I let her sit with that for exactly two seconds. “Lily gets devastated if I’m late.”
“… Lily?”
“Bosko’s daughter. She’s three. You’re not jealous of a three-year-old, are you, Sinclair?”
“I wasn’t…” She rolls her eyes at me. “Fine, you can stay, but you’re on book duty.”
She nods as Luca dives for a shelf and pulls a handful of books to the floor.
Chapter 12
Izzy
Iblow out a deep breath, gripping the sides of the porcelain bathroom sink.
I can do this. I can do this.
I can.
Still, my hand shakes as I try one more time to draw a killer winged eye.
It’s been a flurry of texts between Jack and me this past week, coordinating for tonight. This time, he’s sent two dozen white roses with a note that reads,Thinking of you.
Subtle touch, but a small part of me knew it was in earnest. Why else would he have DoorDashed coffee to the bookstore each morning while he joined the team for practices this week? Not sure who ratted me out, but he discovered my love of iced blueberry lattes.
The doorbell rings, and I nearly trip on my way to answer. I throw open the door, giddy at seeing his costume, but I’m met with a group of children shouting, “Trick-or-Treat!”
My stomach sinks.
“Oh wow, look at you guys!” I grab my candy bowl from thefloor. A pink, sparkly witch, Spider-Man, and two zombies. “You guys are killing it.”
They grin wide, their eyes nearly popping out of their heads when I reach into my bowl and pluck out the treat bags I made. They mumble their goodbyes and thanks before scattering down my walkway and heading to the house across the street.
Back inside, I spray my hair one more time until I’m convinced the giant curls I have will hold, then search for my keys and clutch before there’s another knock at my door, followed by a ping on my phone.
Jack: That’s me. Just so we’re clear. Don’t throw anything when you open the door.
It’s been like this since he helped watch Luca at the bookstore. These short, flirty texts. They were definitely not discussed in our deal, but maybe they should have been because I already feel myself slipping past any smart and reasonable boundary.
Izzy: Why would I waste anything to throw at you? Those Almond Joys are all for me.
Jack: Unbelievable. Do you treat all your dates this way?
Izzy: Only the fake ones.
I switch on the small table lamp I have tucked into the corner of my kitchen counter.
Jack: Open up, Izzy.
I can do this. I can do this.
I pull open the door, revealing Jack on my doorstep.
“Hey.” Jack’s voice is a rough whisper. His bright-blue eyes do this neat trick and burn in appreciation as they scan down my body.
“Hi. You’re a…” I squint, taking in the full picture. Black habit, white collar, rosary beads, and a briefcase with a handwritten sign that says “Business” taped to it. “Wait… is this aBob’s Burgersreference?”
He lifts the briefcase slightly, deadpan. “Nun of your business.”
