last time I was alone. I’m not sure I’d remember how.”

Her tone is so wistful that I feel a little sorry for her. “You should totally stay home alone with me one night. I’d love to binge a series and eat pizza with you. You’d have to get rid of Dad though. He’s no fun to watch T.V. with.”

Mom laughs. “I wouldn’t be alone if I was with you. But I love the idea, Sam. I’ll definitely do that. I’ll send you a calendar invite.”

I snort. “Somehow, I think a calendar invite defeats the purpose of what we are trying to do for you, but go ahead and send one. I’d love to have a girls’ night.”

“Spontaneity is not my thing, you know that.” Mom squeezes my hand.

“I do.” I give her a hug. “Have fun today. ”

She hums another acknowledgment, which makes me laugh. She definitely sounds doubtful.

As I steer Sunny down the driveway, I roll down my window and rest my arm on the sill. I breathe in the gorgeous summer day. The temperature has cooled off to a reasonable number. The sun bakes my skin when I stand still for too long, but a light breeze keeps it tolerable. The sky is almost too blue to look at, reminding me to slip my sunglasses on. It’s the sort of day I don’t mind being outside, so I park in the parking structure downtown instead of driving around hoping for closer street parking. I stroll from block to block, window shopping.

My nerves begin to fire as I approach the bookstore. It’s so annoying to feel this nervous. I thought I had mastered my expectations by simply making myself available. I’m walking in front of the store’s big picture window, filled with the latest books, when it hits me that Brent might not be working today. The thought halts me. Do I want to go inside and pick up those books if he isn’t even around? The sun’s glare on the window prevents me from peering inside to see if he’s working. But since I’m standing in plain sight right now, it would be strange for me to leave.

With the very real possibility he isn’t working, my stomach unknots, and I pull the door open stress-free.

The store is crawling with patrons. Something about the way they are dressed, or the way they are browsing in packs tells me most of them are tourists. I could be wrong though. I step around a family of five who collectively examine the back cover of a book and then dodge a couple walking toward the exit, a Beckett’s Bookstore bag swinging from the girl’s arm.

And there is Brent, ringing up another customer. He’s smiling and agreeing with something the lady said, and that smile makes me catch my breath just like it always does. Man, I want to make him smile like that. All the time .

I head to the coffee bar and slide onto a seat.

Brent glances over his shoulder. “I’ll be right…oh, hey, Sam. Be right there.”

“Take your time.” Because I love to watch you. I get my phone out of my purse and check to find I don’t have any new texts. I set it on the counter next to my purse and watch Brent ring up the two people in line behind the original customer.

When he finally comes over, I order the fanciest coffee I can think of just so he has to work on it longer. I scroll my social media like I’m not here for him specifically but steal covert glances at him as he works.

Brent sets a frothy drink in front of me. “How’s the book you got the other day? Are you enjoying it?”

“I finished it.” He lifts his brows. “I loved it. It was a little different than I’m used to. The main character didn’t start out intent on finding a boyfriend or with a crush on a certain guy. There was no indication that she would end up with anyone in the end. I was relieved when I started to see signs that her best friend liked her. He was a total cutie and they needed to get together.”

Brent chuckles.

“Oh, but the grand gesture.” I sigh.

“What do you mean?”

“To get the girl, the boy made a grand gesture. Went way out of his way to prove how much he liked her.” I blush. “It was really romantic.”

“Ah, the romantic part of rom-com.”

“Do you think stuff like that really happens in real life?” I sigh. “Nevermind. I know it does. But the grand gestures don’t always work like it did in the book.”

“You mean a promposal on the big screen isn’t romantic?”

I slam my eyes closed and scrunch my nose. Was he there that night or did he only hear about it? I peek through a single eye to see him chuckling. I sigh and look at him. “It was a grand gesture, yeah. But it would have been romantic if I was a movie buff.”

“Ah, I see. So, the gesture itself isn’t what makes it romantic.”

“I don’t think so. I think it should be meaningful to the person specifically for it to be really special. Otherwise, it’s just an Instagram moment.”

“So true.” Brent snorts. “Good timing on finishing the book since your order came in.”

“I know! I’m so excited to get back into the series.”

Someone walks up to the register, but because Brent is facing me, his back is to them. I tip my chin in their direction. “It’s busy today.”

He glances over his shoulder and straightens. “Weekends are always busy. Especially during tourist season. All the downtown stores pick up during the summer. I’ll be right back. I’ll bring your books.”

“Thanks.” I watch his easy manner as he greets the customer, and I admire the way his body just falls into place when he stands at the register. It’s strange for me to want to be with someone this much. My feelings don’t usually have a chance to develop and deepen before we start to date. On the one hand, I like the thrill of seeing him. The anticipation that builds when I know I’ll be able to talk to him. On the other hand, I hate the disappointment when he casually brushes me off.

