I kept straightening books that didn’t need straightening, because it was easier than standing still with the conversation.
I ran my fingers along the spine of a paperback, aligning it with the others even though it was already straight. “I should’ve just said no from the start. Grandma was right. I’m too nice.”
“You’re not too nice,” Lucy said. “You just—” She paused. “You don’t like making things hard.”
“Same thing.”
She gave a small, quiet laugh. “Not exactly.”
We stood there for a moment, the shop settling back around us. I looked at the door, then back down at the table.
“He’s coming Friday,” I said.
“Yeah.” Lucy picked up one of the flyers from the counter and turned it over in her hands. “If he’s weird, just—” She stopped again. “You’ll be fine. You handled it.”
I looked at her. It wasn’t like her to trail off like that.
“I’ll be there,” she added, meeting my eyes. “I just—I don’t want to make it worse for you if I say something. I mean, I’m the drink-throwing type. I don’t want to make it awkward for you.”
“You won’t.”
She nodded, but something in her expression didn’t quite settle. “Okay,” she said.
Neither of us said anything else. I went back to the books.
I went back to the display, straightening a book that didn’t need it.
Then the door opened, startling us both.
Chapter 8
Jasper
Icaught the end of something as I pushed through the door. Not the words—just the residual tension of whatever had happened. Cara stood near the front display, a stack of books squared too precisely in front of her, her shoulders held a little tight. Lucy was beside her, angled just enough to put herself between Cara and the door without making it obvious. She was in protective mode, arms loose at her sides, chin slightly lifted.
Cara looked up when the bell chimed, and something in her face shifted—not relief exactly, but close to it. “Hey,” I said.
“Hi.” Her voice was easy enough, but her hands stayed flat on the stack of books, like she needed something to hold onto.
Lucy turned and looked at me, a small nod in my direction. “Hey, Jasper.”
“Lucy.” I nodded back. We’d crossed paths enough since I’d been back that it didn’t need more than that, but I held her gaze for a second longer than I otherwise would have. She was reading me the same way I was reading the room. Whatever had just happened here, she’d been in the middle of it.
I looked at Cara. “I finished it. The book.”
She blinked. Whatever tension in her expression a moment ago shifted into a pleased smile. “Already?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s not a short book.”
“I know.” I kept my voice easy, watching the tension ease in her shoulders. I wanted to give her somewhere else to put her attention for a minute. “I need more. Maybe two this time.”
She tilted her head slightly. “Did you like it?”
“I did,” I said. “Didn’t see the ending coming.”
The smile that moved across her face unfurled slowly and satisfied, like a reader who’d been waiting for that exact reaction, and something about it caught me completely off guard. Not the smile itself—I’d been braced for that, more or less—but the way it reminded me of being at that table in the library with her hit hard. The way it was entirely unselfconscious, like she’d forgotten for a second to be careful around me. I’d been on the receiving end of her polite smiles for months, the ones that were warm but measured, that kept everything at a comfortable distance. This one was different. This one was just her, pleased, not thinking about it.
