4. Chapter 4
four
~ Beckett ~
W hile I had walked by Page Turner a few times in the past, I had never been inside before now.
It looked exactly like I had imagined.
Heavy shelves lined with hardbacks, paperbacks, and even a few leather-bound classics.
A section dedicated to stationery supplies, such as pens, notebooks, and planners.
Quiet reading corners filled with squat chairs and those weird green and brass lamps that probably came with a fedora and a chain-smoking starter kit.
Following the low murmur of conversation to the back of the store, we joined the thirty or so other guests waiting for the event to start.
Admittedly, I knew little about these kinds of things, but I considered it a decent turnout for a baby author debuting her first novel.
A long table stacked high with copies of Kendall’s book took center stage, while those in attendance found seats in the rows of folding chairs.
Women comprised the majority of the crowd, but I spotted a few men scattered throughout the room.
And it relieved me to see a mixture of jeans and slacks, cotton tees and crisp polos.
Jasper’s meltdown over his attire had been sweet, but I wished he didn’t place so much importance on other people’s opinions.
The air in that part of the store smelled of crisp new pages and floral perfumes, both mingling with the scent of brewed coffee coming from the catering table.
I wouldn’t have considered it overwhelming or offensive, but Jasper wrinkled his nose.
A subtle shift in his expression that might have gone unnoticed if I hadn’t been watching him so closely.
“Something wrong?” I asked as he led me to a couple of chairs at the back of the room.
I noticed he did that a lot.
Unless assigned to a table or a seat, he always chose a quiet corner or a place in the shadows, like he didn’t want to be seen.
I just couldn’t understand why.
“No, nothing.” He sat rigidly, one leg crossed primly over the other.
“Why do you ask?”
I shook my head.
No sense in drawing attention to something he didn’t want to discuss.
“Just checking.”
We waited in silence for the event to begin, Jasper sitting so still he might have been made of stone.
I wasn’t entirely sure he was even breathing.
At precisely seven o’clock, a bookstore employee stepped up to the microphone to introduce Kendall Bauer, eliciting a round of polite applause from the audience.
Jasper sat up a little straighter, his attention laser-focused on the front of the room as a petite young woman emerged from behind a curtain and took her place at the table.
She greeted everyone and introduced herself, then followed with the obligatory expression of gratitude for their presence.
Only, she sounded like she meant it, her voice filled with excitement and a touch of nerves.
She spoke briefly about her writing journey and inspiration, and I found myself captivated by her easy cadence.
The speech was filled with quirky anecdotes and just the right amount of self-effacement to make her sound relatable rather than tragic.
Then, with a shaky breath, she opened her book and began to read, the words flowing as smoothly as aged whiskey.
The story unfolded like a tapestry, each sentence weaving into the next with a seamless grace.
I admired her talent, but more than that, I respected the bravery it took to share her work with the world.
As I listened, my gaze drifted to Jasper.
He appeared relaxed, a faint grin playing over his mouth, and the air of stillness that surrounded him now peaceful rather than uneasy.
“She’s good,” I remarked when she finished and everyone began clapping.
“She really is.” Jasper’s entire body shook from the force of his applause, and a bright, uncensored smile stretched his lips.
While I had witnessed plenty of entitlement throughout my life, I figured most people helped where they could but took care of their own needs first. And no shame.
No judgment. I fell into that category myself.
The number of truly selfless human beings I had encountered, though, could be counted on one hand, and Jasper Ryan was one of those humans.
The event flowed directly into the meet-and-greet portion of the evening after that, but my date remained seated while the other guests rose to queue at the table.
I waited, thinking maybe he wanted to savor the moment for a while longer.
After a solid ten minutes had passed and he still hadn’t moved, I realized I needed to say something.
“Are we going to get in line?”
“I forgot my book in the car.”
It was such a poor excuse I struggled not to roll my eyes.
“I’ll buy you a new one. Come on.”
“Honestly, I’m not sure she’ll want to see me.” He sounded neither upset nor resigned, despite the heaviness of his words.
Merely accepting. “Her time at the center wasn’t exactly a high point in her life. I don’t want to bring up bad memories.”
I respected the sentiment, if not necessarily his reasoning.
It also sounded like a lot of projection.
“She invited you,” I reminded him.
If he wanted to argue, I had receipts in the form of the texts he’d sent me.
“I’m pretty sure that means she wants to see you.”
“She was probably just being kind.”
Though I usually found his humbleness endearing, this time, it leaned more toward self-sabotage.
No matter what story he had concocted inside that anxiety brain of his, I knew if we left right then, it would end badly.
Once he had a moment to breathe and reflect, he’d question his decision.
Then he would spiral.
I could already picture him pacing his office, worried that he had hurt her and trying to decide how to make it right.
And whatever solution he came up with would likely be over the top and wildly out of proportion to the perceived offense.
“Well, I’m going to get a book signed.”
“That’s wonderful!” He perked up again, smiling from ear to ear.
“Let me know when you’ve had a chance to read it. I’d love to know what you think.”
Ah, hell.
It should be illegal to be that damn cute.
Here I was, trying to save him from himself, and he wanted to start a book club.
I was so screwed, and worse, I didn’t even care.
Since subtlety hadn’t worked, I opted to take a page out of his book.
“I’m kind of nervous. What if she doesn’t like me?”
“Of course she’ll like you,” he responded immediately.
