Chapter20
Morgan
Every small child’s dream upon seeingBeauty and the Beastwas to have a library like the one the Beast gives Belle, and I couldn’t be convinced otherwise. That’s why Cara and I had filled our home with books; having them around us made both of us feel like the world was right at our fingertips.
So whilst I had never been to Hay-on-Wye, the moment I had seen it mentioned for the first time – on social media, of course – I’d been hooked.
And now, as I walked into myfifthbook store (!!) in the last two hours, a used bookseller with books stacked so high they were wedged against the ceiling, I couldn’t help but feel like I was a tiny step closer to living that bookish dream. And I had a Gay on Wye tote bag already half full of books to prove it, including two books I’d picked out for Grey. I took a picture of my reflection in a window I passed, in theory to send to Cara, though I already knew she wouldn’t respond.
As I ran my fingers along the spines of the books on one of the shelves, I spottedthebook. I hadn’t known what exactly I’d been looking for, but I knew instantly this was it. I pulled it out from the shelf; it was packed in so tightly I had to use my other hand to keep its neighbouring books in place.
Every time we’d hung out, Jack had obsessively told me about the trees and rocks and whatever else around us. He knew every bird species, every flower, all of it. As much shit as I gave him for obsessively bedding in at home after all his travels, this was the most beautiful result of that bedding in: he knew everything there was to know about the landscape and life around him.
And so when I saw the deep forest green spine with a gold foil tree running up the side, roots and branches and thick, knotted trunk adorning every inch, when I felt the uneven deckled edges of the pages, I almost didn’t need to see the title to know that I’d found what I was looking for. But when I saw that it was an illustrated guide to the flora and fauna of the Wye Valley in the late 1800s? The book could have cost a month’s wages and I couldn’t have put it back.
I had a moment of panic when I did think about how much it might be, especially when I couldn’t see a price scribbled inside like in the rest of the books. But it was surprisingly affordable, so I bought a bookmark for good measure before walking back out into the summer sun.
But in the back of my mind – okay, pretty much front and centre in my mind – I was worrying about this little challenge. I’d never been a particularly good gift-giver; it was always way too much pressure trying to find the right tone, somewhere on the spectrum of silly to sentimental, and I felt like I always missed the mark.
For Cara’s twenty-first, I’d given her a necklace I knew she’d been admiring. We’d walked past a shop with jewellery on display, and she’d told me one of the necklaces looked sort of like one she’d been pining after that she saw one of her favourite influencers wear. It had cost me what felt like a fortune back then, but I’d thought it was worth it for a big birthday.
But when I gave it to her at her party, right in the middle of joke gifts from her friends like nipple tassels and offensive t-shirts, I could tell straight away that it had killed the vibe. And even though she wore it constantly, and had even posted a picture wearing it the other day, I had seen a brief flicker of embarrassment on her face that night that I’d taken things too seriously.
The book I’d found for Jack wasn’t particularly sentimental, but it wasn’t exactly funny, either. What if this was all meant to be a funny thing? And what if giving him something sentimental made him throw up his guard like he had after our near-miss the first time we’d hung out? I figured I needed a backup plan, and fast; I only had thirty minutes until I was meant to meet him for lunch.
As I turned onto Lion Street, I actually passed Jack coming out of one of the bookshops. I saw him before he saw me, and seeing him like this, unaware that he was being noticed, I could admire him properly. He really was handsome. I mean, objectively I had known that, but amidst the other people bustling around him, he looked like a celebrity, or the prince of some tiny European nation no one has ever heard of. His honey-blonde hair shone in the sunlight, and the stubble currently adorning his jawline made it look even sharper than usual. The sleeves of the white t-shirt he was wearing hit his arms at exactly the right spot to show off his biceps, which I knew weren’t from long gym sessions but from years of paddling and manual labour. Why was that such an attractive detail?
But most of all I loved how his resting expression was a smile. The corners of his mouth were turned up by default as he walked along the street. There was an intangible aura of warmth radiating off him, and I didn’t know how everyone wasn’t stopping to stare like I was.
Until he saw me watching him, that is, and his eyes went wide. He clutched a brown paper bag to his chest to hide it from me.
“I didn’t see it, don’t worry,” I said as I came close, though I did try – unsuccessfully – to get a peek at the logo on the bag.
“Have you gotten mine yet?” he asked, looking down at my hands. Helpfully I’d stashed his book in the tote alongside all the ones I’d picked out for myself and Grey.
I shrugged. “You’ll find out in half an hour, Evans. Now get out of my way.” I brushed past him with a wink, and his smile back to me, his green eyes crinkling at the corners, nearly made me go weak in the knees.
The shop he’d just come out of was one that sold new books, and I scanned the shelves for a second option for Jack. I was hoping he’d give me his gift first, and I could choose the most appropriate one in return. Eventually I found a book in the humour section about how to become a “grouchy old hermit”; it made me laugh, mostly because the first step was building a house with one’s own two hands. It was a throwaway, but it would be a good backup in case I’d missed the mark, so I paid for it at the till – along with a new fantasy release for me – and headed towards the pub Jack had sent me, which was up the hill at the south end of town.
Of course, he was already there when I arrived, sitting in the beer garden out back with his sunglasses on. Once I was settled we ordered from the menu on our phones, but from the way Jack was practically bouncing up and down by the time we’d paid, I could tell that we wouldn’t be waiting until after lunch to exchange books.
“Did you want to give each other the books now?” I offered, and he grabbed his paper bag before I’d even finished the question.
“I’m excited,” he said. “This was actually really funny.”
My excitement deflated slightly at this – clearly he’d gone the jokey route – but at least I had grabbed a backup.
“Actually,” he said, pausing with his hand in the bag, his face dropping suddenly, “you go first.”
I squinted at him. “Why?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I got nervous all of a sudden.”
“Okay…” I said, digging in my rucksack for the joke book. I had to move the nicer one out of the way to get to it, and for a moment I considered just giving him that one, but he’d said he went funny, so I pushed it aside and grabbed the hermit book instead.
I took a deep breath, tried to stop my leg from bouncing with nerves, and put the book on the table between us, facing Jack. “Here you go,” I said, and watched his reaction carefully. I watched his eyes scan the title, and he smiled, but it wasn’t the crinkly-eyed one he’d been wearing before.Shit.
“It’s funny because the first step is about building your own house,” I said, but dammit, I knew I had missed. Did he not find it funny?
