Page 12 of Fake It Til You Break It

Instead of a studious math professor, I now looked like I owned a coffee shop that hung bicycles and rusted pipes from the ceiling as décor. An improvement, but still…

I sighed and bobbed my head a couple of times as we started walking again.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

“Yes. Thank you.”

“So, what’s the deal with this book signing? No offense, but it doesn’t really sound like your scene.”

“The author is—”

His words penetrated my self-absorption, and I jerked around to stare at his profile. Preoccupied with my own worries, it hadn’t occurred to me that he knew next to nothing about the event.

Yet, he had still agreed to accompany me.

No contracts. No questions. No conditions.

He had simply shown up because it was important to me. Even if he didn’t understand why.

“Everything okay?”

I swallowed thickly and nodded. “Yes, sorry.” Hearing the gravel in my voice, I coughed to clear my throat. “The author is Kendall Bauer. She used to attend the after-school programs at the center as a teenager.”

“Tell me about her.”

While I typically held disdain for boastfulness, in this instance, I was more than happy to brag about Kendall.

The conversation flowed naturally and carried us through the remainder of the walk. When I would start to think I was oversharing or boring him, Beckett would ask another question.

“And in the end, she builds a team and starts her own paranormal investigation business,” I said, concluding a synopsis of the story that really didn’t do it justice.

“There’s going to be another book, right?”

I couldn’t help but laugh at how adamant he sounded, his tone layered with a tinge of concern. Since I had felt the same way after finishing the last chapter, I couldn’t say that I blamed him.

“Yes, I checked her website,” I explained as we climbed the few steps to the teal-painted doors of Page Turner. “The next book is already on pre-order and will be releasing in the fall.”

“Okay, you’ve sold me.” Beckett grasped the gold handle and pulled the door open, sweeping his arm out to usher me across the threshold first. “I need a copy of this book.”

“Then I would say you’re in the right place.”

Our arms brushed together as I stepped past him into the bookstore, and I couldn’t help but think that, maybe, so was I.

four

~ Beckett ~

WhileIhadwalkedby Page Turner a few times in the past, I had never been inside before now. It looked exactly like I had imagined.

Heavy shelves lined with hardbacks, paperbacks, and even a few leather-bound classics. A section dedicated to stationery supplies, such as pens, notebooks, and planners. Quiet reading corners filled with squat chairs and those weird green and brass lamps that probably came with a fedora and a chain-smoking starter kit.

Following the low murmur of conversation to the back of the store, we joined the thirty or so other guests waiting for the event to start. Admittedly, I knew little about these kinds of things, but I considered it a decent turnout for a baby author debuting her first novel.

A long table stacked high with copies of Kendall’s book took center stage, while those in attendance found seats in the rows of folding chairs. Women comprised the majority of the crowd, but I spotted a few men scattered throughout the room.

And it relieved me to see a mixture of jeans and slacks, cotton tees and crisp polos. Jasper’s meltdown over his attire had been sweet, but I wished he didn’t place so much importance on other people’s opinions.

The air in that part of the store smelled of crisp new pages and floral perfumes, both mingling with the scent of brewed coffee coming from the catering table. I wouldn’t have considered it overwhelming or offensive, but Jasper wrinkled his nose. A subtle shift in his expression that might have gone unnoticed if I hadn’t been watching him so closely.

---