Page 58 of Not in My Book

A Maxine-shaped space had been undeniably carved into my soul. Around her, I couldn’t ever stop the smiles that spread across my face—and given the way her eyes lit up every time my lips quirked, I didn’t want to.

I hadn’t really thought about Maxine as my best friend before, but for the first time in a long time, I felt like I could be myself around someone else. She might’ve been the best friend I’ve ever had.

“You might just be mine, too, Max.” I shot her a look. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

—Excerpt fromUntitledby Rosie Maxwell and Aiden Huntington

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“I can’tbelieveyou didn’t make them kiss,” I whined as soon as Aiden answered the phone.

“It’s not the right time,” he said. “They’re not ready.”

“Uh, yes they are. They’re basically screaming at me to let them kiss.”

“Then make them kiss in your chapter,” he whispered harshly.

I stopped in the middle of the street, basically asking to get run over. The streets surrounding Union Square were extra crowded now that the Holiday Village had opened up. A smile took over my face. “You’re scared of writing a kiss scene.”

He scoffed. “Please.”

“You are!” I let out a giddy laugh. “Oh my God, Aiden Huntington is scared of a little kissing.”

“Shut up,” he hissed.

“Why do you keep whispering? Should I be whispering, too?” I whispered.

“That’s typically what you do when in public spaces to be polite,” he said.

“That’s typically what you do when in public spaces to be polite,” I repeated mockingly in a low voice.

“Very mature.”

“Just write the kiss scene so I can write the next chapter,” I said. “We can’t be wasting time like this.”

“Or you can write the kiss scene inyourchapter,” he said again.

I shook my head. “It throws off my plan for my chapter if they haven’t kissed by now.”

“I thought we couldn’t be wasting any time?”

“Ah, sorry, connection is breaking … have … go … can’t … hear.” I hung up on him and slipped my phone into my pocket.

The truth was, I didn’t want to write the kissing scene either. I’d written kissing scenes before, some damn good ones, too. But something about exposing to Aiden the way I imagined other people kissing and inadvertently showing howIliked to be kissed was embarrassing. Naturally, the only thing to do was bully Aiden into it.

Now that all the extra money I was going to spend on my plane ticket was just going to be sitting in my savings account, I thought it’d be responsible to buy myself a few books. I heaved open the heavy door of the Strand, immediately relaxing as I stepped in. Despite how many times I visited the bookstore, I always had to pause in awe over the sheer number of books. On weekends when I had nothing to do, I spent time wandering the stacks and flipping through pages. I’d go up into the Rare Book Room and sit on the comfy chairs, reading until they yelled at me to leave. It was like a second home.

The Strand was full of people today, nearly wall to wall. Customers stood around the tables, lingering as they read the backs of books. They had decorated the store for Christmas: garlands hung between the lights and Santa hats sat on the cards that named each table. Christmas music played softly in the background, barely audible over the chatter of the store. I walked through the crowd of people toward my favorite section.

The romance section of the store was small, near the back of the store. If I was lucky, I’d be the only one in there, scanning through the titles—but someone was already in the stacks when I got there. I gasped. I’d know that peacoat anywhere.

“Aiden?”

Aiden, wearing a hoodie beneath his peacoat and a beanie, turned around. His mouth parted in surprise when our gazes met. He appeared soboyishstanding there. I hadn’t thought Aiden evenownedhoodies. But he looked so warm and cozy that I couldn’t help but take a step closer to him.

“Hey,” he said, raising a single hand. He held the other behind his back, and I narrowed in on it suspiciously.

“Whatcha got there?” I gave him a cheeky grin. When I stepped forward, he stepped back. When I tried to peer around him, he angled his body away from me. The horror section was right next to romance. He was probably a secret horror fan, which would explain why he’d found such glee in torturing me for the past few months.

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