The blond waveof Ava’s hair appears in my periphery as I help a customer choose between two thrillers. It takes a solid ten minutes and at least a dozen questions before she decides to just get both. After I ring her up and send her on her way, I hunt for Katrina to let her know I’m heading out a little early. Since she’s always telling me to work less and live more, she claps and does a little jig when I relay the message.
I weave through the store, eventually finding Ava tucked into the oversized green and blue chair in the back corner. When I started working at the Book Nook, she would take the bus after school and do her homework in this exact spot. If Blythe thought it was odd that there was a sixth grader doing math problems in the historical fiction section, she never said a word.
As warmth floods me at the memory, I tug on the slicked-back ponytail she’s rocking. “You ready to head out?”
She glances up at me through thick lashes, taking in my hat, gloves, and coat. “Ugh. I did not miss this cold weather.”
A laugh bubbles out of me. My sister hates any weather that forces her to put on a coat and hide her outfit. I pull her out of the seat and link her arm through mine. “C’mon. Tell me all about the interview.”
“They’d be absolute idiots not to hire me.”
Her confidence and self-worth are enviable. “Obviously.”
She launches into a play-by-play of her interview, going through what has to beevery detail, including the nail color of the receptionist, the color palette of the room she was interviewed in, and her answer to every single question. She’s still going by the time we make it to my apartment, and she’s barely given me the space to ask follow-up questions.
Yawning, she sits on the couch and pulls up Netflix on my TV. “I’m exhausted. What time’s Cole coming over? I need to be sedentary for at least an hour.”
“You’re exhausted?” I tease, plopping down beside her. “I’m the one who barely slept last night becausesomeonekept rubbing her freezing cold feet against me.”
“They were only cold becauseyoustole the covers.”
“Elliott has a very comfy pull-out couch,” I remind her with a wide smile. “You could’ve had your own bed there.”
“Yeah, but he’s always at work or studying,” she points out, waving the remote to accentuate her point. “Plus, this way we got to have a sisterly sleepover. Youdidchange your sex sheets before I got here, though, right?”
“Gross.” I shudder. “Can you not refer to my sheets as sex sheets?”
“I mean, they technicallyaresheets that you have sex in.”
“We are not discussing my sex life.”
In truth, Cole and I spend most of our nights together at his place. Not only does he have a bigger, comfier bed, but he can’t leave Goose alone overnight. And while Goose is more than welcome to sleep at my apartment, he spends half the night howling at every unfamiliar sound. And he despises the violin player. Rightfully so.
Ava pouts, slumping against the cushions. “Oh, c’mon. You can spill at least one dirty deet.”
Ignoring her, I circle back to the original question. “Cole will be here in an hour. He wants to shower after his flight and pick up some stuff for dinner first.”
With a hum, she snuggles into my side like she’s a kid again. “I can’t believe he’s cooking for us. That’s so swoon-worthy.”
“He is very swoony,” I admit with a laugh.
“Swoonier than your book boyfriends?” She waggles her blond brows.
“Way swoonier than my book boyfriends.”
Cole Berrett has turned me into a total fangirl. And I’m not mad about it.
Ava skyrockets off the couch and spins to face me, her cheeks flushed. “Oh my God. I can’t believe I forgot to tell you. I’ve been so distracted by the interview.”
“Forgot to tell me what?”
“Mom’s coming to dinner tomorrow.”
Though an icy sliver of dread instantly winds its way through me, I force a small smile. Trying to rein in my absolute and utter confusion, I merely mimic her words. “Mom’s coming to dinner tomorrow.”
“Yep. Exciting, right?”
That’s one way to put it.
