Page 12 of The Best Book Boyfriend
I get ready for bed and wonder for ages about what to write back to her, but everything I type sounds ridiculous. And now I’m self-conscious that she can see that I’m typing and then not typing, typing, then not typing.
I’m not cut out for texting and flirting in the modern age. I don’t want to look rude, but I also don’t want to make her feel more awkward. It’s probably best to sleep on it and hope the right reply will come to me in the morning.
Luke and Kara. Kara and Luke. The last thing I remember thinking as I fall asleep.
We had a bit of a lull after the school mums left and the co-working group arrived, so I left my trusty assistant Jo in charge and hopped on my bike to the bookshop on the other side of town. In all honesty, I haven’t been in here much because I haven’t exactly been doing a lot of reading lately. I used to read to Heather sometimes, but after she was gone picking up a book wasn’t something I had headspace for. My brain is calmer now, but my social life is hardly jumping, so reading feels like a good way to fill my evenings.
I pull out my phone and reply to Kara’s text with a photo of me in the bookshop holding up a copy ofThe (Mis)Adventures of Becky Baxter.
I’m used to sending selfies now. In my worst times, Rob insisted I send him a photo of myself every day. He wanted to see me and make sure I was OK, and since I wouldn’t let anyone come over, this was our compromise. I was far from OK, but I still sent them and I hope he deleted them because they must be awful. Me on the sofa for the third day in a row. My face red and puffy from crying and not sleeping. From missing her and wishing she’d come back. Me looking gaunt when I was only eating bagels that I couldn’t even be bothered to toast.
I find the book quickly and have a read of the blurb. As excited as I am to text her, this book does not sound like my thing at all. Hot woman meets hot guy and falls in love, The End. It’s a fantasy. Who honestly wants to read about this stuff? Still, I’ve made a promise, and I want to be a man of my word.
Luke:They only have this one, so I’ll order the other two. Lovely to meet you too. Hopefully I’ll see you again soon.
I thought about what I’d say all morning and I think this is the best approach. Keen, but casual. I’ve no sooner hopped back on my bike when I hear theding!of her reply and quickly scoot up onto the pavement to stop and read it.
Kara:Wow. I’m impressed. You’re an excellent pupil.
She replied! And she’s flirting. Or is she? It definitely feels like she’s flirting. I feel a bit sick. Is this a good feeling or a bad feeling? I can’t tell. She’s Kara, the queen of romance novels, and I, her ever willing student, have impressed her.
For God’s sake, now I’m thinking about her as a hot teacher. I wonder if she’s got any recommendations that fit with that fantasy? Actually, scratch that, I’m far too old to entertain the teacher/student thing without being a massive creep.
I didn’t expect such a quick reply and now I’m stuck back in the loop of wondering what to say next. I want to impress her more, so I decide to head back to work and crack on with reading between customers. That way, when I text her, I can say something more profound.
OK, so this Becky Baxter book is hilarious. She’s a motorbike courier with a real attitude and she seems to hate men, which is no surprise since she caught her bastard ex cheating, and every guy since then has been an utter knob. I can’t deny it, I’m invested.
Then she meets Chase, an American tourist who I imagine looks like every generic leading man. He’s in London for a few days after backpacking through Europe and nearly knocks her off her bike when he’s trying to get the hang of an electric scooter. Twat.
He’s offered to buy her a drink to apologise, and I’ve just gotten to the bit where she’s grilling him about the girls he’s slept with on his travels. Rather than getting put off, the exploits of a 22-year-old Californian hunk seem to turn her on and,Jesus Christ, OK, now they’re shagging in the pub toilets in the middle of the afternoon.
Is this normal? Is this what single people do these days? I’m not cut out for this. All I can think of are grubby floors and does the loo roll need to be replaced? I glance around, suddenly self-conscious that Jo might read over my shoulder, but nobody has noticed. I’m seventy pages into this book. I don’t think I’ll be able to keep going if it’s all this dirty.
Pulling my phone from my back pocket, I snap a selfie, making a face that I hope looks a mix of shocked and bashful.
Luke:Um, this feels illegal to be reading in public.
Two ticks. She’s online, and I can see she’s replying already.
Kara:Oh yes, that is quite a spicy one. Should have warned you it might not be a good idea to read at work, sorry!
She’s not wrong. I have to lean over the counter to hide the fact that my jeans are straining and hope nobody will come in and order anything that means I have to reach up high. For most of the afternoon, I’m thinking about getting home and reading more, and I let Jo go a little early so I can close up fast. Normally we end up chatting for ages, which I enjoy, but I’m desperate to know what’s going to happen with Becky and Chase.
When I get in, I open a beer and lie on the sofa, pulling a blanket across me. I’ve seen people in support groups talk about reading as an act of rest and self-care, and this definitely feels like a good way to spend the rest of my evening. After making it through a chapter that is pure filth, I pick up my phone to reply to Kara’s last message, but decide a selfie might not be wise in case I look like a sweaty hornbag. I mean, Iama sweaty hornbag right now. There’d be no hiding it.
Luke:You weren’t lying. I’ve just read the bit where they’re at the back of the open-topped bus.
Kara:Such a good scene.
Luke:I will never be able to go on a bus again.
Kara:I’m the opposite. That book made me love getting the bus.
What the hell does that mean?I keep reading, turning the lamp beside the sofa on when I realise it’s dark and I’m squinting. It’s almost midnight when I finally finish the book, and I really want to talk to her about it, but she’s probably sleeping already. I think it might be rude to text this late. Instead, I head to bed and as soon as I hit the pillow I realise I’m ending the day feeling more happy than sad. This definitely calls for a selfie to Rob.
Luke:Love you x
Sunshine Coffee has been packed all morning. There are a few faces I’ve not seen before and I force myself to take the time to introduce myself and make them feel welcome. On tough days I sometimes still have a little wobble chatting to new people, but if I want this place to be a success, I can’t be a grumpy prick who hides behind the counter all day. My grief group were right though, it gets easier the more often you do it and I’ve been chatting so much that it’s almost lunchtime by the time I get a minute to text Kara.
