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“We’ve got half an hour to go and I don’t have much money left.”
He snorts, smiling at me. “That’s because you’ve bought at least one book from every author you’ve seen.”
“I might not ever see them again.”
He laughs while searching the room. “I’m going to head back to the bar for a drink. I’m getting thirsty. I swear, people have done nothing but talk my ear off since we walked in. My throat is parched. If I wasn’t so fond of the sound of my own voice, I’d be sick of it by now.”
I don’t bother telling him that it was him talking to every Tom, Dick and Harry and their family. It’s just who is he. Then again, I’ve been the same, which is unlike me. There’s just something about a fellow book nerd that makes me relax enough to speak.
“Okay. I’m going to head on over there and try to make my way down the line of authors. I’ve seen everyone I desperately wanted to, so who I see now is a bonus.”
He nods, leaning down to kiss me. “I’ll take these with me. See you in a few.”
I watch him go for a second, giggling when I notice a group of old ladies swooning over him. The second he’s out of sight, I make my way over to the last row of authors and begin my march down the aisle. I’m determined to see every single one of them.
*** *** ***
CJ lied when he said he would be back in a few. The place is now closing, and people have already begun filing out.
I begin to feel bad for how I’ve treated him today. I didn’t stop to consider how bored by all of this he would be. He must have been going out of his mind. I was being selfish with my own excitement. As soon as we’d leave one table, I’d be dragging him over to the next.
I feel a little bad, like I’ve mistreated him or something.
Today has been the best day of my life. I’ve never seen so many unicorn authors in one room before, and never authors this big. And all of it is because of CJ. He was the one who went above and beyond to get me the tickets—hell, the fact he even thought of something so personal amazes me. Not that he isn’t a compassionate person, but because most boyfriends would give you a bunch of flowers and a box of chocolates and be done with it. Not something like this.
I just hope he can forgive me for turning into a grizzly bear over books.
Books are something I’m truly passionate about. People have favourite TV shows, movies, or hobbies; I have books. I have the joy and escape they give me. They inspire me to be a better person, to hold out for something special. They gave me hope when I thought I had none.
And I know CJ will understand that. However, he still should have had my undivided attention today.
He might have left me here, not wanting to associate with the crazy-eyed person any longer. I wouldn’t blame him, either. We were only on the third author when I snapped at him for putting the book in the trolley on its side. The pages were bending and it was ruining the book. In my world, that is a serious crime. It’s like people who put books on their shelves without the covers facing outward. It just shouldn’t happen.
From there, I only got worse. If I wasn’t being territorial over my books, then I was acting like a girl who never got let out for a day in her life.
The day has been awesome though. I just wish I’d thought to have brought more money with me because there was so much more I wanted to buy. In my race to get on the road here, I left my bankcard on my bed at home.
One author had these cute little owl earrings, another had a bunch of beautiful dreamcatchers, and others had T-shirts, tote bags, and more cool stuff to buy.
I wanted it all. Even if I never got to use it, they would be great mementos for my time here.
My eyes search the almost empty hall once again, this time finding CJ walking toward me a few tables over. He’s carrying a big cardboard box with a few things overflowing from the top and is struggling to push my trolley.
I giggle at the sight and take a quick photo before rushing over to help him.
“What the hell is all this?” I ask, dropping my purchases down on the pile in the trolley. I don’t even know how we’re going to get this out to the car without something falling out. It makes me nauseous to think of one of my beauties getting ruined in the dreaded white stuff.
“I got a little carried away,” he says sheepishly, before dropping the box down on the table. Luckily, the author has already packed up and left, otherwise we’d be using the floor like a lot of others are, and I don’t think my back could take it. I’d never be able to get back up again.
“What do you mean?” I ask, leaning up on my tiptoes to see what’s in the box.
He laughs, pushing me away a little with a sparkle in his eyes. “Well, when we first got here you completely missed the raffle table they had going on?”
“What?” I ask, outraged I never saw it. I search the room, not finding the table in question. I freaking love entering raffles. I can’t believe I never saw it.
He laughs at my expense, putting the box down. “Anyhow, I went ahead and got a bunch of tickets. You won, which is what is in here,” he tells me, pointing at the box. “There’s three hampers with books and other stuff in it, a few signed books, a couple of amazon gift cards, and you won a purple HD Kindle Fire.”
“No,” I breath, staring at him in awe. “Really?”
