Her fingers brush mine as she takes the books back, and that touch—barely there, innocent, over in a second—sends electricity racing up my arm and straight to places that definitely shouldn't be reacting this strongly to a stranger in a bookshop.
"These are my top three recommendations," she tells me, holding up the stack with renewed enthusiasm. Her whole facelights up when she talks about books. "And I'm totally going to read them eventually, so you should too. Consider it a professional opinion from someone who definitely knows what she's talking about."
I believe her. God help me, I'd believe anything she said if she kept looking at me like that.
I smile, can't help it.
"I'll take your word for it."
"Good! You should!" She's backing away, and I have the distinct impression she's either trying to escape or fighting the same pull I'm feeling. "Also, make sure you go to Hazel's cafe on Maple Street and try the new holiday menu. The gingerbread latte is life-changing. I'm not even exaggerating—it's like drinking Christmas."
Hazel's cafe. The place her coworkers mentioned. She works there, too, probably.
I need to know her name.No, I obviously know her name…But I need to hear her say it herself.
"What's your name?" I ask, trying to sound casual and probably failing spectacularly.
She spins around—actually spins, her skirt flaring out in a way that shouldn't be as captivating as it is—and calls over her shoulder, "Reverie! I'm on TikTok sometimes. You know, if you're into chaotic book content and aggressive positivity."
Then she giggles—the sound that’s filled with pure joy—and spins away again, disappearing around the corner toward the staff room.
I stand there like an idiot, staring at the empty space where she was, my heart doing things it has no business doing.
What just happened?
Who was that?
And why do I feel like I just got hit by a particularly sweet-scented truck?
I shake my head, trying to clear it, and look down at my empty hands.
The books. She wanted those books but couldn't afford them.
Something about finances, waiting for her next paycheck.
I could buy them for her. It's a small thing. Barely anything, really.
Just three books.
I move through the shop with purpose now, knowing exactly where I'm going. I've been to The Book Nook enough times to know the layout—the cozy reads section is easy to find with all those fairy lights and Christmas decorations.
I find the three books quickly. They're right where she would have returned them, lined up neatly on the shelf. I pull down two copies of each—one set for me, because I'm genuinely curious now, and one set for her.
The hardcover editions.
Special editions with sprayed edges and gorgeous cover art.
Not cheap, but worth it.
She deserves nice things. To have the books she loves without worrying about whether she can afford them.
I carry all six books to the counter, where a young woman with a name tag reading 'Mei' looks up with a professional smile.
"Finding everything alright?" she asks.
"Yes, thank you." I set the books down, separating them into two stacks of three. "Can you put these in separate bags?"
"Sure thing." She starts scanning them, and I see her eyebrows raise slightly at the total. "These are beautiful editions. Someone's going to have a good reading week."
