Page 18 of Delay of Game

I pullup to her apartment building, trying hard not to think back to the last and only time I was here. Because if I think too hard about that night and what an idiot I was, I might actually lose my mind and ask her to kiss me like that again.

Alice comes bounding down the steps with a cute beige beanie on her head and a large canvas tote on her shoulder. I squint at the words on it that say:Came for the books, stayed for the smut.

I roll my eyes and try not to blush when she opens the door to my SUV and hops inside. Her eyes are still a little red from crying, but her smile is blinding.

“I hope you brought your wallet, because books ain’t cheap,” she says, looking me dead in the eye.

I grin back at her and say, “Don’t hold back on my account, I want to see how much damage you can do in sixty seconds.”

“Oh, it’s on!” She laughs and throws her arms around me. It’s awkward since I’m only partially facing her and there’s a center console between us. But when her signature floral scent envelops me, I automatically put an arm around her, pulling her close.

I missed her.

We stay in each other’s embrace for a moment longer than necessary, until someone honks at me for blocking the sidewalk.

Alice pulls back, startled, and I inwardly curse at the stranger for ruining the moment.

“We should get going,” she says, fiddling with her tote and adjusting her hat. Could she be nervous to hang out with me again? Just the two of us?

This isn’t the first time we’ve been alone together since the night of our kiss. There was the time she helped me pick out birthday presents for my sister, Tangela. We wandered the aisles for hours in the search for the perfect book, which then turned into a whole basket, as Alice suggested we get bookmarks, annotation kits, tea, mugs, and even a blanket for it.

Who knew girls were making this book thing into such a hobby?

She seemed more shy around me at Thanksgiving and Christmas, sneaking glances from across the room and rambling any time I asked her something. And then there was New Year’s, when I drove her home at the end of Robbie’s party and we listened to Hozier and talked about how wonderful Olivia is and how fun our trip to Northern Michigan will be.

My mind is still racing with thoughts about Alice as we park the car. The independent bookstore she likes is rather small, but it does have two stories. I hold open the door for her and get a whiff of her floral perfume as she enters. My hand shakes with the need to touch her, to land on the small of her back, but I restrain myself.

This is unchartered territory for us, and the truth is, I’m still not sure what I want from her. Friendship, definitely, but beyond that, I’m torn. Everything is still complicated. Still messy. All I know is that I don’t want to be the one that hurts her feelings.

And yet you did just that by rejecting her.

I shake myself out of my own thoughts and look around the quaint bookstore. The lighting is warm and the music transitions from Hozier to something by Noah Kahan. I smile, realizing how much Alice likes this song and how we spent so many summer nights around a bonfire, listening to her indie playlist that sounded just like this. Her eyes find mine and there’s a soft gleam there, like she remembers it too.

With a small smile, she turns her gaze away from me, perusing the shelves. I grin to myself and take a few steps closer, blocking her view of the books.

“Hey—“

“Alice Margot Elliot, this is cheating,” I say in my most serious voice, though the corners of my lips betray me.

She gasps and brings both her hands to her chest. What a drama queen. “Did you just call me by my full name? What did I do to deserve that?”

“You said you’d get five minutes—timed—to look around, followed by a minute of book-grabbing. So what are you doing looking at books already?”

She groans and throws her head back. “But I can’t not say hi to my favorite books.”

My eyebrows go up and I smile down at her. She’s so fucking cute in her pink puffy coat and hat with a giant pom-pom on it.

“Are you telling me you’re looking at books you already have?”

“That is exactly what I’m saying,” she says, walking over to one of the display tables and running her hand over a book titledDivine Rivals. “I miss you so much,” she whispers.

A laugh escapes me at the way she wistfully talks to the books, and Alice pins me with a glare.

“Don’t laugh at me,” she chides, but I can tell she’s not hurt by my laughter by the way the corners of her mouth pull up in a small smile.

“No, keep talking to your fictional boyfriends, it’s cute,” I say, and bite my bottom lip.

Alice watches the movement and I try my best to compose myself.You’re here for a reason, dumbass.

---