Page 39 of The Luck of Finding You
“You okay?” I probably shouldn’t bring up steamy books while we’re eating.
She waves a hand. “Just—swallowed—water—wrong,” she says through a coughing fit. When she recovers, she asks, “How are you liking that one?”
“It’s interesting.” To say the least. I know romance novels get a bad rep, but so many of them are actually really well written. More people should read them. More men should read them. I don’t tell any of this to Tally though, she knows my opinions on them.
“That’s one word for it.” She grabs another taco, and we eat in silence until there’s one taco left. “It’s all yours, Jones.” She motions for me to take it.
I raise an eyebrow. “Jones, eh?”
“Trying it out,” she says with a nod. “People call each other by their last names all the time. Nicknames are fun.”
Does that mean she wants a nickname? I could call her Book Girl again, just to see what happens. But I’m not sure I trust myself enough for that.
“True.” I grimace. “But my dad was always the guy they called Jones, and I don’t want to be associated with him in that way. I have his name, but I don’t like to be called by it.”
“Oh,” Tally says. “Then we’ll have to come up with a different nickname.”
Ah. Looks like she’s going to blow right past the opening I just gave her. A natural flow to the conversation, where I could have told her all about my scumbag of a father who’s out living his “best life,” pretending he didn’t break my mother’s heart and leave two small children behind to do whatever the heck it is he does. But she brushes past it. The more time I spend with her, the more I realize Tally is not one to talk about the hard stuff.
“You can always call me handsome.” I wink at her, trying to go with her lighthearted mood. I may be the happy-go-luckiest guy in any room, but I also like to get into the deep stuff. I always have. I don’t want to shy away from the hard things.
Tally laughs. “Hmm, handsome isn’t a nickname I’d give you.”
“Rude,” I say, and I watch as a blush crawls up her neck.
“I’ll think of something.” Then we both fall quiet. I’m not quite ready for her to leave because I like spending time with her. As scary as that is, I want to spend time with her. I also don’t want her to bolt.
“Want to read for a bit?” I ask, holding up Simone’s book. “I could read aloud. My sister is always telling me I should try being an audiobook reader because of my voice.”
Tally considers this for a minute. “You do have a pretty nice voice. We could read for a bit. Gran is really chatty, so it’ll be a little longer before the house is empty again.”
“All right.” I’m just grateful she said yes. I never know what’s going to happen with Tally. We move over to the couch, where she sits as far away from me as possible. I stretch out and open the book to the chapter she said she was on, then I start to read. We’re about to read the first kiss of the entire series, but if Tally knows that, she doesn’t say anything as I begin to read.
Tally’s breath hitches when I start the scene that I read to myself only an hour before. I try not to let it get to me, but I’m hyperaware of everything she’s doing. How she’s tucked her legs under herself and is holding her arms as close to her body as she can, as if she’s afraid that if she relaxes even a moment, she’ll fall for me.
But would that be such a bad thing?
“Noah?” Tally asks, jarring me out of my thoughts.
“Right. Uh. Sorry,” I say, startled that I let my thoughts carry me away from actually reading for a moment.
When I finish the scene, I notice that the faint blush from earlier is back on Tally’s cheeks and her neck is flushed.
I keep reading and she begins to relax. Her arms fall and she stares at the empty fireplace while I read. She’s wiping away tears when I’ve finished the last page. For a while we just sit in silence. When I realize she’s still crying, I move over to her and put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her to my chest.
She doesn’t pull away. Instead, she simply cries while I hold her.
I’m not one hundred percent sure what’s happening because she keeps so many walls up. The book is emotional, sure, but I don’t know if it’s this emotional. I catch the scent of her strawberry shampoo when she shifts in my arms. I pull her a little closer to me as her breathing evens out. I don’t think she’s asleep, but she’s not crying anymore.
I’m careful not to move, afraid I might scare her away. Eventually, Tally sits up and shifts away from me. I want to pull her back immediately, but I don’t and instead watch as she sinks back into the couch as far away from me as she can be.
“Sorry about that,” is all she says.
“It’s okay.”
“That part always reminds me of my mom. And then being here, in Marsha’s old apartment, without her, it all just kind of hit me.” She’s avoiding my eyes.
“It’s okay,” I say again.
