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“How do you know that?”
“I was nosey when I borrowed that thriller from you two months ago.”
“And I noticed you haven’t yet returned it. I was going to read that.”
Dylan laughed. “No, you weren’t.”
I turned and looked at him. “Did you know there’s a legit phobia where you’re afraid of running out of books?”
“Shut up.”
“No, it’s called abibliophobia. It’s literally that—the fear of running out of books. Most bookworms are hoarders of books for that reason. Like, realistically, I am never going to complete my to be read list. I have about fifty in the apartment, three hundred on my ereader, and I’m buying more here right now. There’s comfort in knowing I have books.”
“That is the best justification I’ve ever heard for buying books.”
“Thank you. I’ve been waiting to use it. Ooh, the new Jennifer Rebecca is out!” I reached up to the top shelf and snagged the last copy. “I’ve been waiting for this.”
“What’s it about?”
“I have no idea.” I added it to my collection.
“And you’re buying it.”
“Why wouldn’t I buy it? I already know I like her books.”
He frowned. “But what if you don’t like this book?”
I snorted. “Of course I’m going to like this book. Why is this so confusing to you?”
“I guess I wouldn’t buy a book without knowing what it was about. You barely even looked at the cover.”
With a sigh, I flipped the book over and read the blurb aloud. “There. Now you know it’s about a senator, a lawyer, blackmail, and lots of sex. Sold.”
He opened his mouth to say something but decided against it. Instead, he shook his head and pointed to the thriller section. “I’m going to see what’s over there.”
“I can get you any book you want,” I reminded him.
“I know, but maybe they have books you don’t.” He grinned as he threw my own words back at me. “Are you sure you won’t get lost?”
“Cannot promise anything,” I murmured, bending down to see what was on the bottom shelf.
“If I lose you, I’ll meet you at the car.”
“Okay, yeah.”
“Did you hear that?”
“Yes. I’m a woman. I’m perfectly capable of doing two things at a time.” I looked up. “If I get lost, you’ll meet me at the car. There.” I straightened up and wandered in the opposite direction to him. “Bye.”
I heard his laughter as he walked away, and I continued on my browsing mission. I adored our store more than anything, but it was only a relatively small space. These big stores were like crack, and since I knew this one was independent, I was more than happy to spend my money here.
After all, I was eighty dollars richer since Dylan had bought the microwave.
It was only right to spend that on books.
I kept looking, kneeling down and reaching up, flipping books over, browsing through the bargain bin, even going so far as to look at the non-fiction section just in case there was something good there.
I had no idea how long I’d been browsing when Dylan found me.
“You’re still looking?”
I blinked at him. “How long has it been?”
“Forty-five minutes.” His lips twitched. “I’ve been back to the car, waited, then had to come back in to find you.”
“Oops. I guess I need to go and pay.”
He eyed my stack of books. “Why do you need eight books?”
I clutched them protectively. “Why wouldn’t I need eight books?”
“Okay, no, I’m not getting into that again.” Laughing, he took my shoulders and steered me toward the register. “Let’s go.”
“Fine.” I did as I was told and completed my purchase. We were just leaving when I realized I hadn’t grabbed a coffee. “Oh no, we didn’t go to the café!”
“I did. You owe me two dollars for the cookie.” Dylan smirked. “’Cause I’m not taking you back in there.”
“So mean.”
“Next time I’ll just send you with a tent so you can camp out.”
“You’ll come back with me?”
“Sure. Look how happy you are.”
I dipped my head as I blushed. “I like books.”
“Saylor, I think you’re in a very serious, very committed relationship with books. I’m feeling a little left out.”
I laughed as we got in the car. “Well, I’ve known books for years. They had to take it slow at the start just like you.”
“At least I know the way to your heart. All I have to do is take you to a bookstore.”
“This is it. You’re the only person who ever figured it out. I hate flowers. Pizza only goes so far. But books?” I did a chef’s kiss motion. “That’s the one.”
“I’ll keep it in mind.” His lips pulled up in a sexy half-smile, and there was a moment where I felt my heart…
I don’t know. It wasn’t a thump or a skip, but something pinged inside me, and a rush of feelings spread through me.
Feelings for Dylan.
Strong, intense, very real feelings.
