I roll my eyes. “Hannah insisted on driving me.”
Abe nods with a smile. “She knew you were a flight risk.”
“She did. She knows me all too well, I’m afraid.” I can barely look him in the eyes; he’s so handsome and my heart is beating so fast right now. My lashes flutter as I force my gaze to his face. “What did you say to her? One second she wants to gouge your eyes out with a dull spork then the next she’s bouncing on my bed singing your praises. It was vomit-inducing.”
He laughs again, white teeth a little crooked on the bottom.
Adorable.
“I don’t know…I just told her the truth.”
“Hmm. Well, it worked, because here I am.”
I didn’t even put up a fight, not really; my heart was never in it.
Glancing at him again, my stomach flutters, ripples floating to the base of my throat—who could stay mad at that face? Abe Davis is a teenage dream, and now he’s mine, too.
“You already know what I’m going to say about what happened,” he begins. “Do you want to talk about it again?”
Not really.
Yes.
“I’m tempted to say yes, but…I don’t suppose it would serve any purpose.” I give myself a mental pat on the back for sounding so adultlike and rational. I’m impressed with myself, and I hope he’s impressed with me, too.
“Skylar, I…” Abe lifts his ass off the ground, repositioning himself on the concrete floor. “It’s been a really long time since I’ve been on a date. Years.”
“Are you trying to tell me you have no idea what you’re doing?”
“Yes.”
Good. That makes two of us. It’ll be like the blind leading the blind—which could be a train wreck, but oh well.
“I’m not sure I know what I’m doing either, but I know I’m not interested in dating around. I know myself well enough to say I don’t do casual very well.” I take a peek to see how he responds to this news; in not so many words, I just told him I’m the kind of girl who wants to be exclusive, expects loyalty, and wants a commitment.
Especially when it comes to sex.
I don’t sleep around. I don’t freely give blowjobs, participate in make-out sessions, or let anyone touch my body unless they’re committed to me.
That’s the deal, take it or leave it.
His nod is slow. “When I do something, I’m all in.”
Stupidly, we grin at each other, all the bullshit from the prior week fading away as his brown eyes crinkle at the corners and those white teeth bite down into his bottom lip. Abe breaks the contact first to look down at his shoes—dark gray suede boots. Kind of dressy, kind of not.
Hip.
Is that a thing? Do people say that?
My face tips up toward the dim lights until my eyes are scanning the wooden bookshelves, hundreds upon hundreds of books shoved precariously on each row. Dusty, this store is full of shadows, yellow pages, and worlds waiting to be discovered.
“How did you find this place?”
“My mom is a librarian, and she found it parents’ weekend. It’s kind of her thing, finding bookshops in whatever town she’s passing through or visiting. She’s a book nerd.”
“Are you?” Clearly he knows his way around this place if he knows where the romance section is.
“Yeah, I read a lot.”
Ugh, my heart can’t take it! “Do you come here often?”
He only seems slightly embarrassed. “It’s a great place to come clear your mind, sitting here among the stacks.”
“Do you always sit on the floor?” I mean—it’s concrete and not even remotely comfortable.
“No. There’s one table in the back, but the chairs aren’t great. I do homework here sometimes.”
A hidden gem.
I love it.
“Abe?”
“Hmm?”
“If you liked me so much, how could you let your roommate take me out?”
It’s the million-dollar question I didn’t realize was in the back of my mind, one that takes him a few minutes to reply to. I’m patient, waiting while he sits quietly across from me, thinking.
“I don’t know.”
I can see that there’s more coming, so I wait some more.
His lips part. “All I know is that I prayed like hell that first date was going to suck.”
“It did.” I laugh. “He’s pretty awful. Not in a mean way, just…he’s selfish. It’s not necessarily a bad thing—I’m sure there are girls out there who are into assholes, but I’m not one of those girls.” Jack Bartlett will never be my type, not even with his handsome face and fantastic body. “Plus, he wasn’t as tall as it says in his profile.” My eyes roll, but I’m grinning.
“Am I tall enough for you?”
I squint sideways at him. “I don’t know. I can’t remember.”
“Maybe we should stand up and measure.”
“All right.”
Abe crosses his legs and rises in one fluid motion, extending his hand down to me; his palm is warm but rough. Calloused and hardworking. Sends shivers down the back of my spine.
We’re face to face but not eye to eye, and I stand ramrod straight in front of him so we can measure our height difference, my hand on the top of my head aiming straight at his chest, resting there.
Landing just at his collarbone.
One whole head taller than I am with flat shoes on.
I don’t dare glance up, but my hand stays put, on his chest, flattening against it all on its own. Palm on the fabric of his soft flannel shirt, the heat from his body—and the beating of his heart—warming my skin.
Abe doesn’t move.
To anyone coming across us…I can’t imagine what we look like, standing here in the aisle, bodies practically touching. Innocently at first.
Always innocently at first…
Then.
Abe pulls back, creating space, his arms reaching behind my head. I can’t see what he’s doing until he produces three thick hardcover books from a top shelf and bends to set them on the floor.
He takes my hand.
Guides me up so I’m standing on top of the makeshift step stool, several inches taller than I was before.
Well. This is innovative.
My chin tips up, directed once again by his fingers, and I swear, my bottom lip trembles a little. Just a bit from both nerves and excitement.
I haven’t been kissed in ages—years, it feels like, though it’s probably only been months. Some drunk guy at the bar hardly counts; it was sloppy and wet and unmemorable.
Okay, maybe not so unmemorable since I’m remembering it now.
Focus on his mouth, Skylar!
His pouty, full mouth.
Abe doesn’t cup my face or run his fingers through my hair—but he doesn’t have to. The energy between us is static. Supercharged.
The chemistry is like nothing I’ve ever felt with anyone.
And to think I almost threw it away.
One heartbeat at a time, our lips slowly touch. It couldn’t be any slower, but it buys me time to memorize this moment to replace any old ones. To lock it away for tonight, when I’m in bed, lying in the dark underneath my covers.
Alone.
When our warm breaths finally mingle, beneath the soft lighting of the secondhand bookshop, Abe slips his other hand around my waist, pulling me in. Soft lips. Gentle. Pressing against mine.