Page 20 of My Book Boyfriend
“Well, hopefully, I’ll see you around.” He shoves his book into his bag and stands.
That was abrupt.
I look to see what happened … right at Rupert, who’s walking toward me.
I raise my eyebrow at Rupert. What the hell? First, he wants to destroy my garden, and now he’s actively foiling my romantic life? I frown at him. But he just smiles—a cocky grin that makes me see red.
I raise my eyebrow at Rupert and turn to Matt, putting my hand on his arm. “What are you reading next?”
Matt looks like a deer caught in headlights.Buck up, dude.I’m not impressed that he’s conceding so quickly to some guy who just glared at him.Hold your ground.
“I’m not sure yet,” he says.
“Lily.” Rupert is right there. I don’t even need the panic in Matt’s eyes to tell me. It’s like a fire heater ignited next to me.
Matt skedaddles out of there. I turn to Rupert. I put my hands on my hips and step closer to him. Iwill notbe intimidated.
That was a mistake.
He smells like fresh pine, and he’s got a very broad, muscular chest, which is currently way, way too close.
I refuse to step back.
I look up at him. “What was that?”
“What?”
He tries to look all innocent, but it’s like a wolf in sheep’s clothing trying to hide that he doesn’t have a fuzzy, white snout with pink nostrils.
“Can I take you out to dinner and Bumper Cars on Ice at Bryant Park some night?” he asks. “It seems like a fun winter date activity.”
“You’re askingmeout?” I ask.
Stupid idiot. Because doubting some guy wants to ask you out is a surefire way to make him doubt he should ask you out.Rephrase that.
“You’reasking me out?”
That does not sound better. He probably already thinks he’s some god, and I just reinforced that.
I close my eyes and wave my hand no. “Are you trying to butter me up so we won’t oppose your taking over our garden?”
The thing is, I’m attractive, but I’m not the type of woman hot mega-developers are lining up to take on dates. I’ve been pursuing Aiden for a year, and I’m still in the Sunday brunch time slot. This is not just suspicious. He’s totally playing with me.
He blinks. “Would that work?”
Depends on the buttering up.“No.”
“I didn’t think so,” he says. “But still, this proposed development is just business. I don’t think it means we have to be enemies. I bid against Rob of Pear Developers all the time, but he’s still one of my closest friends.”
Just business.
No.
“No. This is not just business to me. The garden is not a business. It’s a refuge and a community. There’s no other open-air space like it on the Upper West Side. It’s a space for teenagers to hang out safely. It’s a place for older people to find their friends and—” Tears well in my eyes, and my voice cracks. I’m sounding weak and emotional. I stop short. He’s tilted his head, listening. That’s the last thing I need to do,cryin front of him. I take a deep breath and stare off at the bright covers of the books in the nearby bookcase.
It’s the self-help section. Of course.
He’s so sure of himself. He probably thinks I’m just another lap dog, about to roll over and expose my belly so I can date him.
