“Yeah. This may have been a mistake. Is it as glorious as it seems down there?”
“Well, I’m not a fair judge. I’ve already had a frosty adult beverage.”
“Have you?” He raised his eyebrows.
I nodded my head yes, grinning as if I just spilled some big secret.
“Where’s your mom?”
“She’s resting over there,” I pointed.
“Well, good. She should relax. You think you’ll stay down there for a while?”
“I don’t see why not. I’m almost two thirds of the way through a book.”
“Ah. That’s the best part, usually. Whatcha reading?”
“It’s a romance novel. You’ve probably never heard of it.”
“Try me.”
“It’s calledThis Time Next Year,” I said. “It’s by Sophie Cousens.”
“And? Do you like it?”
“Actually, I like it so much that I read it every Christmas.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. It came out a few years back. It was Sophie’s debut, same year as me. And it just skyrocketed. Mine, sadly, did not fare as well.”
“So do you read it for, like, research?”
“Nope. It’s just an excellent love story. It makes me happy. And it’s a story about New Year’s, and, like, superstitions around New Year’s. No spoilers, though. I don’t want to give anything away. It’s just good. Trust me.”
“Sounds like you have some unresolved feelings about New Year’s.”
I shrugged. “I like hopeful things,” I said, switching hands on my forehead. “New Year’s is a hopeful holiday. A chance to recommit to being your best self.”
“Can’t argue that. Hey, if you finish that book while you’re here, may I borrow it?” Beckett asked.
“Sure. As long as you promise to return it. It’s my favorite book. And it’s signed.”
“Understood.”
I cocked my head to the side, studying his face. “You’re really going to read aromancenovel?”
“Yeah, why not?”
I shrugged. “I’m just surprised.”
“I’m interested. Itmustbe good if you read it every year.”
“It is,” I agreed. “But, still. You’re a guy. Guys don’t read romance.”
He paused and shook his head slowly from side to side. A smirk danced across his face. “I want to know what you like,” he said. “And, I’ll be honest. I would download one ofyourbooks but I get a headache when I read on devices.”
I could feel my cheeks grow hot at the admission. “Well, okay then,” I said.
