Page 20 of Not in My Book

“None at all,” I answered sweetly.

“Then I guess I’ll see you in the next chapter.”

He brushed past me and walked off, lost in the crowd. I stayed where I was, trying to calm my racing heart. As much as I hated him, I couldn’t turn off the part of my brain that turned everything into a scene from a romance novel. I hated how I wished he would’ve leaned forward just abitmore to plant his lips on my jaw. The intense look in his eyes was enough to make any girl need to close her eyes and collect herself. Next chapter, he wasreallygoing to know what I thought about him.

I couldn’t take the incessant ringing anymore. I promised myself I’d stay away from him today because I had to focus on my portion of our presentation. But it was impossible when he ignored every call that came through.

“Can you pick up your goddamn phone?” I snapped, turning in my chair. Hunter and I were cursed with desks in the same cubicle, our backs facing each other every day, only a gray half wall surrounding us.

He didn’t even look up. “No.”

I watched as he continued to write slowly and carefully in his black notebook, paying no mind to the blond hair falling into his face.

The phone was still ringing.

“Fine.” I pushed my rolling chair back and reached across him to pick up his phone. “You’ve reached Hunter Adrian’s office. He’s way too busy to take your call because he doesn’t find you as important as Max Daisy does. You can call her at extension 9412.”

I slammed the phone back into the receiver before rolling my chair back.

“Well done,” Hunter said. His blue button down was rolled up to his forearms. Whenever he had his shirt like that, I had to force my eyes not to stray. He carefully crossed them over his chest. “Sounds like you just stole one of my clients.”

“Well, if you’re not going to take their calls.” I turned toward my desk, trying to calm my beating heart.

“Aren’t you at least a little bit curious about who your new client is?” he pressed. I envisioned the purse of his lips, the dip in his brow—the face he always made when he was upset with me.

“I’m sure I’ll find out soon enough,” I said over my shoulder. I straightened my keyboard in front of me and pretended to type, my fingers bouncing lightly off the keys.

“Alright,” he said. I heard his chair roll and the scratch of his pencil. “When my mom calls, tell her I said hello.”

I paused. “Your mom?”

“Great job, Maxine. You’ve secured Durgis Agency’s newest client.”

I whipped around, my chair spinning a little too out of control. I had to use my foot to stop myself from going all the way around.

“Why aren’t you answering your mom’s calls?”

“Why aren’t you focusing on your own work?”

“When your mom calls me, I’m going to tell her how horrible you are, and she’ll make you move back home. You’ll be destined to live forever in her basement.”

“Tell her I’ll be late to dinner on Tuesday.” He didn’t even turn around.

—Excerpt fromUntitledby Rosie Maxwell and Aiden Huntington

CHAPTER SIX

“Just so you know,” Aiden said as soon as I answered the phone, “I’d take my mother’s calls.”

“Sure, sure.” I balanced my phone between my shoulder and ear as I bent over my knee, carefully dragging the brush across my toenails, making them bright red. We’d graduated from texting to phone calls over the past couple of months of working on the book together. It had started when he tried to get Maxine fired from her job and enter a period of depression, and I couldn’t help but call him on the phone and yell at him. “Just like you look up from that notebook when I say something to you.”

It annoyed me all last semester how he refused to make eye contact with me whenever I spoke. I’d say anything, and he’d start writing in his stupid notebook; when I gave critiques, he’d do the same.

Aiden cursed under his breath. There was a low, steady stream of noise behind him. “Where are you?” I asked, sitting up. Then I heard the music and could practically feel the bass through the phone. After a few more curses from Aiden, the sound started to fade. “Are you at a party? Were you reading my chapter at a party?”

“No, of course not,” he said sharply. He must’ve been able to tell from my silence that I didn’t believe him. He sighed, relenting. “It’s my cousin’s middle school dance.”

I spluttered a laugh. “Please tell me everything.”

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