Page 106 of Not in My Book

His fingers tightened on mine slightly as if he was scared I’d leave after all of this. Instead, I moved to straddle him, his arms settling around my waist. I buried my face into his neck, holding him close.

We stayed like this for a few minutes as I tried to convey to him, without words, how much I cared about him. How I couldn’t imagine my life without him in it anymore.

“Aren’t you going to ask me why I didn’t like you?” I said, pulling back to meet his eyes.

“I’m going to ask you why youhatedme.”

“Again with the dramatics.” I tsked, pushing his hair back from his eyes. “I didn’t hate you. I hated that you hated me. You’ll be happy to know I thought you were hot.”

“Oh yeah?” He grinned.

“What I said to my parents was true too—I had thebiggestcrush on you after that reading. Like, Istalkedyou online. I couldn’t findanything but your LinkedIn so I asked around about you and everyone warned me. They said you were a dick and I shouldn’t waste my time. But I had this feeling, a pull. Even when youwerea dick in class—” Aiden’s hand curled around my hair, tugging lightly. “I’d linger afterward, just to get a few more seconds to look at you in that peacoat. I hated that you were a good writer. I was so jealous that everything you submitted was nothing short of eloquent.”

He studied my face, his grip on his waist tightening. “Tell me I’m not making up the way you’re looking at me right now.” His voice was low and hoarse. “I can’t pretend anymore. I’m so bad at it.”

I grinned. “Oh, I’ve got you now. No way I’m letting you go until I get another look at you in that peacoat.”

We were sitting on my couch, a book in each of our hands, her head in my lap. I ran my fingers through her hair, careful, as she had warned me, not to ruin her curls.

She’d been on the same page for at least five minutes. I looked down and her gaze was looking beyond the page, deep in thought.

“Hey,” I said softly, tapping her temple. “What’s going on in there?”

Her eyes flicked up to mine. “What do you mean?”

“I can see you worrying about something. Talk to me.”

She sat up and faced me, folding her legs under her.

“I was just thinking about if we never met. If we were never put in next-door cubicles together and forced to work on this presentation together. Would we have even found each other?”

I shrugged. “No use in thinking about that now.”

“Even if it meant we wouldn’t be here?”

“But wearehere,” I reasoned. “And there’s nowhere I’d rather be. I had the time of my life making you mad but loving you has been so much better.”

—Excerpt fromUntitledby Aiden Huntington and Rosie Maxwell

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

I hadn’t left Aiden’s apartment in the few days since New Year’s. We’d fallen into a comfortable rhythm and kept making up silly excuses for me to stay.

“Rosie, I read it’s a full moon tonight. The train is always weird on full moons. I really think you should stay,” he said one evening, right as I was slipping on my shoes.

“I think I saw it might possibly drizzle,” I said the next morning. “I didn’t bring an umbrella, do you mind if I stay?”

Yesterday morning, Aiden said, “I madewaytoo much pasta last night. Would you mind staying for lunch and dinner and helping me finish it?”

I gladly stayed every time.

But this morning, I woke up to Aiden reading my submission piece on his phone in bed.

My head was on his chest. One of his arms was wrapped around me, taking one of my curls between his fingers, playing with it. His other was scrolling through the story on his phone.

I peeked my eyes open at him, trying to read him. After a moment, he glanced down at me, and I quickly shut my eyes.

“I know you’re awake,” he said, amusement tinting his voice.

---