Chapter Ten #5
It was somehow better, sweeter, than if he’d taken my hand.
“You can take my sleeve anytime.”
He blushed deep pink and took a step back, his eyes cast down to the floor. He blinked a few times. “This is my room.”
His room was large, as far as bedrooms went. There was a bed in the corner with a bedside table. His bed covers were a dark blue, his bed impeccably made. There was a rug on the floor, a desk in the other corner with a model of a plane on it, and a large bookcase by the door.
Of course I was drawn to it.
I scanned the shelves, reading all the titles. He had an eclectic selection, ranging from The Lord of the Rings to manga, some non-fiction animal veterinary journals, and Japanese poetry, of course. “Great books,” I said. “We have a lot of the same titles. Your shelves look very similar to mine.”
He was standing close, still not touching, but perhaps closer than was strictly necessary. “You have subscriptions to the Journal of Animal Science and Veterinary and Animal Science?”
I chuckled. “Except those.”
Then I noticed the long, narrow wooden tray on the second top shelf. Well, more to the point, what was in the tray. There was a small anime figurine, an old plane ticket stub, a bottle cap, a small rock, among other random things, but one thing in particular caught my eye.
It was the slip of paper I’d written his name on when I’d put that book aside for him on the store’s opening day.
I reached up, almost touching it, but stopped just short. I didn’t think he’d like anyone touching his things. “That looks familiar.”
He smiled, his cheeks pink. “Yes.”
“You kept it.”
“Yes.” He kept his eyes on the tray, at all his little treasures. “I like to keep things that mean a lot to me.”
Oh my.
“My little note means a lot to you?”
He nodded, blushing a deeper, beautiful pink. “Yes. Because it came from you. Because you wrote it, but also because you were considerate enough to put the book aside for me.”
Oh my heart. It could have just about burst.
“I love that you kept it,” I said. I looked at the other things in the tray. “Will you tell me what the other things are? What they mean to you?”
He smiled in a way I hadn’t really seen before. Excitement, determination, and animation. He pointed as he went. “Yuri figurine. My dormmate at college gave it to me. She was in the room next to mine, and she told me to watch Yuri on Ice. I hadn’t heard of it and, well, it was very new to me.”
I chuckled. “I can see why you liked it.”
“I’d never read or watched anything that had two male protagonists before. Lucy and I became friends. I would go with her to the bookstore and the library, or out for coffee, and we would discuss the books we were reading.”
I loved this so much. “Oh, she sounds amazing.”
“She’s now at a veterinarian clinic in Boise. I haven’t seen her for a while, though we do email occasionally. She gave me the little Yuri figure as a farewell when we graduated.”
“Aww, that’s so cool.” Then I caught up to what he said. “Wait. Which bookstore in Boise did you go to?”
“Pages. It was close to—”
“No way!” I cried. “That was my store! I was one of the managers there. Are you saying we could have totally crossed paths before?”
He blinked a few times, his brow furrowed, and his eyes met mine briefly before they went back to the bookshelf. “I don’t remember seeing you.”
“There were a lot of people,” I said, not wanting him to feel bad. “Isn’t it funny that we were in the same place though? Crazy to think we could have walked past each other without knowing it.”
He nodded. “Yes.”
I pointed to the plane ticket stub. “What’s this?”
“My first time on a plane. When I was little, I was very into planes. I loved them. I studied them, drew them, watched endless documentaries.”
“The plane on your desk,” I said.
He nodded. “The Lockheed Martin F-35 Lightning II. It’s an American family of single-seat, single-engine, all-weather stealth multirole combat aircraft .
. .” He trailed off with a shrug. “I had many more, all kinds, but they’re in a storage box now.
I keep that one out because it was the first one I bought with my own money.
But I kind of lost interest after a few years. ”
“That happens.”
He nodded again. “The plane ticket was my first time on a plane. I was six. We flew to Seattle.”
“You must have been so excited.”
“I was, yes. But it was loud and there were a lot of people. It was overwhelming. I appreciated it more when it was over.”
“I can totally understand that.”
He went back to the tray. “The soda cap was from my first day at high school.” He shrugged.
“The rock I found at a science excursion in fifth grade.” He picked it up.
“See the white vein of calcite. It runs right through it, perfectly symmetrical. It fascinated me to think what significant geological event must have happened to produce such a thing.”
I held my hand out and he gently placed it on my palm. I could see the line of white calcite. It was kinda cool. “Like a volcano eruption? Is that what did this?”
