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Books were, and always would be, something a little magic and something to respect.
Joshua cannot believe anyone would want to spend time in my company. To him I’m a repugnant little shrew. I carefully draw my eyeliner into a tiny cat’s-eye. I wipe off my lipstick until only the stain is left. I put a spray of perfume into my bra and give myself a little wink and a pep talk.
I squeeze his shoulders until I come to the informed conclusion that his body is extravagant muscle under these Clark Kent shirts. “Holy shit.” His collarbone is like a crowbar under my palms. I say the only idiotic thing I can think of. “Muscles. Bones.” “Thanks.”
What the fuck is happening? I ask silently with my kiss. Shut up, Shortcake. I hate you.
“Just once? You’re sure? Would you at least buy me dinner first?” He leans back in his chair, enjoying this exchange. He bites, chews, swallows, and I have to look away because frankly, it’s sexy as hell. “Sure, we can hit the drive-thru for a Happy Meal.” “Gee, thanks. A burger meal and toy before we went and did it. Once.” He sips at his coffee and looks at the ceiling. “Couldn’t you at least spring for a fancy Italian restaurant? Or do you want me feeling cheap?”
His smile is worth a thousand of anyone else’s. I need a photograph. I need something to hold on to. I need this entire bizarre planet to stop spinning so I can freeze this moment in time. What a disaster.
There’s a bookcase lining an entire wall. By the window there’s an armchair and another lamp, with a stack of books illuminated beneath it. Even more books on the coffee table. I’m intensely relieved by this. What would I have done if he turned out to be a beautiful illiterate?
“Take the hoodie off. Please. I’ll only look with my eyes.” He puts his finger on the zip, and I bite my lip. Then he zips it up to his neck as high as it will go, and I howl. “Drink your tea, you little pervert.”
“How You Doing?” I manage, but he
We sing along. The lyrics for songs I haven’t heard in years fall out of my mouth. His fingers drum the steering wheel. Life right now is easier than breathing.
“We’re home,” he says. I think the unthinkable. I should have been thinking it all along. My eyes slide closed and I feign sleep. “You need to wake up,” he whispers. A kiss on my cheek. A miracle. I love Joshua Templeman.
I love him so much it’s like a thread piercing me. Punching holes. Dragging through. Stitching love into me. I’ll never be able to untangle myself from this feeling. The color of love is surely this robin’s-egg blue.
I die when you blink.”
