It feels like I’ve known Aiden for a long time—maybe because adrenaline and anxiety made me skip the normal small talk portion, or maybe because he’s just easy to get along with.
“Thanks for helping me today,” I say, more emotion than I planned on leaking through the words.“This was a great way to settle in.”
“It was my pleasure,” Aiden says, mock bowing, a massive smile on his face—then dumps a ton of basil-strewn fried rice onto his plate.“Spring rolls?”
I pass him the cardboard takeout box, and he hands me a pair of chopsticks.
For a few minutes, we’re totally silent, and it’s the amicable silence of two people who don’t feel the need to fill it.
Which means I can fully concentrate on my drunken noodles.They’re an ode to Thai food, truly, the perfect texture paired with the perfect spice level, just enough to make me nearly break out in a sweat but not so hot that the rest of the flavors are lost.
I chew with my eyes closed, just so I can fully concentrate on how freaking delicious it is.When I open my eyes again, Aiden is staring at me, chopsticks paused near his mouth.
I swallow hastily.“What?Do I have noodle on my face?”
I brush the back of my hand over the corner of my mouth, but it doesn’t come away dirty.
Frowning, I glance back at him, but he’s busy eating his own food like he wasn’t just staring at me.
Maybe I’m just imagining his staring—or, more likely, he’s noticed something disgusting hanging from my nose and is too polite to tell me about my foul booger.
That feels likely.Spicy food tends to bring out the worst in my nostrils.
“Websites,” Aiden says suddenly, and I try to surreptitiously dab my nose with one of the horrifically textured takeout napkins.It’s like wiping with tree bark.
“Websites,” I repeat, giving up on the booger.“I don’t know how to make them.”
“You need a domain.Have you decided on a name for your bookstore?Branding?Inventory?If you’re going to try to sit in a certain niche?”He frowns, then takes another bite.
“A certain niche?”I repeat.“Like, a genre?I figured I’d have a little bit of everything, see what sells, then buy more of that.Probably a lot of romance, because that’s a billion-dollar industry, but I like reading all the genres… except maybe non-fiction.I don’t love like… the Ted Talk type of non-fiction.”
“Okay, I think that’s fine.I don’t know as much about books.”
“Do you read?”I ask him, then laugh as he gives me a consternated expression.“I didn’t ask if you could read, I figured you knew how.I meant for fun.”
“Yeah, sometimes.Not as much as I should.”
“Good, good, I will make a reader out of you yet.”I rub my palms together like a cartoon villain, which means my chopsticks nearly fly out of my grip in a very violent fashion.
Aiden, surprised, glances up with wide eyes.
“I didn’t plan on shish-kebabing my eye tonight, but I’d want an audience if I had,” I deadpan.
He coughs, choking on his food, and then covers his mouth, raising a hand.
“Please don’t die,” I tell him as he slowly figures out how to breathe again.“I would hate for my new place to be haunted so soon.”
“So you are open to a haunting, then, just not right now?”
I frown, about to tell him it was a figure of speech—except it’s not really a figure of speech, just a shitty joke.“Huh?”
“Do you not know about New Hopewell?”he asks, genuine surprise making his eyebrows arch.“You didn’t Google us?”More fried rice goes in his gob, and he’s clearly over his near-death choking experience.
I’m not.I don’t want someone to die on my watch.
“Of course I Googled,” I say, suddenly feeling defensive.Guilty, even, because while I did look up the town, and the town website which is under construction, I probably could have done a hell of a lot more research.“I just, ah, was a little distracted by packing up my whole life and moving here.”
He holds his hand up in mock surrender, grinning as he swallows.“No need to get prickly, porcupine.”
