Page 3 of Not in My Book

“What’s the rush, Rosalinda?”

I jumped at the sound of Aiden’s voice. He was nearly a foot taller than I was, but still found a way to creep up on me.

“I’m trying to find the nearest bathroom. Your cologne makes me want to puke,” I said sweetly. Some guy pushed between us, walking in the opposite direction, shoving my shoulder in the process. He nearly knocked me over, but Aiden placed a firm hand on the small of my back, steadying me.

“Just so you know, it’s Italian,” he said, raising his chin. He had pulled a black sweater on, and it made him look so fall and cozy. I quickly pushed the thought from my mind.

“Just so you know, that’s pretentious.”

We finally made it to Union Square and walked together down the stairs that sat at the edge of the park. My brows furrowed as we tapped our phones on the turnstiles. I took this train every Monday and Wednesday after class and notoncehad I seen Aiden here. I glanced at him from the corner of my eye as he walked down the stairs alongside me. Surely if he was going to murder me, he wouldn’t do it in public. Right?

He stood next to me on the platform, waiting for the train. I looked between him and the empty train tracks and took a step back behind one of the poles. Just in case.

We stood in silence, the low rumbles of nearby trains surrounding us. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I turned to him, suspicious.

“Are you stalking me?” I asked. I placed my hands on my hips, trying my best to look intimidating even though I had to crane my neck to meet his eyes.

He looked down at me briefly, amused. “Who’s to sayyou’renot stalkingme?”

“Do you even take the 6?” I asked suspiciously. “I’ve never seen you here after class.”

He spared me another glance. “No.”

“See? You’re stalking me.”

The train rushed past us, the wind from it causing my hair to fall in front of my face. Over the noise of the train, Aiden leaned down until he was eye level with me, smirking.

“This is the L.”

“Do you always have to be this annoying?” I drawled. “Don’t you ever get tired of it?”

She narrowed her eyes at me. If she got any angrier, I’d expect fumes to sprout from her ears.

Her hands curled into fists at her sides. Maybe if she were taller, I’d be intimidated. But it was a little adorable.

“Do you always have to be such an asshole?”

I paused, pretending to consider the question. “Yes. I do.”

— Excerpt fromUntitledby Rosie Maxwell and Aiden Huntington

CHAPTER TWO

“I know I’m late, I’m sorry.” I stuck my head in the office after I clocked in. “I took the wrong train, and then I got lost, and I still had to change.”

“It’s okay, Rosie, it’s only a few minutes.” My boss, Luke, didn’t even look up from his desk. He waved his hand dismissively and said, “Bar’s empty anyways. Just go start your shift now.”

I’d moved to New York City on a whim. My town in Tennessee, Rogersville, had fewer than five thousand people, so New York City was an entirely newworld. This month marked my first full year in New York, and it was tougher than I’d ever expected. There was no Southern hospitality as my safety net, and I’d learned quickly I had to harden my doe-eyed view of life. I finally felt like I was adjusting and finding my place in the city, as hard it was.

“Running a little late, huh?” Alexa leaned over the other side of the bar. Her dark brown bob swayed around her face as she grinned at me.

“Aiden,” I explained as I tied the small white apron around my waist. “He distracted me as we were walking out of class, and I ended up at the L platform instead of the 6.”

“¿Cómo te distrajo?” Alexa wagged her eyebrows at me.

“Shut up, you know that’s not how it is.” I rolled my eyes, turning toward the wall of different bottles of liquor and glasses to make her aShirley Temple like I did at the start of every shift. Alexa wasn’t a romantic. She believed in good sex the way I believed in true love. And she thought hate-sex was the best kind.

“If he’s as hot as you say he is—”