Page 33 of Booked for the Holidays
A pulse of satisfaction runs through me. No sleep? Wonder why.
PourChoices: Not second-guessing the event, are you? You’ve thought of everything. It’ll be brilliant.
JuniReads: Nope. The event is fine. It’s my surprise holiday house guest that’s the problem.
I bite back a laugh.
PourChoices: I thought you liked surprises?
JuniReads: Not this one. It’s very annoying. Tall. Smug. Way too good at smirking. And apparently thinks my apartment is a hotel.
My grin turns downright feral.
PourChoices: Sounds like trouble. Should I sneak you a bottle early for stress relief?
JuniReads: You going to delivery it personally? Or are you too mysterious for that?
I lean back in my chair, imagining her at her desk in the bookstore office below me, typing this out in that fuzzy sweater she wore this morning. That pink bow making her look like a present I want to unwrap.
PourChoices: Unfortunately, I won’t be able to deliver in person. I haven’t been able to make the move yet, but I’m getting closer.
She sends back a suspicious emoji.
JuniReads: You have an occupancy date yet?
PourChoices: Not yet, but things are coming together nicely. Should be soon.
JuniReads: I can’t wait to see it. Would be nice to have a distraction from the chaos of my unplanned roommate.
I can feel her frustration through the screen.
PourChoices: Hang in there. Take ten minutes in that reading nook of yours.
The second I hit send; I curse under my breath. Shit. Too specific.
Her reply comes fast.
JuniReads:How do you know I have a reading nook?
I stare at her words for a beat, fighting the urge to laugh at my own slip. Being around her again has made me careless.
I crack my knuckles and type.
PourChoices: Doesn’t every cozy independent bookstore have one?
A pause. Then her typing bubble pops up again.
JuniReads: You’re right. They should.
I blow out a breath, leaning back in my chair. The quiet creaks of the old building remind me she’s just below me. Close enough that if I wanted to, I could find her in seconds.
But I’ve got work to do. And not just the kind I can hide behind a screen for.
NINE
JUNIPER
I stareat the message blinking back at me:Hang in there. Take ten minutes in that reading nook of yours.
