Page 39 of Love is an Open Book
We made it to the end, but somehow it feels like we’re just getting started.
Thirteen
Mia
Gavin and I burst out of the door like we really did just escape from the center of the earth. They weren’t kidding about authenticity. The game master presses flyers into our hands and asks us to leave a review, but mine would be along the lines of:Headlamp malfunctioned, resulting in almost kissing the friend I swore never to get involved with.Two and a half stars rounded up for realism. Because things almost got very real in that cave, and I’m not sure what to do about it.
“New guideline for these tests,” I announce, when we’re finally out of the fake spelunking gear and back in the mall. My heart is still racing from the moments I spent on top of Gavin. Oh lord,on top of him. “We don’t do anything that makes us uncomfortable.”
He runs a hand over his golden-brown hair, tidying the strands that were rumpled by the helmet. “I thought getting out of your comfort zone was the whole point of this.”
“Mycomfort zone,” I correct. “Not yours. You don’t need to be knight-in-shining-armoring scary situations for my sake.”
He smirks. Smolders, really. Is this a new thing or a lingeringeffect of our unintended embrace? “Trust a romance author to turnknight in shining armorinto a verb.”
“That’s what you got from what I said?”
“You’re right.” He stops, leaning against one of the pillars, hands in his pockets. A romance hero move if I ever saw one, and to my dismay, it sends my heart fluttering. “I should’ve told you that I don’t like small spaces. But that goes both ways. Are you scared of the dark?” His blue eyes have turned watchful, intense.
I cross my arms, defense against his casually attentive pose and his handsome face and the disarming way he never seems to get enough of knowing me. “A little.”
“You never mentioned it.”
“I thought we were going to be in a Victorian library, not a cave. And it’s super embarrassing to be a grown woman who sleeps with the light on.” I was hoping to gloss over it, but no such luck.
His brow furrows. “Every night?”
“Only a little light.”
“Like a night-light?”
I shrug, twitchy. “A small lamp.”
He’s eyeing me contemplatively, like he’s taking in this new information and comparing it with what he knows about me. “How small?”
“About this tall.” I make a space with my hands.
“Like a desk lamp?”
“Yeah, a bedside lamp.”
He’s still got that look of deep focus, and I can tell he’s not judging me, he’s intent on discovering me. It gives me a thrill to be the object of his concentration, like we’re learning each other for the first time. “You sleep with an actual lamp on. Every night.” It’s a statement, but I feel compelled to answer him.
“Only when I’m alone.” I don’t want him to think I’m forcing my boyfriends to adopt my weird habits. “I’m not scared with someone else around.”
“But you haven’t had a boyfriend since...” He trails off.
“Yeah, since the series premiered.” Two years ago. Saying it aloud is more embarrassing than running from the dark like a child, but Gavin knows what happened with every guy I’ve gone out with since then. Either they acted threatened by my small measure of fame, or I didn’t fit their idea of a romance novelist—I’m a regular girl who likes staying in and bingeing shows.
“I get it. You’ve had a lot on your plate.”
“It’s not like I’m undatable.”
“Mia.” The rumble of his voice stills me. “I know.” His gaze sinks into my skin like summer heat. “I’m just picturing you turning on a full-fledged lamp to chase away the shadows and I...” He runs a hand through his hair, mussing it all over again. “Sometimes I don’t know what to do with you.”
That makes two of us. I almost kissed him, and now I’m trying to fit my feelings for him back into the friendship box, but the lid won’t close. Or maybe what I feel for him is too big to be contained. “Anyway, you can’t judge, since you didn’t tell me your fear, either.” I go on the offensive, but he doesn’t bite.
With a hitch of his shoulders, he says, “I wanted to do this with you.”
