Page 33 of Bookish Boys Don't Date Social Girls
Brent chuckles. “Books are frequently miscategorized or they straddle a couple categories and end up in the one you aren’t looking at. However, in our store, you’ll find most rom-coms under contemporary. And right now, the trend is for the covers to be illustrated. Like this.” He picks up a book and hands it to me.
I skim the back cover. The story sounds great. “But how do I know if there is sex in it or not?”
When Brent blushes, I smirk. I’m so relieved I’m not the only one who can’t get through this without my cheeks flaming. He’s probably not picturing us as the cover models for that steamy romance he pointed out though. Me in his arms, my palms pressed to his bare chest, and my dress tantalizingly askew. I swallow audibly and refocus my attention on the Brent standing in front of me. With his shirt securely in place.
“You can look up the reviews. Usually, reviewers will mention if the scenes were sufficiently steamy or not if the book has them. Or you can hop over to the young adult section and find rom-coms there. Those aren’t guaranteed to be free from bare flesh either, but they are less likely than their adult counterparts.”
Brent leads me to the much smaller young adult romance section. He picks up a book with the illustration of a boy and girl standing next to each other in front of a bank of lockers. Immediately, I feel my pulse jump. That totally looks like my kind of book. I grin at him.
“I think this will work. Thanks.”
“Let me know if I can answer any other questions.” He returns to the box of books down the wall from where I’mbrowsing. I read the back covers of several books that sound perfect. I want to buy them all, but if I do, then I won’t have reason to come back, so I force myself to choose one.
When I turn away from the wall to return to the armchair where I set my coffee and croissant down, I catch Brent regarding me like he can’t figure me out. That makes two of us, buddy. I want to chuckle out loud that his confusion over me is the first expression I can decipher.
I plop into the chair and crack open the book. I’m hooked from the start. The next thing I know, both my cup and plate are empty, but my stomach is growling again. I check my watch and see that more than two hours have gone by. I’m a slow reader, so I haven’t made it through half the book, but I can’t believe I’ve already read as much as I have before I’ve even paid for it.
I gather my stuff and tromp down the stairs. Setting my dishes in the bin near the bottom of the steps, I make my way to the register.
Brent is paging through a magazine when I walk up. The long lines of his legs and torso as he rests on a barstool behind the counter make my mouth go dry. He drums his fingers on his thigh to an unheard beat and I wonder what music he thinks of when nothing is playing.
He hops up when he sees me. “Whoa. I didn’t know you were still here.”
“I got totally sucked into the story and lost track of time.” I plop the book and my purse on the counter to dig for my wallet.
“You’re like Belle in Beauty and the Beast. I should probably just loan you the books over and over again. Do you have a library card?” He grimaces. “Though don’t tell the owners I asked that.”
I shake my head. “I like buying the books I read. I’m lucky enough to be able to afford them and it supports theauthors.”
He smiles, but he’s also squinting like I’ve surprised him again. “And all the other people involved in publishing the book.”
I consider what he said as it dawns on me how well acquainted he would be with that end of publishing. “How many people are involved?”
He blows air through his lips and looks to the ceiling, raising a finger with each answer. “There are content editors and line editors, cover artists, book designers, marketers, distributors, retailers.” He spins a finger to point to the bookstore we are standing in. He shakes his head as he looks at me. “So many people.”
My mouth drops open as I think that through. “How can the purchase of one book pay for that many people to be involved?”
He draws in a deep breath. “More and more it can’t. That’s why so many publishers have closed, and others have bought up the smaller ones. And now that indie publishing is far more accessible, it makes it even more difficult for traditional book publishing to support all those people.”
“Wow. That’s a lot.”
“It is. My dad is always stressed about it.”
“I’m sorry.” I cock my head. “Will you go into the family business?”
Leaning a hip against the counter, Brent crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t know. My dad wants me to. I love everything about books, so he thinks I’d be a natural, but I think it would just ruin reading for me.”
“What do you like to read?” I want to hit myself in the forehead for never having asked him that before.
“Historical fiction, like Ava.”
“Right.” I’d forgotten he’d mentioned that. In all fairness, I was really nervous that day.
“But I also like biographies, World War II books, and horror.”
I laugh. “That’s pretty random.”
“Yeah. I’ll read anything, really. But those are the books I miss if I spend too much time reading other stuff.”
