Page 20 of South of The Skyway

Noel ruffled her short auburn hair, rolling her eyes. “Mr. Tall, blonde and shredded didn’t put you in a better mood?”

“Rhyett’s easy on the eyes. Yes.”

“But?”

“Noel, I know you and Eric are listening to wedding bells to the beat of your steps, but not everyone sees heart eyes all day.”

Her gaze fell to the shipment of books by her feet, and something in my gut twisted as she laughed, the sound somehow hollow. “Yeah, but daaayuum.” Her expression slipped back into a cocky smile. “As if his face wasn’t good enough, I glimpsed that ass, and you could really sink your teeth into that thing.”

Why hadn’t I thought of that? I mean, between the nerves, arousal, and screaming self-doubt, I guess I hadn’t made it that far. “Don’t get me wrong. Best sex ever. I’d love to see what the man can do on a bed.”

“Or a shower.”

“Ugh, yes. Shower sex is nice.”

“But just-showered-together sex is better.”

“I’ll have to find that out for myself. But is it messed up that I kind of want to preserve that memory?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know. Just preserve that one perfect night together? Laughing, sneaking off to a freaking bathroom.”

“Never took you as an exhibitionist.”

“Certainly fucking not.”

“Wouldn’t have thought you had it in you.”

“Welp. Certainly hadhimin me.” I laughed. “But come on, I’m not crazy. I like my life. I’ve worked really, really hard to say that. I love our shop, and I have friends, and things are finally moving the right way. A man like Rhyett…he’d be a distraction. One I certainly can’t afford. And frantic, feverish, can’t-wait, gotta-have-you sex in a bar. It can’t get better than that, right?”

“Jesus, Brex. Of course, it can get better than a fast fuck in the Three Leaf bathroom. Super sexy man, let’s you self-sabotage with some bullshit line aboutletting fate decide, and still wants to take you out whenfateherself brings him back to you? Did he hit your head on the mirror or something?”

Hands raised in surrender, I shrugged. “Ugh. Fine, okay, it can get better. I’m just not…in the place for something steady.”

“You act like it’s torture.”

“I just don’t want to ruin hot Rhyett that bent me over the counter.”

“I have a sneaking suspicion he’d happily agree to a reenactment.”

Glaring at her, I turned to lean against our display table and tucked my hands in my front pockets to avoid peeling my nails. “Relationships are freaking complicated. How can I want someone and be totally content single at the same time?”

“Everything good takes work, Brex. Hell, you taughtmethat. I don’t know. You two had sparks bouncing the instant he waltzed up to you. Don’t you think that means something?”

“It means the chemicals in my body liked the chemicals in his body and demanded a taste.” My attempt to stay quippy wasn’t erasing my anxiety. Her response to my ribbing was still riddling holes in my resolve, best friend radar in full alert mode. “Hey,” I said, nudging her in the ribs. “What about you? Everything okay in the House of Commons?”

“What?” She smiled, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Oh yeah, I was just going to say the best thing about this country is that no matter where you are or what time of day it is, you can always find a channel playing reruns ofFriends.” Before I could respond to the apparent deflection, the bell rang, jerking our attention to the front door and Noel to her feet. “Hi there! Welcome! Please come in. I’m Noel. What can I help you find?”

The customer was a petite mid-twenties Latina with Disney princess eyes above a button nose. Dark, sleek hair that fell to her waist framed sun-kissed skin. She smiled tentatively at Noel, who giggled sweetly, motioning her forward. Everything about my best friend was disarming. She could lure people in just with her energy and then keep them indefinitely with that endless golden retriever charm.

“We’ve read everything we stock, so there’s no judgment here if you have questions.”

“Well,” the woman said with uncertainty, shifting on her feet and dropping her purse from her shoulder into her hand. It wasn’t an uncommon reaction. Women were generationally programmed to deny and resist their own sexuality, shoving desire and curiosity into a corner instead of embracing it. “I think I’m in a dark romance mood.”

Noel wiggled with excitement—she should have had a tail. “Oooh, do tell. Are we looking for villains that get the girl? Morally gray hotties? Stalkers? How deep are we going?”

The trill of laughter would've thawed out even the most frozen of hearts. The duo moved together, now shifting in synchronicity as Noel led her over to the proper shelves, expertly color-coded with our custom covers. Some bibliophiles would shudder at the mere idea of anything beyond Dewy Decimal. Noel and I? We wanted this place to be personal. Easy to navigate for mood and niched readers alike.

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