Page 36 of Bookworm

The sky falling.

Me kissing Bo.

"You two okay down there?" Casey asked, and as I looked up, I saw she and Natalia standing there with surprised looks on their faces. "If you're busy, we can come back later."

Correction: surprised and smug.

Fantastic.Casey and Natalia would obviously want details.I barely understood what'd just happened. How the heck was I going to explain this to anyone else? At least, Bo was okay. I hoped.

The look he was giving me was a little less irritable than usual.

Oh bother.

Maybe I'd hit him harder than I thought.

CHAPTER 7

Sometimes words weren't enough.

This was definitely one of those times. Accidentally hitting someone with a book (that turned out to be amazing by the way, a total knockout—no pun intended) and falling in a heapon top of them, required a bit more. Though I'd apologized to Bo, I woke up early the next morning to take him a gift, an olive branch if you will, in the form of muffins.

With a side of Twizzlers.

As well as a small bag of peanut M & Ms.

And ginger ale.

Oh, and I also included a hand-made card.

They were all things I loved. I even added a couple of my favorite romance books, knowing how much he seemed to enjoy them if the ones he checked out at the library were anything to go by.

Plus, though he'd said he was fine, I wanted to make sure everything was okay.

I got up early, so I wouldn't risk missing him.Walking over to his house, I rang the Strykers'doorbell at 6:30 AM.

Bo usually did his workout at 6:45, so I figured he'd be up.

Eyes down, I was checking the basket I'd made for him a final time when the door opened.

When I looked up, there was a woman silently staring back at me. Her hair was pulled back in a tight, no-nonsense bun, a few gray strandsthreaded throughoutthe black. Wrinkles lined her light tan skin, and her dark, seriouseyes seemed to miss nothing. Theytook in my hair which was down, my smiling face, the clothes I was wearing—including my plaid blue-and-green cardigan, light blue tee, jeans, and chucks—before finally landing on the basketin my hand. Thesides of her mouth dipped in a scowl.

The older woman was small, maybe five feet, but she was unnerving.

I'd opened my mouth, but before I could say anything, she shut the door.

Well then.

Gathering my courage, I leaned forward and knocked lightly.

When the door swung open again, her eyes met mine.

"Nuguseyo?" she said.

My smile widened. I knew one day watching all those K-dramas would finally pay off.

"Annyeong haseyo," I said. "I don't really speak Korean, but I think you just asked who I am. My name's Charlotte, and I live next door. You can callme Charlotte or Lottie or Lotte—whichever you'd prefer."

"That's a lot of names for one person," the woman said still scowling.

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