Page 9 of Years in the Making

“Well, that’s probably a better way to go.” He chuckles and takes a sip of his coffee, his eyes flicking up to meet mine. The contrast between his pale blue eyes and his dark hair is utterly captivating.

“So what book do you want to pick up?” I ask, turning my attention back to my latte.

“The one I’m reading, actually.” I look back up at him, confused. “I fell asleep with it last night, and it no longer meets my sister’s exacting standards.”

“Ah, she’s one of those.” I nod in understanding.

“One of what?”

“A reader that likes their books markless in every way. Someone who wants their books to appear like they’ve never been read.”

“Yes, I guess that is the kind of reader she is.”

“And what kind of reader are you?”

He shrugs. “The kind that borrows books without asking and then falls asleep with them.” I can almost picture him falling asleep mid-chapter, those icy blue eyes growing heavier with each word, the book eventually falling from his grasp. I wonder what he sleeps in. He seems like a boxers and nothing else kind of guy.

He’s giving me a strange look, probably because I’ve been staring at him thinking about him falling asleep in boxers. “Scandalous,” I tease.

“Truly,” he agrees. “So are we going to exchange names or just stick with these fun little nicknames?”

I desperately want to know his name, but I also really like the nicknames. “Nicknames for now, I think.” He nods just as the cafe’s owner walks in and sees me.

“Nellie! Home for the summer?”

EG immediately bursts out laughing.

I glare at him before turning my attention to Mr. Wilson. “I got home Tuesday night.”

“Excellent! I’ll let you get back to your…”—his eyes slide to EG— “morning.”

As soon as he walks away, EG says, “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen something so perfectly timed in my entire life.”

“Okay, so I guess real names it is.”

He shakes his head. “Nah, I like you calling me EG.”

It’s almost flirty the way he says it, or maybe I just want it to be a little flirty. “I like you calling me LG.” I pout.

Enviro Guy is making the kind of eye contact you make when you want someone to know you’re the only one they care about in a room. “I’ll still call you LG. No one else calls you that, right?” Okay, thatdefinitelysounds flirty. I should be mad that he would do that after I told him I have a boyfriend—who doesn’t exist—but still, it’s the principle. And yet I’m ridiculously happy that this nice, attractive, intelligent guy seems happy about a nickname only he gets to use.

“Just you.” I smile into my drink and break eye contact as my face begins to heat. “So you have a sister?” I pull myself together and decide to start getting to know this guy who I want flirting with me.

“A twin sister, actually. I’ve got an older brother as well. You?”

“I have an older sister. She lives in the Philippines with her husband. She’s quite a bit older so I grew up feeling a bit like a spoiled only child.”

“Why do I feel like you aren’t spoiled at all?”

“Oh, I am. I’ve never been a brat, though, so maybe that’s why.”

He’s looking at me as if scanning for signs of brattiness. “No, definitely not a brat.” And now we’re just sort of smiling at each other and I’m beginning to panic. The last time I panicked around him I told him I had a boyfriend, and I’m worried about what might come out next.

“So why does your sister live in the Philippines?” he asks,finally breaking contact to look down into his cup and saving me from spewing some new deception.

“Her husband is a researcher at an endangered bird organization.”

His eyes widen. “More bird people.”

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