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Suddenly, I’m standing upright again as the man holds me in front of him, grabbing onto both of my forearms.
Again, he pierces me with his dizzying gaze. “Lily, it’s me,London.”
I blink hard, unable to force my mouth to form words.
London?
As in …my London?
As in, my former nerdy best friend? The one who lived next door, who would stay up all night, talking through walkie-talkies about aliens and the meaning of the universe?
ThatLondon?
Oh my god, I’ve lost the ability to speak.
Quinn glances from London, to me, and back again. “Uh, Lily … Do you want to fill me in? Are Duluth’s finest gonna need a call?Or—?”
“No—” I spit out, holding out my hand. I turn back to London St. James. I haven’t seen him since we were ten and he was waving from the back seat of his parent’s minivan as they drove away.
Holy shit,he filled out well.
“London?” I breathe, barely able to get the word past my lips.
His grin melts my heart. “In the flesh.”
“H—how?” I manage to sputter.
“I, uh—” he runs his hand along the back of his neck. His eyes suddenly widen and he eyes the box on the counter. “You know, those aren’t for me.”
“Oh, I get it. That’s not mine,” I say, pointing at the pink magic still clutched in Quinn’s hand. “I mean, not now. I mean, maybe someday, but that’s Quinn’s. Apparently, they’re very good at—”
Quinn’s eyebrow rises and I clamp my mouth shut.
Stop talking right now, Lily.
My god. You almost told London about the vibrator’s usefulness.
Quinn looks far too smug and my cheeks heat as I turn back to London. “You know, I really need to get back.” I jab a thumb toward the door.
Disappointment floods London’s features. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was keeping you.”
“I mean, I’m just next door. Book club,” I say, trying to backpedal and sound more reasonable. Or adultish. That’s a word, right?
Now it’s London’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “At the dirty bookstore?”
I narrow my eyes, realizing it wasn’t the smartest thing to bring up. “I mean, yeah.”
“Our girl herelovesher dirty books,” Quinn offers, butting in.
“Quinn,” I hiss.
When I look back to London, he almost looks impressed. I take a deep breath and clutch the box of bookmarks to me like a lifejacket.
I need to go.Now.
“Well, we should catch up sometime,” London says, reaching out again and pressing his hand to my elbow. “Coffee, maybe?”
“Coffee,” I repeat, but the word hasn’t settled into my brain. It’s still floating around the universe as I try to make sense of the alternate reality I’ve fallen into.
