She lowers her phone, telling her mother she’ll call her back. Is it me, or does worry crimp her brow? “Emotional. Very emotional,” she finally says. “But that’s probably because your best friend in the entire world is getting married, so you’ll be a weepy mess.”
My lips purse. It’s not that I put it past myself to sob on Calanthe’s big day, but what if that’s not the reason I’m emotional? “Can you try to dream about Cillian and me again? Like maybe, at Thanksgiving? Is he there with me?”
“You know that’s not how Gaea’s gift works…”
I sigh as I finally part ways with them and ride the elevator up. Though I’m still feeling torn, my unease takes a breatherwhen I come toe to cardboard with a big box. I unbolt my front door with magic, then float the box onto the kitchen island.
After I set down my shopping bags, I slice through the tape and peel back the folded flaps. I frown at the contents.
I might hoard titles in my virtual shopping cart, but I usually check out one book at a time so I can give it my full attention before moving on to the next. Did I inadvertently clickbuyand purchase a dozen—two dozen?—paperbacks?
Maybe it’s someone else’s package? I check the flaps for a shipping label, but find only my name written on them in bold black letters.
I pull out my phone.
ME:Did you buy me books?
CALLIE:Recently? Or during the span of our friendship?
CALLIE:Why?
ME:Because someone sent me a box of books.
CALLIE:What sort of books?
ME:The sort I read.
CALLIE:Maybe it was Fiona? I’m pretty sure she went to a bookstore the other day because I saw a pile of new word puzzles.
ME:That’s weird. Even for Fi.
I pull the books out one by one. Some are brand-new releases. Some are older titles.Allour love stories.
At the very bottom, I uncover a piece of folded paper. Three words in all-caps sit in the middle of the page.
WHILE YOU THINK.
Even though Calanthe is blowing up my phone with question marks and detective emojis, I click out of our chat and into another one.
ME:Got your package.
ME:Why would you buy me romance novels?
BOOGIE BOO:Hi.
A beat passes, like he’s waiting for a hello back. I guess I was a little abrupt, but sending it now would be weird, so I just hover my thumbs over the screen and wait with bated breath for his answer.
BOOGIE BOO:I took Mrs. Murphy to the bookshop yesterday because she needed crossword booklets.
Fuck, he’s sweet. I rub my breastbone that’s getting clobbered by heartbeats.
ME:And she volunteered my reading preference?
BOOGIE BOO:After I asked her.
BOOGIE BOO:Still thinking?
ME:No.
