Page 34 of Not in My Book

Instead, I said, “There’s a brick door holding open the door to your building.”

She blinked, her lashes long, fanning against her cheek, and said, “Oh, that? My neighbor, Andy, forgets his keys, so he just leaves it there.”

Rage unfurled in my chest until I was suffocated by it.

“You know about this brick?”

“I have a lock. It’s no big deal.”

I narrowed my eyes at her as my mind worked through a million solutions to solve her problems. I couldn’t buy her an apartment, I couldn’t report the building, but I could convince her to move out.

Eloquently as ever, I said, “Maxine, this is ridiculous. Even for you.”

Immediately, her face flushed in anger. I’d meant to come across as kind or caring, like the type of man she deserved. But as always, I got in my own way.

My eyebrows flew up in surprise. Until now, writing as Max and Hunter had always meant throwing insults we wished we could say in person. It had never crossed the boundary into anything more. But … did Aiden really like my smile that much?

I had figured his comments on the brick were because he was entitled. That he looked down on me for being poor. Not because he was genuinely worried for my safety. He was probably just turning it up for the chapter. Maybe he was better at romance that I had anticipated.

“Let’s just go.” She brushed past me into the tiny hallway, and I had no choice but to follow. After she sent me her address, I did some research on nice restaurants in her area. I wanted to go to a place she would actually like. Or somewhere she’d never treat herself to.

Once we neared the restaurant after an intensely awkward walk over, she asked, “How’d you manage to get us a reservation here?”

I shrugged. “I pulled a few strings.”

Meaning, I’d called my father and promised to have dinner with him soon if he could get us a reservation here. He liked to catch up with me precisely once a year, and he liked to spend that hour and a half berating my life choices. He ensured that I knew he was disappointed and wasting my life. But I’d trade the most excruciating dinners with him for just a few hours with her. If I could keep my foot out of my own damn mouth.

My heart was pounding. He had copied this evening almost verbatim, but the romantic in me couldn’t tell the difference between the lines of reality and fiction.

He was still on the doc when I reached the end of the chapter, and he was still on the doc when I started to write:

Hunter brought me to a blissful Italian restaurant. I had passed this place a million times before. During spring, when it was barely warm enough for people to sit outside, I’d linger on the sidewalks as whiffs of fresh basil and pasta filled the street. When we walked in, the music immediately captured me just as much as the mouthwatering aromas. I was annoyed with Hunter for what he’d said at my apartment, but even though I would never admit it to him, I was looking forward to tonight.

I paused, considering my next words.

Besides, I’m sure I’d misinterpreted his words. He was probably being nice and I was being the asshole by getting mad on a whim.

Almost immediately after I typed that last line, the chat box appeared on the side with a notification.

Aiden:Rosalinda.

Rosie:what?? it’s the truth!

I couldn’t take my eye off Aiden’s icon in the corner as I wrote. I closed my eyes, and I could see the same intense look he gave me every session of workshop. Doubt blossomed.

Rosie:you’re making me nervous

Aiden:How so?

Rosie:you’re just watching me write. i feel shy

Aiden:Pretend I’m not here.

An idea popped in my head, and before I could stop myself, I quickly typed to him.

Rosie:or you could write it with me

I sucked in a breath, gnawing on my bottom lip as I watched the bubbles of the chat appear and disappear.

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