Eight
Silas
“You’re up early. I didn’t think you would be after texting me late last night,” Stacey says from the laundry room, stripping out of her scrubs to wash them for her next shift.
“I couldn’t sleep anymore.” My everyday problem lately. Today I decided not to fake sleep and deal with her questions instead. I’m regretting it. I don’t need her to have another reason to worry about me. I’m not struggling to sleep due to not being tired. I force myself awake to keep the dreams away. There’s a huge difference between all the new ones I have. They aren’t all nightmares like I thought they were at first. They don’t all leave me with a bad feeling when I wake up.
The men in masks have me shaking with fear, while being around him makes me experience a happiness that hasn’t been there in a long time. I hate how good seeing him feels when I close my eyes—how much I look forward to it. Mainly because I can’t make sense of why.
“Close your eyes, I have a surprise for you, mi amor.”
As if the dreams are happening all over again, I close my eyes and open them again when the washer starts. Walking past me in only her bra and underwear, Stacey opens the fridge to grab a bottle of water. “Are you having brunch with your mom like last Thursday, or do you have other plans?” She sips on her water, resting her hand on the counter.
“My mom’s volunteering at a nursing home today and I don’t have any set plans.”
“You can always read the new book I got you.” She’s trying to keep me home. If I stay with her, she’ll ask me to lie down and I’ll close my eyes. If I close my eyes, I’ll hear his voice again and have more words to replay in my head whenever I’m awake. “I think I’m going for a drive.” I can say it’s because I miss doing things on my own, but it’s more than that.
Turning away from her, I walk to the stove and glance out the window. Up until a few days ago, I was going for short afternoon walks when not at work, and after I started driving again, I wandered down random roads I’ve never been on before. I’ve ended up at the same lake three times and a bookstore twice, never brave enough to get out and go inside. Curiosity has me wanting to venture out again. Curiosity and a nagging sensation inside my chest. A loud whistle replaces the overstretched silence between us and she looks down, brushing her hair from her face. “Well, I’m going to go take a nap. I have to be at the hospital again tonight, and you know how these back-to-back night shifts kill me.”
“Yeah. You need your rest. Do you have to work at the restaurant tomorrow?” Grabbing a cup from the cabinet, I add a strainer and toss some tea leaves inside before pouring in hot water from the kettle. Coffee is my usual drink of choice, but lately I’ve been reaching for Stacey’s tea instead and suddenly I’m in the mood for chamomile. Not only do my dreams and thoughts not feel like mine, my taste buds and random cravings don’t either.
“Yeah.” She frowns. “I’ll be off this Sunday though and we can do something fun then.”
“Can we go to the lake?” I blurt out without meaning to.
“The lake?” She lifts a brow. “Feeling adventurous lately?”
“I haven’t been there in a long time and thought it would be nice to go. We can rent a canoe or boat. Maybe have a picnic there.” Removing the strainer, I set it in the sink and lift my cup to my mouth, blowing over the top.
She pushes off the counter, smiling. “Sure. That does sound nice. It’s a date.” She moves in closer to kiss me on the cheek. “You enjoy your day off without me and don’t go too far.”
“Goodnight.” I sip my steaming drink and she walks toward the short hallway leading to our bedroom, shouting behind her. “Night.”
Taking my drink to go, I leave the house and drive to the bookstore I can’t stop thinking about. Instead of parking across the street like the other times I’ve been here, I get out of the car and pause in front of the double doors. I won’t find the answers I want unless I go inside. Why is it so damn hard to open the doors? What do I think I’m going to walk into . . . an episode of Criminal Minds ?
Shaking off my crazy thoughts, I reach for the long wooden handles and enter the cute little store. My nose is met by a sweet scent mixed with the musty pages of old books. It’s a used bookstore from what I gather when I first walk in. Searching around, I notice bottles of wine lining a wall behind what looks like a bar. This is different. What is this place exactly? Cute, cozy, yellow and green chairs are scattered around small tables. Bookshelves line all the other walls, completely filled with old and new releases. Maybe my first assumption was wrong but the old book smell is still lingering around me.
“Hello there. What brings you in today?”
Not looking at where the voice is coming from I continue checking out the books, plucking one from the shelf. “I was just sitting at home wondering where I can blow all my money on books while getting drunk at the same time so I don’t feel too guilty about it.”
A soft chuckle fills the room. “Well, you’ve come to the right place.” That voice. It’s deep, smooth, and . . . I turn around and the book slips from my hand. It’s him. Elijah. His eyes widen and recognition sets into those big brown irises. “Hey. I didn’t expect the clumsy guy with cheesy jokes to be you.” He smiles big, his lips slightly crooked and giving off a goofy, adorable look about him. My heart speeds up and I’m hot all over, tugging at the front of my shirt.
“That’s only because you don’t know me well enough yet.”
“Flower shop guy, right?”
Sputtering a laugh, I nod. “Yeah, and you’re Mr. Pena.”
“Please, call me Elijah.” Bending down, he retrieves the book from the floor and hands it to me. “ Where the Red Fern Grows . I haven’t read that one since I was in high school. Definitely a good choice, but also a sad one.”
“I don’t own a physical copy, but I feel like I should since it’s one of the first books that got me into reading. Also, I need a little sad to go with my happy, and I plan to go the rom-com route next.”
“A little sad to go with your happy, huh?”
“Yeah. Nothing makes a funny and lighthearted book more enjoyable than when you need it most, and I’ll definitely need it after reading this.” Lifting the book, I shake it a little, the paper cover making a flapping sound.
Enlightened, his brown eyes sparkle, the sun bringing out a bit of gold in them. They’re hard to turn away from. Everything about him is. “That actually makes a lot of sense.” He finally speaks again. “Never saw it that way before . . . I like it.”
