Page 59 of Not in My Book

“Nothing.”

“So prove it.”

He scowled. “I don’t have to prove anything to you.”

I rushed him then, and his eyes widened in surprise. He tried to sidestep, but he ended up bumping into an endcap bookshelf. With his back pressed against it, I pulled his arm in front of him.

Aiden Huntington was holding a romance novel.

“Oh my God.”

“Shut up.”

“Oh my God.”

“I said shut up.” He snatched his hand away from my grip and held the book to his chest. “It’s for my cousin.”

“Your cousin in middle school?”

“Yes,” he said defensively.

I unfolded his arms from his chest. “Wow, your preteen cousin must be very mature to be reading whatThe New York Timescalled ‘Extremely sexy.’ ”

“I’m leaving.” He brushed past me, out of the aisle.

“No!” I rushed after him and moved to block his path. “I was just teasing. I think guysshouldread more romance novels, and I don’t think they should be made fun of it for it because it really isn’t a gendered genre like people make it seem and—”

“How’d you know I was here?” he cut me off.

I blinked. “I didn’t. But now that I’m here, I can help you pick out a book you’ll actually like.”

“What’s wrong with this one?”

“Nothing. I really love that one, but you’d hate it, honestly.”

His eyes narrowed at me. “Aren’t you supposed to be writing?”

I glanced at him over my shoulder as I scanned the romance section. This area of the store really wastiny,barely taking up a fourth of the wall. I had spoken to a bookseller about expanding it because they apparently didn’t see how lucrative of a market the romance genre was, but they’djust nodded absently and walked away. “Look, you’ll need to write the kiss scene in your chapter first, so I can continue with the story.”

“We have to submit it for classtomorrow, Rosalinda.”

“Details, details,” I tsked. “Their selection is lacking, but we can work with this.” I grabbed one of the nearby ladders and climbed to the top. I pulled books from the shelves, handing them down to Aiden, explaining the plot of each as I did so.

“You know”—Aiden looked up at me from the side of the ladder facing me—“I was planning on maybe getting one book.”

I crinkled my nose. “That’s pure nonsense. You’re going to need these andobviouslya Christina Lauren.”

“What the hell is a Christina Lauren?”

I moved down the ladder and handed him a copy of one of their books. “They’re a lot like us, you know. They’re a best-friend writing duo. One is Christina and the other is Lauren.”

His eyes softened, and he smiled down at me. “Okay. I’ll read one by them. But I don’t think I need all of these.”

He gestured to the stack I had placed in his arms, reaching from his waist to his chest. I couldn’t help zeroing in on his biceps. My gaze traveled up his arms and for some reason my eyes snagged on hisneckof all things. Sure, shoulders and backs were attractive, but Jesus fucking Christ, I couldn’t stop staring at the slope of his neck.

I cleared my throat. “You’re right. Let’s refine this stack to only the best.”

We ended up staying in the romance aisle for almost an hour. I kept picking up books and explaining their tropes and basic plots. He flipped through each one, then he’d either shake his head and push it back on the shelf or add it to the pile.

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