His eyes pinched at the corners, and worry lines marred his brow as he shifted in his seat to face me.
“You are handsome and quite charming, and—”
“So, you think I’m charming?” I probably should have kept my stupid mouth shut, but I couldn’t resist the urge to ruffle those perfectly groomed feathers.
His reaction didn’t disappoint.
His features turned slack as mild concern morphed into alarm, and he jerked his head around to face the front of the room.
An enticing shade of pink crept into his cheeks, and his Adam’s apple bobbed along the column of his throat when he swallowed audibly.
“Yes, well, you have your moments.”
I slid my hand along the back of his chair and leaned closer.
“And she’ll like me because I’m handsome and charming?”
“I’m sure it won’t hurt.” He still wouldn’t look at me.
“What about you, Jasper? Do you like that I’m handsome and charming?”
There was a heartbeat of silence, then Jasper practically launched out of his chair like it had been spring-loaded.
“We should get in line. Kendall is probably worried that I didn’t come.”
I watched him stride swiftly but gracefully across the room to join the back of the group waiting to meet the author.
Yes, I had been playing with fire, but I hadn’t expected him to ignite so quickly.
A part of me felt bad for teasing him, but at the same time, I couldn’t be sorry for it.
If he had no interest, he would have simply ignored me.
I might have received an eye roll or commentary about my inflated ego.
If he felt nothing, he wouldn’t have run away.
Feeling pretty damn smug about this revelation, I took my time, smoothing the wrinkles from the hem of my shirt before crossing the room to join him.
As soon as I stepped up behind him, he spun around and shoved a book at me, smacking me in the chest with it.
“I bought you a copy.” He held an identical one in his other hand, his knuckles white where he gripped the spine.
“Thank you.”
Our fingers brushed together when I took the paperback, and I waited, breath held, for him to pull away.
Though he looked flustered by the contact, he didn’t jerk back like I had anticipated.
Instead, he stood there, too still, eyes too wide, and just stared at me.
I couldn’t be sure if that meant progress, or if I had startled him into paralysis.
Being an optimist, I chose to believe the former.
We didn’t speak after that, and while the silence between us was filled with tension, it didn’t feel uncomfortable.
Just…heavy.
The line moved at a glacial pace, but eventually, we found ourselves standing across from Kendall Bauer herself.
Fair-skinned, with a smattering of freckles and a pin-straight bob of fiery red tresses, she looked like a child.
Which, to be fair, I tended to feel that way about anyone under the age of thirty these days.
Still, given her past—at least the bits I had been able to piece together from Jasper—I hadn’t expected such bubbly innocence.
As soon as her gaze landed on my date, her smile faded, and eyes the color of emeralds flared briefly.
Moisture gathered along her lash line, and she blinked rapidly as her lips pressed together in a tight seam, causing her chin to dimple.
Then, without a word, she rose from her chair and walked toward the end of the table.
Jasper stiffened, and his shoulders rounded as if they carried the weight of the world.
Ducking his head, he exhaled softly, a sad little breath that broke my fucking heart.
It killed me that he had already convinced himself he had done something wrong by simply existing.
Sensing his rising dread, I braced myself for the fight-or-flight to kick in, because with no one to fight, his only option was to flee.
Standing slightly behind him, I reached forward and took his hand, using my body to block the move from curious onlookers.
I didn’t force it, just pressed my palm against his, relieved when he immediately linked his fingers with mine and squeezed.
Feeling my own pulse slow, I leaned forward and lowered my voice so only he could hear me.
“Look up.”
He obeyed at once, lifting his head just in time to catch Kendall as she practically flung herself at him.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” she said, her voice tight and shaky.
“But I’m so glad you did.” She tightened her arms around his neck, clinging to him like a lifeline.
“I just wanted a chance to thank you in person.”
When Jasper released my hand to return her embrace, I stepped away to give them a moment.
I didn’t go far, just in case he needed me, but enough to offer the illusion of privacy.
“I wouldn’t have missed this for anything,” he told her, his tone gentle and comforting.
“And you don’t need to thank me.”
Easing her back, he held her by the shoulders, much like my dad had done to me as a child.
When he’d had something important to say that he wanted me to hear.
“This?” He lifted his head and glanced around the bookstore.
“ You did this.”
She chewed her bottom lip and nodded.
Clearly, she had heard this speech before, and I turned my head to hide my grin.
“Yes, but I never would have had the courage if you hadn’t believed in me, Mr. R.”
“I’ll always believe in you, but it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.”
Sage words.
Too bad he couldn’t seem to apply them to his own life.
“I have to believe in myself,” she recited, a proud smile curving her lips.
“And I do, but I’m still going to thank you, and you can’t stop me.”
Oh, I liked this kid.
Clearly, she had found her voice, and it was filled with fire.
Rather than dispute her further, Jasper chuckled and lightly cuffed the side of her head.
“In that case—” He retrieved his copy of her book from the table and held it up.
“—I would be honored if you’d sign this for me.”
As she scrawled her name across the title page with an artistic flourish, I couldn’t help but compare their exchange with previous conversations I’d witnessed.
Rather than stilted and careful, it had been full of mutual respect and affection.
Though a mere bystander, I still, somehow, felt included in the moment, and it made me realize two very important things.
First, Jasper radiated pure, unconditional love that encompassed everyone in his vicinity.
Secondly, and more importantly, if I was lucky, one day, he might look at me that way too.