Page 36 of With Stars in Her Eyes
“Not going to lie, I was hoping for gay covers like these.” I pulled out a cover with a ripped, shirtless man holding the waist of a windswept woman in an off-the-shoulder purple gown. “But with twice the breasts and no bulges. Bulges are fine, but I really liked the book I read last night.”
“You like the clinch covers. They’re definitely a classic for a reason.”
“Thewhatcovers?” My brain tried to process the sentence, but it was difficult to understand the words coming out of Courtney’s mouth while processing the mortification of having just uttered the phrasetwice the breastsin public.
“Clinch. Like—um…” Courtney’s hand reached toward my waist, but it stopped centimeters away. “Sorry.”
I nodded at Courtney’s hand with an inviting smile.
“So yeah… like this.” Courtney pressed her palm to my back, her fingers tangling in my long, wild hair. With a splayed grip on my hipbone, she pulled my body tight to hers at an angle. My hand reflexively rested on the space right beneath Courtney’s collarbone as if we were about to dance. “C-l-i-n-c-h-e-d. Like clinched together.”
“Clinch. Oh…I thought that was what you said, but then my mind thought maybe it wasclench,which doesn’t really make sense. I got it now.” My head dipped for a second before realizing exactly where that put my eyes.
My face snapped back up to Courtney’s, and her mouth was so much closer than I expected it to be. The smallest movements would turn this moment into a kiss.
Seconds of silence passed, and Courtney’s lips parted.
I was half a breath away from leaning forward. But the wordstoo much too soonechoed in my head. The jingling of the bellabove the bookstore door startled me enough that I took two long steps out of her arms, immediately regretting it.
When I looked back at Courtney, there was nothing in her expression that acknowledged how close we had been to a kiss. Maybe to Courtney it just seemed like I was deliberately being an idiot about the word in order to get her to hold me like she’d just saved me from being ravished or something.
Unfortunately, the idea of having Courtney ravish me occupied every last one of my brain cells at the moment.
I fiddled with a loose earring while trying to form a coherent thought. “I seriously don’t know why I thought you meant something about the way the fabric was in the dresses, sort of clenched—or scrunched—in his hand. Or if it was a jaw thing. This makes a lot more sense. Thanks for the explanation.” All those words came out way too quickly. It wasn’t like me to be as ruffled as the gauzy fabric on the covers.
“It’s just some niche romance lingo.”
“I should probably just get a glossary rather than make my friendly neighborhood bookseller be the Fabio to my swooning debutante.” I placed the back of my hand on my forehead and tipped backward dramatically.
Courtney’s mouth quirked to the side. “Are you saying I wasn’t as good at clinching as Fabio?”
“No. Of course not.”
“It’s the pixie cut, right? I’d need to grow out the luscious locks again.” Courtney swept a swath of imaginary hair over her shoulder. “It used to be down to my waist before I chopped it off this winter if you can believe that.”
“No. Your hair’s great as a pixie. Really hot actually. It’s not…” I squinted at her. “You’re just fucking with me, aren’t you?”
“Yep.”
I grabbed the books from Courtney and clutched (not clinched) them to my chest to protect myself from saying anything else dumb. I would wish for a gag, but after reading that book last night, I probably didn’t need to give myself any ideas that might make mehornier while standing this close to Courtney. Courtney’s quiet, raspy voice seemed to drag over my skin even in the memories of our conversations. I headed to the register and dropped the stack on the counter.
After Courtney scanned the books, she loaded them into a bag. “You know… I have some gay romance books I can loan you. Some even have clinch covers to rival Fabio’s finest. Sam used to send me books when I was touring, and I kept my favorites. Probably wouldn’t shock you that the gay ones were my favorites…”
I slipped the bag onto my arm and leaned forward on the counter. “Isn’t loaning me books a conflict of interest to being a bookseller?”
“I think between the bookshop snowstorm sleepover, the groping animal encounters, and the impromptu clinching, you can… you can just call me a friend at least at this point.” Courtney’s teeth sank into her bottom lip.
My gaze homed in on the tiny movement before shifting back to meet Courtney’s eyes.
“If you’re in the market.” She didn’t look away. “For a friend, that is.”
I nodded. “I definitely am.”
“Oh… this might be an overstepping question…” Courtney trailed off, focus on the corner again.
“You just said animal groping plus clinching in the stacks equals friendship. You can ask whatever.”
“I guess I did.” She shifted her weight. “Was everything okay with Marshall and you yesterday? There was a moment where he… and you seemed a little worried, maybe?”
