Page 17 of Only Lovers in the Building

“I don’t need a primer, but go on.”

“A romance is not a tragic love story. We won’t read Wuthering Heights or Madame Bovary.”

“Now I’m disappointed,” he deadpanned.

“Rule number two,” she continued. “There’s no such thing as highbrow or lowbrow. We’ll read trad, indie, and everything in between. No judgment.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that. People will judge regardless,” he said. “I promise if you pick up Tolstoy, someone will tell you to read Chekhov, instead.”

“I won’t be picking up either,” Lily said. “Not this summer. I’m fried.”

“How did you lose your job?” he asked.

She hadn’t lost her job. It wasn’t a puppy or a cat. She could find her way back to it if she wanted to. She knew exactly who to call, whose ass to kiss. Only, she didn’t want to. That was the crux of the problem, wasn’t it? She didn’t want to go back and hadn’t begun to explore how to move forward.

He brushed the back of her hand with his. “We don’t have to talk about it now.”

Lily didn’t want to talk about it ever. There was something to leaving the past, even the very recent past, firmly behind you.

“It’s just so boring.” She raised herself onto an elbow. “Let’s talk about you,” she said. “You’re a board-certified genius. I’m impressed.”

“That’s not a thing,” he said, laughing.

“You won a MacArthur!”

“I’m the flavor of the month. It doesn’t mean anything, Lily.”

“In case the meaning is lost on you, let’s review the criteria.” She whipped out her phone and read from the source material. “The fellows are selected for the exceptional work they’ve already done, their ability to do more, and—”

“It’s just words,” he said.

“Words have meaning,” she reminded him. “Tell me about your exceptional work, past, present, and future.”

“It’s just so boring.”

He used her own line against her, a genius move.

Then he did something that outraged her. He folded back the cover of the paperback, creasing the edge. It was a striking cover, too. The story was set in Chicago. The city’s skyline extended from the front to the back.

“Why would you do that?” Lily cried.

“Do what?” he asked, genuinely confused.

“Fold the cover like that! It’ll never lie flat again.”

“Lie flat? It won’t be in one piece by the time I’m done. I might even rip it off and use it as a bookmark.”

This, as far as she was concerned, was the first red flag. She should’ve known Ben was too good to be true.

He pulled a pen from his bag. “I mark them up, too.”

“No!” she gasped.

“Oh yes.”

Lily pinched the bridge of her nose. She could feel a migraine coming on.

“Tell me your book kinks,” he said. “Don’t you have any?”