Page 64 of Love Me Like It's Real
An edition ofPride and PrejudiceI’ve not seen before. It’s got an illustrated cover of flowers composed around the ornamental typography and I can’t resist. I have to buy it. I’m a cover designer after all. I love a good cover, especially for a classic I adore.
I sit at the table and leaf through the book as the girls whip their dolls out and go to play with them on the bookstore side when Caspian stops at the table to clear it and he raises an eyebrow.
“Are you buying that?”
“Oh my God. Yes. Of course.” I sit up and Caspian laughs.
“I’m just kidding. Do you likePride and Prejudice?”
“I love it. It’s like the first genre romance. How can I not?”
Caspian puts his hands on his hips and tilts his head. “I keep forgetting you love romance lately.”
“What?” I ask. “Why?”
“I don’t know. You love romance yet you’re dating this Hayworth guy.” He shrugs.
“Why is that surprising?”
I see his reputation has reached even Caspian’s ears but I guess that was inevitable considering he’s allMaplewood Matterswrites about these days for no apparent reason.
Even I’ve made it into today’s post—the co-conspirator who ruined cooking class. At least they didn’t name me, although considering the favor I did to all those poor couples who signed up to make the most basic of recipes, I would love some of the credit for at least making it entertaining.
“Come on. Everyone knows he’s against love.”
“And?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Just saying. It doesn’t seem likely he’ll fall in love.”
“Who says I want him to?” I smirk.
It’s Caspian’s turn to narrow his eyes. “Then what are you doing with him?”
“What? Is a boy not allowed to eat anymore?” I say and Caspian bursts into laughter.
But I find nothing funny about my statement, nor the way it makes me feel just thinking of being naked with Hayworth again.
NINETEEN
HAYWORTH
“How’s the chicken?”
“Yes,” I answer and tap my phone to wake it up but there are no notifications.
“What’s wrong?” Mom asks.
“Uh-huh. Yeah.” I nod and take a bite of dinner, my eyes peeled to the screen as if I can will it to come to life by sheer persistence alone.
“I’m thinking I should streak across town so I can show everyone what wonderful boobs I’ve got,” Mom says.
I glance at her and smile. “Sounds good!”
“Oh for crying out loud, Hayworth! Are you going to focus on our dinner or are you going to keep playing with that thing as if it’s your pee-pee?”
I put my fork down and raise my eyebrows at Mom. “Do you really think that’s how men play with their pee-pees because if it is it’s no wonder my sperm donor knocked you up. What did he say? Come play ping pong with my balls?”
Mom throws her napkin at me and snorts. “Oh grow up, Hay.”
