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She was just plotting how to hex him when her thoughts were interrupted by the door chiming. A broad-shouldered high schooler wearing a varsity football jacket entered.

“Hi!” she said warmly, walking over. “Can I help you with anything or just looking?”

The jock smiled at her sweetly, the white skin around his hazel eyes crinkling, and she felt Grayson watching from behind her. She could feel his icy eyes on her.

“I could definitely use help,” the jock said, running a hand through his wavy brown hair.

“Of course! What are you looking for?”

“I need a book,” the jock said. He gave her a conspiratorial smile, leaning in as his voice lowered. “Actually, I’m trying to impress a girl.”

Cute! Lucy smiled. “I can totally help you with that.”

“Perfect.” They walked over to a set of bookshelves, and she saw Grayson move ever so slightly, listening in.

“Do you know the type of book she likes?” Lucy asked. “Just to help narrow it down a bit.”

“Not really.” The jock shrugged. “And the book isn’t for her; it’s for me. I heard her tell her friends she likes guys who read.”

“Ooh.” Lucy giggled. This was too sweet.

“Yeah.” The jock smiled. He cocked his head to the side. “What would impress a girl like you?”

Lucy laughed. “Oh, I’m much too old for you.”

He sighed dramatically. “Shame.”

What a harmless cutie-pie!

Lucy picked out a few books, showing him. “If you’re trying to impress a girl, you can’t go wrong with Jane Austen,” she said. “Pride and Prejudice is the obvious choice, but I have a feeling you’ll enjoy Emma more.”

“Perrrrfect,” the jock said, his voice a drawl. She went to the counter, and he followed close behind. As she rang up his purchase, Grayson stared her down from across the store. It wasn’t until the jock left that she directed her attention to her surly assistant.

“What is your problem?” she asked, grabbing the books the jock hadn’t bought and stepping out from behind the register.

Grayson’s teeth were on edge; she could see his clenched jaw from all the way over here. He marched forward, coming to stand right in front of her. She tilted her head back to look at him.

“What?” she asked.

“I just find it highly unprofessional.”

She rolled her eyes; him and his accusations of unprofessionalism.

“What?” she asked. “Selling books?”

She walked toward a shelf, going to put the books back in place, and Grayson followed.

“That guy was clearly flirting with you,” he growled.

She snorted. “He was a child!”

“I’m sure he didn’t think that,” Grayson said.

He must not have heard the whole bit about looking for a book to impress another girl, and Lucy could have easily told him about it to assuage his sour mood—but why was he being so crabby anyway? His eye was twitching, for god’s sake!

But then she understood.

“Ooh, I get it,” she said, tone turning devious. She faced him and he startled, stopping in place.