Page 14 of With Stars in Her Eyes
Maybe it was the number of times we had said the wordclitorisin the bookshop.
“So do you need to check me out?” Her pink cheeks darkened to a fire-engine red. She took several steps away and rummaged in her bag.
“Check you…”
Courtney held up her wallet.
“Oh right. Got it.”
She followed me to the register and paid as if nothing had passed between us other than stainless steel, plastic, and isopropyl alcohol. She left with an offhand wave that had me second-guessing the subtext of that entire conversation.
Maybe I had imagined the implied orgasm reference. How much discussion of sex was normal with someone after spending only nineteen minutes with them at most? Maybe I was just sexually frustrated after spending the last two weeks watching crappy reality television andSportsCenterwith my platonic best friend. Initiating a fling with the bookseller next door would be a disaster. I’d break all the rules that had kept my heart so much safer the last few years. It wasexactlythe kind of impulsivity my family expected too. I was here tobreakpatterns.
ButJesus, Mary, Josephine Bonaparte, I needed an extra-large, ice-cold sweet tea and an extra-long date with my vibrator tonight. Even though it was ten degrees outside, my skin was boiling, and if I was honest, my underwear needed to dry out. I pulled my denim shirt sleeves down to cover the place Courtney’s breath had grazed my skin.
This would not happen. I had probably just imagined that flirting anyway.
CHAPTER 4Courtney
The bookshop door slammed behind me, and I leaned on the counter with my chest heaving. Sam popped up just as Billy Gibbons had a few hours earlier. I didn’t scream like Thea, but I did hop backward before mustering up a bland expression.
“How’d it go?”
“Fine. Completely fine.” I pointed to my ear. “Got a new hole in my body. Check.”
“That’s an interesting way to put it. You seem flustered.” Sam’s shrewd, steely eyes appraised me. “What happened?”
“Nothing. Just don’t like needles.” I scanned the room for a task. “Where’s that last—”
“I got all the boxes unloaded and broken down.AndI got the sales rep to assure me that the rest of the preorders would be here in time for the new release party on Monday.” Sam walked closer. “Hmm…”
“Stop looking at me like that. My migraine is better than earlier. I’m fit as a fiddle.”
“Who saysfit as a fiddleanymore?”
“I do.”
“Since when?”
“Since now.” My attempt at a grin might have looked more like a grimace.
“If we’re going to talk about your emotional and physical state using dated, music-related idioms, then why are you so keyed up—?”
“Probably just having a side effect from that new med the neurologist put me on.”
“What side effect?”
“My heart keeps racing. A little bit of nausea. Hot flash. Throat constricted when I’m trying to talk, but I’m talking way more in front of random people than usual too. Maybe I should let my doctor know.” The sticker display next to the counter was a disaster.Exactlythe type of task I needed now.
Sam clicked her tongue. “When did these mysterious symptoms begin?”
I sorted the stickers into neat stacks. “Uh… earlier?”
“As in right after book club when I was on the phone?”
“I guess so.”
“And these mysterious symptoms are worse right now?”
