“Sure! And while we’re at it, we can talk about adding the online store to your website. It could be really great for your business. I have everything set up and ready to go. You just need to look through and approve the design before we go live.”
I bring my hands together in a plea while I give her my patented puppy-dog eyes.
Eve smiles but looks away.
“I don’t know, Aury. I like my business the way it is. I like the size and the scope. I’m afraid doing this will make it too big and I’ll lose control.”
“Oh, okay. Yeah, I get it,” I say, aiming for casual and overshooting straight into chirpy.
Truth is, I don’t get it.
Not really.
Eve is the most adventurous person I know.
She named her shop after Lilith, preaches sex positivity before the sun’s finished rising, and keeps a spreadsheet of which local mountain men are good in bed. But when it comes to selling tents online? Suddenly, she’s worried about losing control.
I know it’s not about the tech. It’s about the weight of it all. She’s been doing this solo for years, and I just wish she’d let me carry some of it.
Eve pulls herself out of the cloud of sleeping bags and brushes her hands on her pants.
“Okay!” Eve shouts, clapping her hands. “Let’s go. I need vodka, stat!”
She shoots me a shy grin and quietly starts cleaning up the mess she made.
I take that as my cue and look around for anything else that needs tidying.
Once the store is clean and the register is locked, Eve and I leave through the front door, arm in arm.
Lorewood’s location deep within the Appalachian Mountains means Main Street slopes, and Eve’s store sits right in the middle of this incline. Strings of bright white light bulbs crisscross above us, casting a warm glow as we walk downhill toward the only bar in the area.
The air is cool, carrying the scent of pine and frost from the woods just beyond town. The soft rustle of leaves skitters across the pavement, blending with the quiet hum of conversation spilling from our destination.
When we reach the bottom of the hill, a shop I hadn’t noticed before catches my eye.
I’ve only been here a few weeks, so that’s not surprising.
But the name—Nodens’s Used & Rare Books—makes something deep within me hum with happiness.
I come to a full stop and give Eve the kind of stern look that says: bitch, explain.
“E, why have you been keeping this from me? I can’t believe you’re my best friend and you didn’t tell me about this!”
“Um … oh, right! Because books. Duh!” Eve replies, dramatically slapping her palm on her forehead. “Geez, Aurora, maybe because we’ve been busy at the store, and I thought knowing where to get groceries is more important than encouraging your addiction to paper and bindings. Remind me, how big is your TBR pile at home?”
I love Eve, but I hate it when she’s right.
“Okay, I guess food is more important than books, but look at this place! It’s basically porn for book people. And … AND! Do you know who Nodens is?”
I know I’m a grown-ass woman clapping her hands and bouncing excitedly in front of a bookstore, but seriously—places like this are few and far between.
Eve laughs, then humors me. “Actually, I just assumed it had something to do with literature. The guy who owns this place is a total Lorewood legend. People talk about him all the time. Some of it’s weird, some of it’s funny … and some of it? Downright terrifying. Like, serial killer shit.”
“Okay, okay, put the creepy book-man aside for a second.”
Who gives a good goddamn about the stuffy old owner?
“Nodens is a Celtic god,” I say, plowing ahead like the nerd I am. “Points to bookish Ted Bundy for not choosing a Greek god—so overdone. Anyway, Nodens is the god of hunting, dogs, and healing. Isn’t that fascinating?”
