Page 71 of Battle of the Bookstores

BOOKFRIENDS

July 7, 8:02 AM

BookshopGirl:Hey! Haven’t heard from you in a few days. Busy weekend?

RJ.Reads:Hey. Yeah…It was pretty busy. How was your weekend?

BookshopGirl:It was okay.

RJ.Reads:Just “okay”? Did you do anything special?

BookshopGirl:Not really. How about you?

11:43 AM

BookshopGirl:So what kept you so busy this weekend?

4:17 PM

BookshopGirl:Or maybe you were busy with someone. Did you have a hot date? Ooh, maybe you’re still with them. That’s fine, of course.

8:26 PM

BookshopGirl:Sorry for prying. You don’t need to tell me. Is everything okay, though? I hope I didn’t say something wrong. If so, I apologize.

July 8, 5:18 AM

BookshopGirl:Hi again. I didn’t sleep well last night and I’ve typed a dozen different responses, trying to figure out what to say. I can’t help feeling like something has shifted between us. I assume it’s because I didn’t want to meet in person, and I’m sorry. I’m not the best at connecting with people in real life and I don’t have a lot of friends—I’m sure you’re shocked, because I’m so delightful online. (That’s a joke.)

BookshopGirl:But I deeply value your friendship. Whenever anything interesting or crazy or weird happens at work, you’re the first person I think of telling. Whenever I read a book that surprises or excites me, I wonder what you’d think about it. And whenever I get a new message from you, my whole day brightens. Now I feel like I’ve lost something precious and I know it’s myfault but the fact is, I miss you. So much. And honestly, it’s rare that I miss anyone.

6:34 AM

BookshopGirl:I’m sorry, that was a lot. Feel free to disregard. Why doesn’t this stupid website allow us to edit or delete our messages?

9:33 AM

RJ.Reads:Hi. I didn’t mean to leave you hanging but I needed to collect my thoughts. You haven’t done anything wrong, I promise. I respect your decision to keep this friendship online, but if that changes, let me know. I’d love to keep chatting here as often as you’d like. I’ve really missed you, too.

19

Josie

Since returning fromMaine last week, I’ve decided on a new rule: no more drinking around Ryan Lawson. And no more touching him.

I’ve never thought of myself as someone whose judgment is easily impaired, but the combination of alcohol and Ryan makes my head fuzzy. And no more getting so close that I can smell him, either.

I’ve done my best to be polite and distant whenever we run into each other at work. But every time I pass him at Beans, or in our now-combined back room, I get a whiff of his scent. And I’m catapulted back to that beach, to his mouth on mine, my hands shaking as I unbuckled his belt.

I keep imagining what would’ve happened if I’d reached out and touched him when we were in bed together. If he would’ve pulled me under him and finished what we started.

Hence the new rule.

I’ve just unlocked the front door of the store and flipped my sign fromClosedtoOpenwhen my phone chimes.

RJ.Reads:Just thinking about you and wanted to say hello.

I grin, happy to see his message—and grateful for the distraction from my confusing feelings for my former nemesis turned…whatever Ryan is now.

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