Page 67 of Not in My Book

Rosie:im not

Rosie:we like kinda made out

Jess:call me now

When I called, I told her every single detail. The way we wrote the kiss scene until we kissed. The way his lips felt against mine, his fingers sinking into my hips. The way I ran out.

“Wait, so was this agoodkiss?”

I sat back against my headboard, groaning. “That’s the worst part. It was hands down the best kiss of my life.”

“Noway.So why’d you run out? I don’t get it.”

“Because it’sAiden.”

“Right.”

“Like, it’sAiden.”

Jess laughed softly. “It’s Aiden who you haven’t been able to stop talking about all year. Aiden who you allowed to become your friend without so much as an apology for how he treated you.”

“I was mean to him, too,” I said defensively.

“Aiden who you protect without a second thought.”

“It’s too complicated. Right?”

Jess sighed heavily. “I don’t know, honestly. If he was just in the workshop, you know I’d say go for it the way you would tell me to with Tyler.”

“But?” I prompted.

“But you two are writing a book together. It could get messy and complicated and put you in bad graces with Ida if this doesn’t work out. You’re already walking a thin line. What happens if you hook up, break up, and go back to fighting? She’ll dismiss you both from class if you cross the line again.”

I groaned again, smacking my head lightly against the headboard. “You’re right. He’s just so hot. I couldn’t help it.”

“It’ll be okay. Just spend as little time with him as possible going forward.”

“I can’t do that,” I moaned. “We’re writing the romantic parts of our novel now. We have to write these mushy romantic scenes together—” I cut off when I realized the other end of the line had gone silent. “Jess?”

“I’m trying not to laugh.” Her voice was wobbly. “You’re fucked Rosie, good luck.”

Later that afternoon as I approached the Writer’s House, Aiden was leaning against the gate, holding two coffees. One iced, the other hot. His head was bent, chin pressed to his chest, and he was wearing his eternal scowl.

“Hey,” I said once I got near him. His head snapped up and his face transformed from one of deep thought to deep concern.

“Hey.” He straightened, looking down at me. He looked like he was afraid to say anything. Instead, he shoved the iced coffee toward me. “Vanilla latte with almond milk.”

I nearly melted at the fact that he’d gotten my coffee order right, but I had to set the record straight with him. I took the cup from him, giving him a small grateful smile. “Thank you.”

We went quiet again, looking anywhere but at each other.

Before we were friends, the hatred looming between us was a dark cloud that made every word we said venomous. But now there was something else. It wasn’t dark, but it wasn’t clear either. It hung in the air, daring one of us to speak and blow it away.

“Rosie, look, I’m really sorry about last night. I know it was late and you were tired, and I didn’t mean to take advantage—”

“You didn’t takeadvantageof me.” I blanched, semimortified.

“Then I didn’t mean to take it too far too fast, if you’re not—”

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