My skin grows hot, sweat coating every inch of my frame as my nerves knot in my gut under their scrutiny. I focus on the books, stacking them on the table with one standing up on top of the pile. When I move on to a different set of books, I continue to feel their eyes on me.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I finally blurt out.
The woman tilts her head at the same time as Greer, and it’s scary how closely they mimic one another. Greer sucks her teeth, and the customer takes that as her cue to leave. But she doesn’t hesitate to give me a disapproving nod, using her eyes to tell me just how full of shit she thinks I’m being. At least that’s the way I interpret the scowl on her lips.
“She’s gone now.” Greer crosses her arms over her chest and pads to the corner of the counter.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
One hand goes to her hip and the other to her side. “Look at you like what? Like you’re lying to my face after all the months we’ve worked together?” She steps from behind the counter while rolling her neck for emphasis. “Like all the Sesame Asian salads I’ve fetched for you meant nothing? All the late nights braiding each other’s hair was just what to you exactly?” She’s in front of me now. “’Cause I thought we were friends.”
“Southwest Asian salad. And we’ve never braided each other’s hair,” I combat.
She gives me a look that tells me she doesn’t think I’m funny.
“And we are friends. I just don’t know what you mean.” I shrug and stack another book.
“Arloe,” she chides.
“Greer,” I mock her and bend to pick up the now empty box.
She follows behind me, and I imagine she’s throwing her arms in the air while rolling her eyes. I reach the back near the office, doing everything in my power to ignore the sounds of her footsteps behind me. I face the front again, and just like I thought, she’s only inches away from me.
“Why are you lying to me?” Her voice is high-pitched and playful.
I chuckle, and she does the same as I head back to the front.
“I know what’s going on, so you might as well tell me.”
I saunter past her, pretending not to be bothered by her presence.
“And what’s going on, Greer?” I step behind the counter, dragging my palm across the worn surface. My finger gets stuck on a sticky piece of paper, and I quickly wipe them on my pants with a frown.
“I was there, you know. You both were all bent out of shape over something that was easy to fix.”
I dart my gaze to her, my brows pulling tightly together as I recall my first encounter with him. I was bent out of shape and so was he, but it had nothing to do with me. He was busy doing shit I probably don’t want to know about. I shake my head when I realize I’d been a witness from the very beginning. He said Iman’s name then, when he wasn’t aware I was behind him.
“You two couldn’t keep your eyes off each other. The sexual tension was thick, I was sure you’d get pregnant just from staring. Next thing you know, you’re getting big-ass gift boxes, not to mention you left here early for the first time in like—ever.”
I press my lips together, breathe through my nose, and snatch the receipts from the counter to busy myself.
“You forget I was right here with you the entire signing. All the longing gazes, staring at each other from across the room.”
Her words register, and I realize we’re not thinking about the same person.
“Tatum asked you out and sent you that dress. Probably invited you to some award ceremony which is why you had me stay later for you. You had a date with Tatum LaRose. Best-selling two-timesNew York TimesandWall Street Journal, Tatum LaRose. Mr. King of Mafia Romance himself, and you’re lying to me about it. Which is not fair because I strictly remember some sort of reader’s pact about sticking together and sharing the love of all of the sexy male authors.”
No sooner than the words leave her mouth, the bell above the door rattles when it’s yanked open. The wind from outside sweeps across the space and sending a chill down to my toes. We look to the door, both taken aback by the aggression on Easton’s face.
All the air in my lungs leaves me in a rush, and I gulp at the sight of him. If I’m being honest, I’m not surprised he’s standing in the entryway of my shop, but at the same time, I don’t expect to see him here.
There was something about the way he left me the other night. Something in his eyes that told me there’s much more beneath the surface, much more than what he’s let on. And standing here now, with his face twisted into a half frown, his hair a mess atop his head, deep lines in his forehead, and his gaze burnt into mine, I get the same vibe.
I notice Greer from the corner of my eye, her head snapping between him and me. And the exact moment that her breathing changes and she gasps in a deep breath, I know she’s finally put two and two together.
“Let’s go,” Easton orders from across the room.
I clear my throat and let my eyes roam his body—even his clothes are off-kilter. I frown but fix my face almost instantly. Greer doesn’t know about Easton, we haven’t even spoken about him since the day I confronted him about my parking space. But after today, she’ll be demanding all the details.