“Yeah, see?” Lowering my hand, I clutch the book to my side, unsure what to do with my other hand so I shove it in my pocket. “I’m not only clumsy with bad jokes, I also bring logic to the table.”
A smile cracks across his face again and I’m enjoying this side of him more than how he was when we first met. His eyes are lighting up and so is the rest of him. It’s breathtaking.
Did I really just think that?
He keeps looking at me as if he found his happy after his sad, and I can’t stop wanting to run my fingers over his lips so I can not only see his joy, but feel it too. Before I know it, we’re so close the tips of our shoes are almost touching. It’s not the first time he’s felt too far away and my body’s reached out to fill the gap. If I don’t leave soon, it’ll keep happening, and what if we get so close there’s no returning to where I started?
Taking a step back, he clears his throat, looking around the almost empty store. “Shall I show you the happily ever after books?”
“Sure. Then while I browse, you can bring me a glass of wine so I can get the full experience.”
“Red or white?” He places his hands in front of him the way a server would at a restaurant.
I tap my lips, putting on my best thinking face. “White. I’m not picky.”
“White it is, and over there near the large window you’ll find all the romance in alphabetical order.”
“Are these new books or used?”
“A mixture.” He winks. “I couldn’t decide if I wanted to sell new or used so I chose both.”
“I like it. Gently worn pages can be just as satisfying as crisp new ones.”
“I agree. You have a look and I’ll be back with your drink.”
“Thanks.” As I’m perusing the shelves, not having any luck choosing a book, a woman enters the store with a man following behind her. He goes straight to the bar while she peeks through the large selection, softly humming as she takes a book out to flip through it.
Elijah comes up to me with my glass of wine. “Here, let me hold that book for you up at the front so you’re not having to carry so much at once.”
“That would be great,” I say, grabbing the glass from his hand, purposely wrapping my fingers far away from where his are. I don’t need any more weird zinging or tingling to happen.
“Can’t find anything good?”
Sipping my wine, I rest a hand on the shelf in front of me. “More like I can’t decide. It’s always a struggle of mine.”
“Are you needing to rock, paper, scissors it?” The corners of his eyes crinkle with humor.
“Ha. I’d have to narrow it down first.”
“Which ones have caught your eye so far?” He steps beside me, his arm so close it rubs against mine, the scent of pine and peaches wrapping around me like a warm hug. Why does he always smell so damn good? Since when do I pay attention to how other men smell? Since him apparently. I should have left the moment I saw him, but still can’t get my feet to go in the right direction.
Or is it the wrong direction? I don’t fucking know anymore. Where am I supposed to be going again? What am I doing? Oh right—picking out books, not sniffing strangers.
“I was looking at these four.” I point to the books that caught my eye with their colorful spines.
“Hmm. Those are good and all but how about this one.” Reaching in front of me, he snatches a book from the ones I picked out and hands it to me.
“ The Unhoneymooners .” I read the title out loud, admiring the beachy feel cover with plants and a bird on the front.
“It’s light, fluffy, and a total mood booster. I think you’ll enjoy it.”
“And if I don’t?” I smirk.
“Then you can come back and try another until you’re satisfied.”
“Okay. I’ll take it then.” I hold the book to my chest, my stomach doing a weird flip thing. It’s not butterflies. It can’t be. It has to be from drinking alcohol on an empty stomach.
“Great, whenever you’re ready I’ll check you out.” He walks over to the counter where the woman from earlier waits for him with a handful of books in her hands.
I finish my wine and set the empty glass on the bar. Elijah hands the customer her bag and tells her to have a good day. Smiling, she calls over to her friend who’s spinning his empty glass around with his fingers and he gets up from his stool to follow her out the door.
“Ready?” He reaches under the counter and sets my books on top.
“Yup. This is really a cool place you have here. Is it new?”
“Yeah. I . . . uh, opened months ago but had to close because of personal reasons.” His husband’s death I’m assuming.
“I’m glad you’re open again. Never too many bookstores in this town.”
“No, there isn’t. How did you find it if you don’t mind me asking? I’m always curious to know what brings people here.” He scans my books and places them in a bag.
Reaching into my wallet, I pull out my card and hand it to him. “I was driving from work yesterday and saw it on my way home,” I lie. I can’t tell him how I really found it. He’d think I was crazy. I have to be at this point. I’m here because someone else’s memories led me here. I touch my chest. None of this happened until I had the transplant. At first I thought it was an odd coincidence, but after seeing the man in my dreams in person I’m not so sure. Something inside me led me to him.
“That’s the answer I usually get. Good to know I’m not too hidden back here. It was the only building available at the time, and Landon said it wouldn’t be a problem if I had the right signs. Looks like he was right.”
“Yeah. The bright yellow is definitely eye-catching and so is the cute store name.”
“He chose that too.” He smiles, handing me my card back. I take it and shove it in my pocket before reaching for the bag.
“Sounds like someone I would’ve gotten along perfectly with.”
“Probably. You have similar humor and book taste. Landon got along with just about everyone.”
“He really sounds like a great guy.”
“He was.” His face drops a little. “This place wouldn’t exist if it wasn’t for him pushing me so much.”
“I’m very happy it does. If I enjoy this book, which I’m sure I will, I’ll be coming back so you can recommend me more.”
“I hope you do.”
“Have a good rest of your day, Elijah.”
“You too, and thanks for stopping by.”
It didn’t matter what I’d chosen today—whether I stayed home to read, napped with Stacey, or left the house—I couldn’t get away from him if I tried. The worst part is, I don’t think I want to.