Page 61 of Not in My Book

“No,” he said. “I meant the part about moving money.”

“Oh, I just need to figure out the tax for my books so I can make sure I have enough in my checking.” I pulled out my phone and began crunching the numbers on my calculator. It wasn’t like there was atonof money in my savings. I never seemed to have enough money, but I always found the spare change I needed for books.

“Don’t worry about it.” He pushed my phone away. “I’ve got it.”

He walked stepped in line and I followed quickly after him. “No way. You paid for my coffee—”

“That was just to piss you off.”

“My ice cream, my dinner. I can’t let you pay for all these books too.” The line was moving rapidly and as soon as the bookseller called for the next person in line, Aiden moved toward the counter.

“Fine. Stop me.”

“Fucker,” I muttered. I started furiously typing on my phone as the cashier scanned our books. He had already stuck his card in the machine and as soon as I moved to pull it out, he plucked my own card from my hand. “Hey!”

He held the card above his head and even on my tiptoes, I couldn’t reach him.

“This is ridiculous. We’readults,not in middle school.Give me my card back.”

“Sure,” he said calmly. “In a few minutes.”

I glared up at him, even though I was secretly touched because book buying was basically one of my love languages. Aiden must’ve known how much this meant to me, especially in the midst of my money troubles.

Once Aiden had finished paying, he handed me back my card.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Funny. That doesn’t sound like ‘thank you,’ ” he said teasingly. He grabbed the bags from the cashier and carried them out of the store with me trailing behind.

We started walking, side by side down Broadway. “The Strand was the first place I came on my first day in New York, after I settled into my apartment,” I said. I kicked the pebble in front of me with eachstep, my hands shoved in my pockets to protect them from the cold. “I would spend days there if I could.”

“I used to go there as a kid. My mom took me nearly every day after school.” He cleared his throat, shaking his head. “She’d let me wander up and down the stacks on every floor and let me pick three books. Always three.”

“What was your go-to book as a kid? I know you had a comfort book.” I nudged his shoulder.

“Dear Mr. Henshawby Beverly Cleary.”

I smiled at him. “Mine wasStargirlby Jerry Spinelli.”

“Of course.” He rolled his eyes but was smiling. “Small town girl who’s different and finds love?”

“Boy who falls in love with reading and can’t help but obsess over it.”

“Boy without a dad who writes to his favorite author,” he added quietly. “That’s why I liked it so much. I could always relate to that kid.”

“Soon enough you’ll be Mr. Henshaw to some other kid,” I said.

He smiled at that. “Hopefully.”

“Speaking of,” I said, checking the time on my phone. “I should probably head home to write the kiss scenesomeoneslacked off on. I’m freaking out that we won’t get these chapters done in time.”

“You know,” Aiden said sheepishly. It was the first time I had seen him be anything but positively confident. “I live close by—we could write it together.” My eyes widened, excited and dumbstruck. When I didn’t answer immediately, he said, “Obviously you don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable or don’t want to—”

“No, I do!” I said quickly. “Lead the way.”

He lived in the West Village on Perry Street and Bleecker, a small walk away from the Strand. As we neared his street, I was almost tempted to ask him to keep walking around. Tennessee sunsets were special, but a New York City one hit different. The light would bounce off a skyscraper and land between buildings in a beautiful way. But today I had a new appreciation for them, now that I’d seen the evening light dancing in Aiden’s hair. His eyes. His smile.

I kept waiting for him to lead me into to some fancy apartment building, but when he stopped in front of a brownstone and jogged up the front steps, my jaw dropped. I glanced at the doorbell—there was just one, rather than a series of buzzers like most apartments had.

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