‘Oh?’ He seems surprised. And, to be fair to him, she has not been acting like someone who is mad at him. She has been acting like someone who is in the tight grip of an all-consuming crush. ‘Why is that?’
‘For the same reason I’ve always been mad at you.’
It’s easier, from down on the piano stool, below his eye level, to throw accusations at him. But Lexi knows they’ll have more force if she stands up. So she does. And then immediately feels awkward and sits back down again.
‘One of my booksellers asked me for a pay rise yesterday. She deserves it, too. They all do. But I can’t afford it. You know why?’ The anger doesn’t feel quite so visceral now. There are other emotions crowding it out. But Lexi is determined to access it.
Sam puts his hands out in front of him, in abeats meposture, and Lexi instantly has no trouble accessing her anger. Playing dumb, on top of everything else? Comeon.
‘Because of you, Sam. Because of you and your stupid shop.’
‘Hey, c’mon. That’s not fair.’
But she’s on a roll now. ‘Your stupid, soulless, Apple Store of a bookshop in a part of town that doesn’t need one because it already has mine.’
Her voice is well and truly raised now. She hopes the neighbours are enjoying the entertainment. How did they get from that electric moment, when it felt like they might be about to kiss, to this, so fast?
‘Ouch.’
She feels thatouchin her own gut, too.
‘Well,’ he says slowly, calmly, evenly. ‘Maybe some people need a store that’s not all cats and romance novels.’
She definitely feltthatin her gut.
‘If those people exist, I don’t want to know them. Who doesn’t like cats and romance novels?’
And then she braces, because what if it’s him? What if he’s the one who doesn’t like those things? Then they could never be friends. Not that it matters. Not that it matters at all, because who wants to be friends withhim?
‘Anyway,’ she tells him. ‘My shop is so much more than that, and you know it, too.’
He is silent, breathing hard, hungry-looking. Hungry, Lexi assumes, for a fight. But she’s already said way too much.
‘Anyway, I should go.’
‘Okay.’
Lexi pushes the stool back, scraping it across the floor in a way that sets her teeth on edge. Sam hasn’t moved and now they’re standing awkwardly close, and she has to get past him to pick up her bag. He doesn’t move, though. He doesn’t cede ground. So now she’s going to have to make a big show of going round the other way, awkwardly walking around the piano stool. She breathes in, walks around, gets her bag.
‘Thanks for the lessons,’ she says as her parting words.
‘You’re welcome,’ he says, still calm, still even. Somehow, the fact that he’s still perfectly polite is even more infuriating. ‘I’ve enjoyed them.’
This seems more than polite. This seems... like he means it? ‘What?’
He smiles. ‘You heard me.’
‘I mean, yes. I heard you. But—’
‘The feeling of hate isn’t mutual, is what I’m saying.’
‘I don’t...’ She can’t quite say it, that she doesn’t hate him either, that she’s been very focused on trying to hate him, but it’s been impossible. She’s frustrated. She’s cornered. And he’s standing there, all green-eyed and handsome.
So she does the only logical thing.
She stands on tiptoes and kisses him.
She hadn’t meant to. She wasn’t prepared. It takes her by surprise, and it’s just a peck. And then she’s mortified, because he doesn’t respond. So she takes a step towards the door, ready to get the heck out of there.
