Page 7 of Roommating

We stand at the same time, and when our arms accidentally brush, I can feel the heat of his skin on mine. I pick up notes of grapefruit wafting from his body. Whatever it is will probably join my Lush Rose Jam body wash in the shower by this time tomorrow. My body flushes with warmth at the thought of Adam in my shower.Ourshower.

“I just need a minute to drop my bag in my room.” I bolt to the bathroom first, cursing at my red cheeks in the mirror, then race to my bedroom, dropping my bag on the floor and flopping backward on my bed.

My bedroom isn’t huge, but there’s decent closet space, and it’s big enough to fit my double bed, pale green eight-drawer dresser,and small white corner desk and chair without being too cramped. The walls were originally painted a neutral beige, which made sense for a guest room, but they’re now a very soft pink that’s just slightly feminine without feeling like a child’s bedroom.

When I’m confident the excess color has left my face, I enter the living room and do a double take.Nothing Like the Moviesgreets me from the top shelf of the revolving bookshelf. Adam and Marcia were out for most of the day, which means he accomplished in a short time what I’d failed to help Marcia do in an entire afternoon. I hear Gabe’s voice in my head again.She won’t need you anymore.

Adam appears at my side. “Most of the work was done already,” he says, making me question if he can read my thoughts.

I turn to him. “Thanks for finishing it.” And I mean it. What’s important is not that Adam swooped in and completed what I couldn’t, but that the bookshelf is finished and stable. Besides, Adam is a guest, unlike me, who lives here permanently. If helping his grandma out around the house makes him feel useful and takes the responsibility temporarily off of my shoulders, what’s there to complain about? I relax a fraction.

His eyes travel around my face. “I hope you don’t mind. I don’t want you to think I’m coming in and taking over all your projects.”

I suck in a breath. How did he know I needed to hear those exact words? My body loosens up the rest of the way. “I was doing a crap job of it, so I definitely don’t mind.”

He gives it a spin. “Do you know what books you’re going to fill it with?”

I grin. “I do.” I also know exactly where I’m taking him on our walk.

When we hit Broadway, Adam points to his left. “Mount Sinai?”

I give him side-eye. “You think I’m taking you to a hospital?”

He pulls the hood of his black jacket over his head. “I just met you, Sabrina. Maybe you’re fascinated by them. AGrey’s Anatomyenthusiast. But fine. No hospital.”

I refused to tell him where we were going when we left the apartment, just that it wasn’t far. His earlier guesses included Whole Foods and a Capital One bank. Either he’s joking or has zero confidence in my tour-guide abilities.

He slows his pace as we approach the corner of Twelfth and Broadway. “The Strand.”

“Ding ding ding!”

He stares up at the red awning and the historic loft-style building where the iconic bookshop is housed. “Can we go in?”

“We sure can. But all these books here?” I gesture at the carts on the sidewalk outside the entrance. “They’re discounted.” Since my budget doesn’t align with my reading addiction, I take most of my books out from the library, but sometimes I get lucky here.

I shiver when a blast of February wind slaps against my face, making me wish I hadn’t left my itchy but warm scarf at home. My black puffer coat and matching purple knit hat and gloves aren’t cutting it today.

“Bargain books can wait. It’s cold.” Adam angles his head toward the entrance. “Let’s go in.”

Inside, it’s packed as usual. Customers hover around the “best of the best” and “modern classic” display tables, and a line ten people deep waits for the register. I observe Adam as he takes it all in with a look of wonder. I can’t hold back a smile. Iknewthe Strand was the right call.

His fingers brush the books on the table in front of us. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“There’s no right or wrong way. I usually go straight to young adult on the second floor.” I point to the staircase to our left.“Graphic novels are there too. And romance. I think the top floor is where the old and rare books are. I never go there unless there’s an event,” I admit with a sheepish shrug.

Adam’s lips quirk. “Do they test you on the layout of famous bookstores in school?”

I giggle. “Don’t I wish! That is research I’d happily do.” We both step back in opposite directions to let someone pass… three someones. Once there’s a break in traffic, I say, “Go wander,” immediately worrying it came across like I’m trying to ditch him. I’m not. But I also don’t want to assume he wants to hang out with me here. It’s not like this is a date, and I’ve known the guy for less than twenty-four hours.

“Okay. I’ll come find you in young adult in a little bit.”

“Should we exchange numbers?” I ask at the same time he says, “Maybe I should get your number.”

“Great minds! We can definitely get lost in this place,” I say.

“For sure. Even without tequila,” he deadpans.

“Or Jell-O shots.”

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