Bek suggested I ask why he turned down my invitation. I would love to ask, but if I’m honest with myself, I’m afraid of the answer. What if it’s something I can’t fix, and it completely snuffs out moments like this? But what if it is something I can fix, and we end up dating? Wouldn’t that be worth the risk?

I sigh. Not just because I have no idea what to do, but also because someone just sauntered into line behind the person he’s helping. I don’t think I’m going to have the opportunity to ask him anything today, even if I did want to.

I sip my coffee and watch people browse. There is an adorable couple, maybe college age, who seem glued together at the hip. They’re standing in front of the travel section, and from here it looks like they’re picking up books about our town. Snatching a copy of the pocket travel guide I’ve paged through before out of its display, I hop off my stool and stride over to the couple.

“If you’re looking for all the inside info on Oak Grove, can I suggest this adorable little guide? It offers little bursts of history alongside suggestions on where to visit. You even learn how to access the local’s menu at the café.”

“Oh my gosh, that’s perfect,” the girl gushes. She takes the guide from me with a grin and flips through the pages. “It’s so cute, too.”

“There’s even a section about our local celebrity.” I point to Brent. He sees me, and the scowl I’ve somehow grown fond of takes over his expression. I smile at his suspicion, and he hesitantly returns his attention to the customer he’s helping. “Page thirty. The Post family.”

Eying Brent, the couple thanks me.

“No problem. Enjoy your stay.” Returning to my chair, I feel good about making the couple so happy.

I’m sipping my coffee and completely lost inside my own head when a stack of books plop onto the counter in front of me. My startled gaze locks with Brent’s. His is suspicious.

“How did you find out about that guide?”

My eyes widen at the accusation in his tone. It’s like I’m an undercover spy who has just been uncovered. “I read it!”

His eyes narrow further.

“I was drinking my coffee in this very seat one day, and…” I point to the display of travel guides on the counter. I leave Ca llie out of it, because it seems like he’d be mad at her if he knew she pointed out the Post family story.

He softens a little. “That couple was very pleased with the suggestion and ended up buying a couple other books to study the history of our town further.” He fiddles with the display of travel guides, though it’s in perfect order. “So, thanks for doing that.”

“Um…sure.” I’m so confused!

Brent sighs when he sees someone walk up to the register. “Can you hang out for a second?”

“Yeah.” Look at me acting super chill when inside my emotions are flailing.

“Be right back.” He gives me what I interpret to be a regretful parting smile and my confusion grows. On the one hand, I’m glad to be defining more of his expressions, on the other, what on earth can he want to say?

When the line at the checkout grows, I pick up the third book in the series and crack the spine. I might as well make good use of my time. I’m so into the story, that I ignore the person who slides onto the seat next to me a while later, assuming it’s another customer.

Until he says, “That good, huh?”

My head snaps to the side and I find Brent seated next to me. He clutches a toasted sandwich in his hand and a soda sits in front of him. With a nod to the book, he sinks his teeth into the sandwich.

“Yeah. I’m already absorbed.” I eye his food. “Isn’t it early for lunch?”

He’s chewing, so he simultaneously nods and shakes his head, which makes him look like a bobblehead. Albeit the best looking bobblehead I’ve ever seen. When he swallows, he says, “We have to stagger our lunch breaks, and because weekends are so busy, and I’m literally always hungry, I go first.”

I look around and see a lady I don’t recognize behind the counter. That’s when I realize that Brent chose to have his break with me. My heart races with excitement. But then I realize that I’m suddenly presented with the opportunity to ask why he turned down my dinner offer and my excitement morphs into nerves.

“Hey, I wanted to ask you something.” He studies his sandwich like it was prepared by Van Gough.

“Hit me.” Maybe if I don’t seem nervous, he’ll relax. But boy, oh boy, I’m buzzing with anticipation.

“The first time you came to the bookstore, you said you didn’t read. Now we can’t keep you stocked with enough books.”

I stare at him because that is so far from the subject matter I expected. “Is there a question there?”

“Oh, um…what changed?”

His discomfort confuses me. Heck, he confuses me. I shrug and shake my head. “I started reading.”

He glances at me and then grabs his soda. “Why though?” He shoves the straw in his mouth.

I screw up my mouth, considering how to answer, but in the end, I know I have to be honest about it. “Ava and Bek are both working this summer and I’m home alone a lot. I googled what to do when you’re bored, and the number one answer was to read.”

A laugh barks out of him and he looks at me. “Seriously?”

Even though I’m blushing, I look him in the eye and nod. “When I googled the best thing for nonreaders to read, this series was the number one suggestion.” I place my hand on the stack of books in front of me.

