Page 89 of Trip Me Up

32

SAM

Ninety minutes.

I checked my phone. By now, I’d gotten good at guessing how long the signing part would take from a quick estimate of the number of attendees. My last ninety minutes of breathing the same air as Niall. Of brushing his hand accidentally-on-purpose as we reached for the stack of books between us. Of sucking into my lungs that woodsy scent he carried with him everywhere.

Ninety minutes of the happiness I felt when he was near.

We stepped down from the makeshift stage to the table, our movements a well-rehearsed ballet. As I lowered myself into my chair, the one on the right so Niall and I wouldn’t bump arms as we signed, I rubbed my hand against the center of my chest, right above where it twinged.

When Niall turned his head toward me, something I felt more than saw, my body ached to swivel to him. My lips twitched to curve up and exchange a smile with him the way we’d been doing for the past week. I yearned to lean into him, to let him whisper one of his encouragements into my ear.

Instead, I dropped my hand to the table and straightened. Mother’s training, such a failure for what she wanted me to be, would save me. I’d smile and chat with the readers and pretend I belonged for one more night. Then, in eighty-eight minutes, I’d escape. I’d return to the isolation of my apartment. The next day, I’d be back in my office at the university. I’d be a computer scientist again. I wouldn’t have to lie anymore.

His freckled arm brushed mine. “You okay?” he whispered as the store’s staff organized the readers into lines.

“Sure,” I lied. It was second-nature now.

“I didn’t even ask. Have you been here before? To this store?”

I rolled my shoulders. Small talk was easy. Maybe I could get through the night without a hard conversation. Maybe shutting down every one of Niall’s hints really had worked, and he was ready to end things. Just like I wanted.

“I have.” I glanced over the queuing readers. “It’s not far from the university. Sometimes I buy books here for my nephew.” I could walk to my apartment from the store. I could steep myself in the city’s fog and let it steam away all the lies like wrinkles from a silk gown.

But not yet. The first person stepped up to my side of the table, and I pasted on my smile, grabbed my acid-green Sharpie, and got to work.

The crowd had started to thin when a too-familiar pair of figures stepped up to the table. “Samwise.”

“Aunt Sam!” Noah slouched like he could hide his initial burst of excitement. Had I tried that hard to act aloof when I was twelve? Probably.

I stood. “Holy shit, have you grown again?” I hugged him, his twelve-year-old pride be damned.

I stood on tiptoes to kiss my brother’s cheek. “What are you guys doing here?”

“We meant to be here for the start,” Jackson said, ducking his head. “But there was a, ah, Valentine mishap.” He scrunched his nose. “I wasn’t prepared for how much fluid a baby that small can eject.”

“You don’t remember when I was a baby? Or Nat?”

He shrugged. “I left you guys to the nannies until you got more interesting. Though Nat still isn’t interesting. Don’t tell your grandmother—or your Aunt Natalie—I said that,” he added for Noah’s benefit.

Noah’s eyebrows, the color of wet sand, scrunched down. “Aunt Sam, you didn’t tell me you wrote the book.”

I felt Niall’s attention arrow to us. “No, Noah, I didn’t. There were some reasons why I needed to keep it a secret. But I’ll tell you about it as soon as I can.”

“This weekend? Jay says you’ll probably come over. To see the baby.”

“Of course I’ll come over. To see all of you.” I wanted to reach out, ruffle his too-long sandy hair. But he looked like he’d block me if I reached for him.Twelve.

Jackson plucked the book out of Noah’s hand. “Then we’ll get you to sign this over the weekend.” He raised his dark eyebrows at me. A threat. In exchange for a promise.

“But”—my brother looked past me—“we won’t be seeing Mr. Flynn this weekend, will we?”

“No,” I said, not turning to look back at him. “Niall has to go home. To write. At the farm. But you should get a copy of his book. It’s the most amazing story you’ll ever read. Actually, buy both. You’ll want to readSecretsfirst. ThenTreachery.He’ll sign it for you. Both. He’ll sign both. Right, Niall?” I didn’t pause for his answer. “Noah, did you know they’re making a TV show of his books? Two seasons.” I named one of the actors, someone he’d know from his superhero movie obsession.

I kept my gaze locked on my brother’s.Don’t say a word.

His mouth tightened.We’ll have words this weekend.

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