Anton
Mood Reader with Rose. In Cashmere Cove.
I hold up my hand, signaling to our waitress that I’m ready for the check. She nods in acknowledgment.
TJ
Someone needs to talk to you about the appropriate usage of emojis.
Anton
Rose told me to add them
See you soon, I’m guessing?
TJ
Yes.
Anton
That’s what I thought.
YOU’RE WELCOME
I roll my eyes for real, stashing my phone as the waitress hands me the check. I thank her and hand over my card.
“You ready to get outta here?” Amber purrs as she slips back into her seat.
More than she knows. I’m reenergized at the thought of seeing Lucy. I’m on the north side of the city, but I probably have about a thirty-minute drive to Mood Reader.
“Actually, something’s come up,” I tell Amber. “I’ve gotta run.”
She pouts. “That’s too bad. Rain check?”
“I’m not really interested in anything serious right now. With my busy schedule, I don’t know if I’ll have much free time in the future.”
A sour expression crosses her face. I can tell she thought this lunch date was going to end much differently.
“Well, you know how to get a hold of me. I can be available, even for just a quick rendezvous.” She wiggles her eyebrows, and I fight against a sour look of my own. Suddenly, hooking up with women feels shallow. Like it’s not good enough … for me or for them. It seems the guys’ pep talks are finally getting to me.
That, or thinking about how Lucy has never been kissed—which is a subject I am very curious about but have very little idea how to broach with her—is making me think about how kissing anything that moves and looks my way isn’t how I want to act.
There was a time when I thought Tess would be the last woman I ever kissed, and I was content with that. After she passed, I snapped. I knew I could never let myself get attached to another woman like I was attached to her. The pain of losing her was enough for a lifetime. So why not have some fun in the meantime, right? It felt like a foolproof plan. It was. Until now … when it … isn’t.
I walk Amber to her car and then all but sprint to my truck.
I make the drive up to Cashmere Cove in twenty-five minutes.
The bell above the door at Mood Reader jingles when I walk inside. Instrumental Christmas music greets my ears, and my shoulders tense, but I feel myself relaxing when I spot Lucy through the shelves. She’s in the corner, at the back of the store, curled up in the same chair from the picture. She doesn’t look up when I enter.
Anton is leaning against the check-out desk in the center of the bookstore, angled toward Rose, who calls out a welcome. Anton waves to me, but I motion for them to be quiet. I don’t miss the look they exchange, but I ignore it. I saunter through the cute book shop toward Lucy. There are several patrons perusing the shelves, but they seem to be more interested in their book selections than they are in me. I’m used to people making a big fuss when I walk into a room. It’s kind of nice to blend in. To not feel like I have to put on a show.
Mood Reader is done up for Christmas. Twinkle lights are draped from the top of bookshelves. The display tables are all covered with red-and-green fabric, and lots of the books feature holiday titles. It smells like cinnamon and pine, and I have toadmit I don’t hate it. As I get closer to Lucy’s chair, I spot earbuds in her ears.
I drop into the empty chair next to her and stare. It takes a solid sixty seconds, but eventually she blinks as if coming out of a daze and looks over at me. She sucks in a breath.
