Page 32 of Bookworm
Adam opened his mouth to object, then abruptly snapped it shut. “I haven’t read that one. I’ve read most of his works, but that’s one of the few that slipped by me.”
“Hmmm. Then it’s hard to say any of his books are arguably the best if you haven’t read them all, isn’t it? Because Ihaveread them all.”
A triumphant flare surged through me as Adam pressed his mouth into a firm line. He loathed being wrong. Especially about books. And especially withme.
There was a time, actually most of our time together in our younger days, when he was never wrong. I loved to read, but I simply didn’t have the wealth of knowledge at my fingertips that he did. The benefit to him having a father who owned a bookstore, I supposed.
But now, for the first time, I bested him.
And damn it felt good.
We reached the front door and as Adam pulled a set of keys from his pocket, I paused, taking a moment to soak in its beauty here. Libraries in the middle of the night were my absolutefavorite place in the world. They were peaceful and quiet… or rather, quieter than they usually were.
Moonlight sliced in through a large arched window casting a blue glow into the shadows and I inhaled, taking the moment to really appreciate the beauty of this epic New England library.
“You ready?”
My stomach growled, alerting me that no matter how beautiful this place was in the middle of the night, I desperately needed to eat.
“Yeah, I’m ready.”
He held the door open for me. “And don’t think I’m not going to grill you to find out who your other top five all-time favorite authors are.”
“I’d expect nothing less, Adam.”
Chapter Nine
The next morning, I woke up with a fur scarf strangling me.
The scarf’s name was Jules.
She was laying on my chest, her body wrapped around my neck, tail flicking against my ear.
Sensing my eyes opening, she let out a loud mewling sound and launched herself off my chest, knowing that as soon as I dragged my carcass out of bed, she’d get a fresh can of food.
“You don’t have to wake me like that,” I groaned, shuffling my way into the kitchen to find her a bowl to eat out of.
Sliding my fingernail beneath the tab, the lid cracked open making a hissing sound, not unlike the noise of opening a soda can.
Excited for her meal, Jules ran figure eights around my feet, nearly tripping me as I set her bowl of food on the coffee table. “Okay, okay. Jeez. Here you go.”
She chirped and hopped on the table, diving into her food in a manner that if a stranger had seen the display, she would have been taken away from me for animal abuse… becauseclearlyshe made it look like I never fed her. Ever. Not once.
If it wasn’t for her chonky rolls, she might actually convince someone of that.
My own stomach growled, reminding me that if not for the fact that Adam cooked up some frozen waffles last night, I wouldn’t have eaten anything.
And now, six hours later, I was no closer to having any groceries in this apartment.
Outside my door, there was a light thump and then the sound of something scraping at the bottom of the door.
I crept closer to the door, trying to be as stealthy as possible just in case it was a serial killer here to spatter my brains across the wall.
Hm. Maybe I needed to back off on watching true crime documentaries before bed.
Leaning forward, I peeked out of the peephole.
I half expected to see Adam out there, looking right at me.
