“Alex, that’s… that’s fucking awful.”
“Yeah.” A humorless laugh breaks from me. “At the time, I thought he and I had something special. It’s pretty obvious now that we didn’t, but it was humiliating.”
Michael gives a slow nod. “And that made you stop believing in love.”
I nod too, unable to meet his gaze. “And, you know. I’m thirty and I’m still single, after dating for years. Lately I’ve felt like maybe these books”—I gesture to my basket—“aren’t realistic. Like maybe love really is a fantasy.” I scratch my arm, trying to ignore the sadness tugging at me. “For years I wanted to meet someone and fall in love. And the more I wanted it, the crazier I felt. So I just… stopped.” Well, I tried. But looking at Michael’s handsome, understanding face, I realize it hasn’t worked one bit. “I just wanted to grow up and stop believing in fairy tales.”
“Is that what you think growing up is? No longer being optimistic?”
“Well, you’re older than me and you’re…” I motion towards him vaguely, searching for the right word.
Amusement pulls Michael’s mouth into a smile. He raises his eyebrows, waiting for me to finish.
“Well, you’re kind of cynical.”
He nods. “I am, and it’s the thing I dislike the most about myself. I’d never realized that until I met you. Why do you think I’m drawn to you, Alex?”
I shrug, because honestly? I don’t have the faintest clue.
“Becauseyou’re optimistic. You have a way of seeing the world that makes me want to be more positive. But what you’re saying about love…” His brow knits, and something flickers in his eyes. “There’s nothing crazy about believing in love.”
I gaze at him, feeling a wry smile creep onto my lips. “Well, I never thought I’d hear that from the same guy I ran into on Halloween.”
Michael grimaces. “Yeah. That guy was a dick.” I chuckle and he shakes his head. “I didn’t think I’d feel that way again either, but… things change. Sometimes people come into your life who make you question things you’d always assumed were the truth.” His eyes crinkle into a tender smile, and my heart swoops. Because I’m quite certain he’s talking about me.
I rub my chest, feeling an ache building behind my ribcage. I can’t believe this guy, standing here in the poetry aisle of the most amazing bookstore I’ve ever seen, telling me to believe in love.I’msupposed to be the romantic here—he’s supposed to be the cynic. But it almost feels like, right now, he knows me better than I know myself.
Fuck. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep telling myself I don’t want him.
Without stopping to think, I take a step closer, stand up on my tip-toes and press my lips to his. He’s caught off-guard and stumbles a little against the shelf behind him. It takes a fraction of a second for him to respond, but when he does…
Oh myGod.
His warm lips brush over mine in a soft, gentle kiss, and his hands settle lightly on my waist. There’s a zing through me, a thrill at kissing him finally, at how lovely it is.
And then my thoughts come piling in and I step back, embarrassed.
What the hell is wrong with me? One minute we’re having a perfectly nice conversation then the next I’m throwing myself at him. I cringe as heat sweeps over my cheeks.
“Shit.” I touch my fingertips to my tingling lips, studying the carpet. “I’m so sorry.”
But when I force myself to meet his gaze, he’s looking at me with dark eyes and a sexy smile, shaking his head. “No. Don’t apologize.” His gaze drops to my mouth. “Kiss me again.”
25
Oh God. I know I shouldn’t kiss him again, but fuck—I’m only human.
I slide my tongue over my bottom lip, ready to press him up against the bookshelves, when I hear a sound beside us.
“Excuse me, could I just…”
My eyes swivel to see a young woman, gesturing down the aisle beyond us, and I resist the urge to scream. “Oh, yes. Sorry.”
We both turn awkwardly to let her pass, and I take a second to get some air into my lungs. I want so badly to kiss him again, but this woman is hovering nearby now, and—well, I guess we are in public. I can hardly blame her for wanting to browse books in a bookstore. But still.
Michael and I stare at each other for a moment, then he reaches for my basket and hauls it up onto his arm, not taking his eyes off me.
“Come on.” He nods towards the front of the store. “I want to show you something.”