He laughs and shakes his head, and I wonder what he expected my answer to be.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Why did you turn me down for dinner?” As soon as the question is out of my mouth, I regret posing it. There’s no turning back once I know the answer.

Brent’s gaze immediately shifts away from mine and lands on his sandwich. A flush creeps from his neck up to his cheeks. “You know. You’re so experienced with dating and I’m…” he shrugs. “Not.”

I gnaw on the inside of my lip. Definitely not the answer I expected, and maybe not the answer I wanted to hear, but I’m not sure I truly understand. “What do you mean experienced?”

I hold my breath as I watch him grow seven shades of red.

“Come on, Sam. You’ve dated all those guys.” He’s spinning what’s left of his sandwich as if he’s looking for the perfect next bite.

“Dated being the key word. You realize that, right?”

Brent glances at me with his now too familiar scowl on his face. “What do you mean?”

This conversation is so awkward, and I flush with heat again. I don’t even know if it’s embarrassment or anger flooding through me. My fists clench in my lap, and I shift so I’m angled more toward him. I don’t want anyone else to hear this. “I don’t know what kind of reputation I’ve earned out there, but I’m beginning to suspect it isn’t what I deserve.”

Brent drops his chin like he’s ashamed, but he’s definitely listening.

“The way I’ve always approached dating was to go out with a guy one or two times. If, after the first date, there isn’t an obvious connection, I don’t go on a second date. If there are no sparks flying after the second date, I don’t go on a third.”

Brent’s brow furrows further, but he stays quiet. He seems to be staring at my purse, which rests on the counter in front of me.

“Brent, I think I’ve kissed maybe four boys, tops, and they were all tame kisses. So, if experience means to you what I suspect it means, I don’t have it.”

He releases the death grip on his sandwich and sets it on the small plate in front of him. His hands shake as he pulls them into his lap. “Really?”

A large breath escapes me. It contains all the frustration and anger that I’m feeling, and I think I see Brent flinch away from me. But then he surprises me.

“I’m sorry, Sam. I don’t mean to doubt you. You have no reason to lie to me.”

The words make me pause. They’re good words, but he’s still not looking at me, so does that mean he doesn’t believe me? “Look, Brent, I don’t know what you’ve heard or assumed about me, and I don’t want to know. I’ve decided to change my dating philosophy anyway, because I think I’ve been hiding behind it somehow. Using it to avoid making a real connection. You can believe me or not, it doesn’t matter. I think you’re cute and wanted to go to dinner with you. That’s all. If that makes you feel like you will suddenly be expected to perform, and you aren’t comfortable with that, then I accept your refusal and we can move on. You’re a good book geek for me to know, so I’m not going to stop asking you questions about books. I’ve got a lot to learn.”

I slide off my stool, suddenly desperate to be away from him. As I’m fumbling with the stack of books, he reaches out and rests a hand on my wrist.

“Wait,” he says.

Humiliation has me shaking all over. Frustrated tears burn behind my eyes. I hate having to defend myself like this, and I desperately want to get away from him and lick my wounds. But instead, I pause, hands gripping the stack of books in case I need to dash away after all.

“I haven’t really dated anyone before at all. Even if all you’ve done is go out on first dates, it’s still more than I’ve done.”

I sigh and plop back onto my stool. I place my hands in my lap and stare at the stack of books in front of me. “Well, I’ve clearly been doing it wrong, so it isn’t as if I can help.”

A surprised laugh bursts out of him. “I doubt you’ve been doing it wrong. Not if you have guys like Chris pining for you.”

It’s my turn to puff out a laugh. “He’s not pining for me, Brent. He’s teasing me.”

Finally, Brent shifts and locks gazes with me. “Chris is definitely pining for you. He’s totally got a thing for you. You are all we ever hear about during practice.”

I squint. “For real?”

The corner of Brent’s mouth curls up while his eyes narrow. “Man, you are nothing like I expected.”

I open my mouth to…what…balk? Laugh? I’m not sure how to react, so I close it again. Does he mean that in a good way? Do I want to know? Did he expect a self-assured person and he’s surprised to find an insecure one? It seems like there is too much to overcome with Brent.

His gaze shifts to the register and then he checks his watch. “Shoot, I have to get back to work.” He takes a huge bite of his sandwich and washes it down with soda. “Sorry.”

In his defense, he looks sorry. But even so, he shoves the final bite in his mouth, buses his dishes, and disappears into the back room.

I hop up and pay for my stuff quickly before he comes back to the register. I race out of the store, balancing my stack of books while I speed walk down the sidewalk. Somehow, I’m even less sure about how I feel than when I walked into the place.