Page 51 of Not in My Book

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Tyler said, smiling softly. “He has a soft spot for you.”

My heartbeat sped up again. Maybe I had the smallest, tiniest, most insignificant crush in the world on Aiden. But it was a pipe dream—I never would imagine him to feel the same toward me.

“Now that I think about it,” Jess said, “lately, if someone else in workshop gives you a harsh critique, he glares at them.”

I deflated a bit. “I bet he just wants to be the only one to insult me.”

“In asexyway,” Logan piped up. “It might be a kink. It’s always the quiet ones.”

“Shut up.” Jess kicked Logan, shaking the table. She must’ve been able to tell I was uncomfortable because she said, “Let’s talk about something else.”

“I agree, enough about Aiden and me.” I sipped my beer, letting the bitter taste wash down my throat. “Did I tell y’all I’m applying for the Frost Fellowship?”

“You’re kidding!” Jess said in surprise, a smile taking over her face. “That’s great! Tyler, didn’t you apply last year?”

He nodded. “You definitely should, Rosie. I’m a finalist atThe Paris Reviewright now for a short story, and I think my fellowship helped a lot.”

“I’ve been working on revising a short story from last semester with Ida. I’m hoping they’ll be kind to a romance.”

“You should have Aiden look over it,” Logan said.

I scoffed. “No way.”

“I mean, heknowsyour voice. It couldn’t hurt.”

I fiddled with the label on my beer, peeling it off. The submission deadline wasn’t until the end of January, but I wanted to get it done now. I was so nervous for all of it, eager to just submit everything and be done.

“Maybe,” I conceded.

“And since Aiden’s got a fat crush on you, I’m sure he’d be more than happy to help.”

“That’s it,” Jess declared. “Next round on Logan.”

During the next class, I found myself staring at Aiden more than I ever had. He caught me once, and I felt myself turn so red that I thought about faking a stomach bug to leave.

After class, Aiden caught up with me to discuss the path for our next chapters. We walked down Fifth Avenue toward the Arch atWashington Square Park, our chins tucked against the cold as we walked quickly and stiffly together. Like a natural New Yorker, Aiden walked at an alarmingly fast pace. But he seemed to be making an effort to slow down so I wouldn’t basically be jogging next to him.

“They need to break up,” he said.

“No,” I whined. “They’re not even together yet! We have to at least let them kiss.”

He gave me a bewildered look. “In my head, I thought they would just fall in love, notbein love.”

“Not much of a difference, buddy.”

We walked around the park, between the trees and grass that reminded me so much of home. Even though it was freezing out, there were plenty of people ambling about—street performers and people walking their dogs.Thiswas what I loved about New York.

As we neared the fountain, Aiden stopped and turned toward me. “I don’t think they should kiss at all,” he said.

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” I scoffed. “They need to kiss. They should have sex, too.”

He pressed his lips together. “I’m not writing a sex scene, Rosalinda.”

“Uh oh, we’re back to Rosalinda, you must be serious.”

“I thought you said not every romance has sex scenes.”

I scowled up at him. “We don’t have to write erotica, but you know …” I looked away from him, suddenly embarrassed. “They should do stuff.”

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