Page 47 of Captured Love

“Yeah, a few days before Thanksgiving,” I reply as I watch her reaction carefully.

She taps her fingers lightly against her glass as she processes what I said. “That’s right around the corner.”

“Yup. Cake, pie, and food comas. The holy trinity of November birthdays.”

Selene’s smile turns mischievous. “So, should I start brainstorming gift ideas now, or are you one of those ‘no presents, just vibes’ people?”

I chuckle. “Let’s just say I’m open to surprises.”

“Good to know,” she says, her gaze lingering on mine for a moment too long. She polishes off her sangria and then says, “I’m done eating and ready to go check out some books when you’re ready.”

I look at my plate that’s completely empty and then at Selene. She’s already standing, brushing invisible crumbs from her sweater. I grab the receipt and walk up to the front before she can protest. After I’m done paying for our meal, we make our way to the bookstore section of the restaurant.

Selene's eyes light up as we enter the cozy space filled with towering bookshelves. She runs a finger along the spines of various titles, her earlier tension seeming to melt away. This is her element and I’m glad to be sharing this with her.

She picks up a book and flips through the pages, then sets it back down with a sigh. “It's dangerous for me to come here, especially after having a drink. I already have a stack of unread books at home.”

“Get whatever you want. It's on me.”

She glances back at me, skeptical. “Why are you being so nice all of a sudden?”

“I'm always nice,” I say, feigning hurt.

“Right,” she says, rolling her eyes but with a hint of a smile. “Nice is the first word that comes to mind when I think of you.”

She has a point. “I'm trying to turn over a new leaf,” I say. “You know, be more consistent and predictable.”

Selene raises an eyebrow but doesn't comment. Instead, she picks up another book, examines the cover, and puts it back. I can see her mind turning, calculating whether she should let me buy her anything or tell me to shove it.

She finally speaks. “You know, buying me things isn't going to make me forgive you faster.”

“I know,” I say. “But it can't hurt, right?”

She laughs, a genuine sound that momentarily warms the cold front between us. “Fine. If you're so insistent, I'll take you up on it. But remember, this doesn't mean anything.”

“Noted,” I say, feeling a small victory.

Selene takes her time browsing, moving from one shelf to another. I grab a basket and trail behind her, not wanting to intrude but also not wanting to be left out. She grabs a few titles, considers them, then puts them back. This cycle repeats several times until she has a small stack cradled in her arms.

“I’ll take them. Put them in here.”

She looks over at me as if she’s just now noticing me for the first time. “When did you grab a basket?”

“A while ago. I didn’t know how many books you were thinking of getting.”

“Ah, okay,” she says as she delicately places the stack of books into the basket. “These are just maybes. I haven't committed yet.”

I glance down at the covers: a mix of fantasy, romance, and a cookbook. “Interesting selection.”

“I'm a woman of varied tastes,” she says, then pauses. “You know, you could pick out a book for yourself.”

I shrug noncommittally. “I don't have much time to read these days. Practice, classes, and other stuff keep me pretty busy.”

“Other stuff,” she echoes, and I can hear the unspoken accusations in those two words.

“Yeah,” I say, not rising to the bait. “But maybe I'll make time. What do you suggest? Or how about we both buy the same book, and we can read it together and talk about it or something?”

“You’re serious?”

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