Page 95 of The Fall Classic

“Do not throw games!” she says, wheeling on me.

“You interrupted me,” I say, smiling. “And I could be wrong, but that sounded pretty exclamatory.”

She takes my face in her hands again, and my hands find her shoulders. “Are you trying to trick me into being nasty?”

Her thumb slides across my cheek as we gaze too long at each other. Her lips part and her breath hitches, and shoot, if now’s not the perfect time to kiss her.

But I force myself to drop her shoulders and back away. “If you say I have to wait until I get back to kiss you, then I’ll wait.” I look back down at the books so I’m not tempted to sweep her into my arms and kiss her till Alma finds me and kicks me out. “The second our season’s over, though, I’m hopping on the first plane to South Carolina to see you.”

“Okay,” she breathes.

“Okay.” I say. “Now let’s stock some shelves.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Georgie

I’m already down the stairs from my apartment at four thirty-one when I notice a truck next to the coffee truck.

It’s Logan’s.

His headlights cut through the misty predawn drizzle that adds a gray pallor to the green all around the lot. He’s leaning against the driver’s side door with a bottled Diet Coke in one hand and a Coke Zero in the other.

He’s grinning and looks far too bright-eyed for someone who stayed at my apartment until way too late. I wonder if he had trouble sleeping knowing he flies out tonight.

“What are you doing here?” I ask with a laugh when I get close.

“I’m bringing the girl I’ll be kissing in three to six weeks caffeine. My favorite coffee shop isn’t open yet, so this is the best I can do.”

“I’m so glad you remembered to get diet,” I say, taking the Diet Coke and then leaning into his chest. “Regular soda makes me feel like my teeth are growing fuzz.”

He chuckles and angles his head down so he can kiss my cheek.

I love that he kisses my cheek when he sees me. It’s like something out of an old movie, especially when paired with all of these romantic gestures—bookshelves, meals, surprising me at work.

With one of his arms around me, I crack the soda and take a long drink. How long ago was it that I mentioned in passing that Diet Coke is the one true soda?

I could get addicted to his brand of remembering.

“Does hot chocolate not make your teeth feel fuzzy?” he asks.

“I looked this up, actually,” I say. “It’s something about how acidic soda is. It makes the sugar cling to the teeth. Because hot cocoa and coffee drinks typically aren’t acidic, the sugar doesn’t stick to them the same way.”

He opens his own bottle and smiles at the satisfying hiss. “If anyone else were telling me this, I’d think it’s fake.”

“Should I be embarrassed I’m so uncomplicated or flattered?”

“Flattered. Always flattered.”

We both take another drink, and then I bite the inside of my cheek, wishing the pain gnawing at my heart wasn’t so much worse. “So, is this goodbye?”

“What? No, I’m coming to work with you today. I already cleared it with your boss.”

“Sorry, who?”

He doesn’t mean Marlowe, does he? The thought of him asking her makes my throat burn.

“Alma.”