Page 17 of Totally Geeked

“Why?”

“I deleted all those dating apps you hated.”

His eyes widen. “Seriously?”

“Yep. Figured I’d give them a break. Not like I was getting much out of them.”

“You were getting a lot out of them if I remember correctly.”

“Okay, so I was gettingthat, but now I want… I don’t know… More maybe.” I don’t know why it’s so hard to say this to him. Gordon really is like a brother. He’s always been there for me. He’s usually the one dragging me away from bars when I get too wasted to make good choices, and he’s always had my back.

“Good,” he says, slapping a hand on my shoulder. “You deserve way better than those two-minute men.”

“They lasted way longer than two minutes, trust me.”

“Yeah, but after you blow your load, that’s how long they stick around for.”

“Oh.”

“Umm, are you ready?” Arlo asks, walking down the stairs. He’s tied his hair back in a loose knot, and his cheeks hold a rosy pink glow. How much of that did he hear?

“Totally ready. Okay, let’s do this.”

The drive to the library hosting this reading is short, and when we pull into the driveway, he starts clenching the book in his lap.

“You got this,” I remind him. There’s a sign out the front of the library with a big image of the book andMeet the Authorin large text. “I meant what I said. You just say the word, and my wide ass is front and center.”

It gains a small smile. It isn’t much, but I'll take it.

I climb out first, and when I get to the other side of the truck and he isn’t out yet, I open the door for him.

“It’s just like the first time at Gordon’s. Pretend you’re reading to me. Just me.”

He looks up at me with a small half-smile still on his lips.

“Maybe sit on the floor again, but not at the front. The back’s fine.”

“I got you,” I say, and he steps out of the truck. A woman passing us whispers something aboutchivalry not being dead,and Arlo’s smile widens, sending a flurry through my chest.

Nope. Don’t. You’re not allowed to bang Gordon’s brother. Wejustcovered this. I try to shake it off, but the warm buzz radiates through me the entire walk to the room, and when he sits in the big leather chair at the front and his gaze locks on mine with that sweet nervous smile, I know I’m in serious trouble.

I take a seat on the floor in front of the first row of chairs, and just like the first reading, I get a few looks from children and parents, but this time, no one says anything. Arlo starts scanning the crowd, his fingers white-knuckling the edges of his book, but then the librarian, an older woman in her sixties wearing a long-sleeve red-and-yellow striped dress, begins her introduction. Arlo’s gaze settles on me, and all the weight lifts from him. He relaxes into the chair, props one leg up, foot resting on his knee, and begins the story.

It doesn't matter that it’s a children's story, or even that I’ve heard it three times now. The way his voice almost sings each line is something I could listen to all day. When it’s over, they move him to a smaller room for autographs, and I follow.

“Do you mind?” I ask, pointing to the chair beside him at the small table where they’ve set him up. There’s a bookshelf to his right with copies of his book set face forward and another giant banner like the one outside to the left of the table. The kids and parents line up behind me out the door, and he hurriedly nods and pulls out the chair for me to sit.

“That went okay, right?” he asks, leaning in close to my ear to whisper.

“You were amazing.”

The rosy glow on his cheeks deepens, and the first child steps up.

“Are you Gordie?” the little girl asks me, and Arlo chuckles beside me.

“Do I look like Gordie?” I ask, holding up Arlo’s copy next to my face.

“Not really,” the little girl replies, and I flick the copy open to my page.

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