His eyes met mine and he smiled. “Possibly. A seismic shift, perhaps.”
“That’s so cool. Isn’t it fascinating that they can tell what happened however many millions of years ago by looking at the geological formations?
And fossils. Like how crazy is it to think that whole animals were preserved in sediment or whatever, and humans find them sixty-five million years later. It’s like a snapshot of history.”
His eyes met mine then, that intense burning stare that pinned me in place, making my heart rate spike and butterflies flood my belly.
“Yes,” he murmured.
“Okay, boys,” his mom called out. “Dinner!”
Only then did he look away and I could suddenly breathe again.
Wowzers.
What a rush.
My heart was still hammering when he ducked his head and went to his door. He paused before opening it, glancing at me again, his smile shy, cheeks pink, as if he wanted to burn the image of me standing by his bookcase into his memory.
Then he opened the door and nodded to the hall. “Dinner is ready.”
“Okay,” I said, carefully putting the rock back in its place, and followed him out.
Dinner was lovely. I had been nervous, obviously, but Wayne and Vicky were just the nicest people.
Wayne had an endless well of dad jokes, apparently, which Deacon found funny, if not a little embarrassing.
Vicky had a sort of quiet patience and a gentle maternal air about her that I found comforting.
So very much the opposite of my own mother, and Ro had always been like an older sister/best friend more than a mother figure.
Ro and I weren’t entirely conventional, but we were family; she was my family.
And as I looked at Deacon, then at his parents, it was so obvious that they loved him unconditionally. I envied him for that. That security, that knowing in your bones that you are accepted exactly as you are.
“So Winter,” Wayne said, and I had to wonder if I’d spaced out. “How are you finding Hartbridge?”
“Oh, I love it. It’s a wonderful little town. Everyone has been so welcoming, and it’s so picturesque. Like something out of a movie.”
“It is,” Vicky said. “And your store? How are you finding it?”
“Busy,” I replied. “I expect it to slow down after the holidays, of course. But as far as my dream of having my own cozy, small-town bookstore, it’s perfect.”
“He wants to start a book club,” Deacon said. “Meeting once a month to have cake and coffee and to talk about books.”
“That’s a great idea,” Wayne said.
I nodded. “Yes, several people are interested already.”
“I told him cake wasn’t a good idea,” Deacon added, “because of crumbs and greasy fingers on the merchandise.”
“Oh.” Vicky gave me a sorry a look.
I chuckled. “No, it’s fine. He was quite right.
Cake wouldn’t be suitable. So perhaps something else.
Themed cookies like the Christmas ones I bought from the diner?
Or fun little cake pops. Something without cream frosting, anyway.
” I smiled at Deacon. “Now if only I knew someone who was really good at organizing things to help me arrange it all.”
Deacon put his fork down and smiled. “You mean me?”
I grinned, nodding. “Yes, I do.”
I noticed then that Wayne was looking between us, and he studied me for a few beats, and I suddenly felt a little too scrutinized. “Sooo,” he began, “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”
Oh god.
I cleared my throat, trying not to fidget. “Yes?”
He stared at me, very seriously, and both Deacon and Vicky were watching him.
One second.
Two seconds.
“It’s very important,” Wayne said.
I tried to smile, but pretty sure it didn’t work. “Okay.”
“What’s your favorite dinosaur?”
I blinked.
Deacon snorted and Vicky sighed.
“Favorite dinosaur?” I asked. That was not what I’d been expecting.
Wayne nodded. “I think it says a lot about a person.”
“Dad was surprised I hadn’t asked you yet,” Deacon murmured.
“You don’t have to answer,” Vicky added with a defeated sigh, as if this conversation was one they’d had often. “Not everyone has a favorite dinosaur.”
“Ankylosaurus,” I said. “My favorite dinosaur is the ankylosaurus. It has full body armor and a mace for a tail, and that’s so cool.”
Both Wayne and Vicky glanced at Deacon, and Deacon smiled at his plate before looking at his dad.
“What?” I said, trying not to panic. “Is that the wrong answer? What does it say about me if a favorite dinosaur says a lot about a person?”
Full body armor and a built-in weapon-tail didn’t mean I was defensive, did it? Or that I wished I was immune to scrutiny or insults . . . Surely that didn’t say anything about me . . .
Wayne put his hand up and shook his head. “No, no, it’s not that. It’s just . . .” His gaze went to Deacon. “The ankylosaurus is Deacon’s favorite dinosaur.”
I turned to Deacon. “It is?”
He was not doing a very good job at trying not to smile, and he gave a nod. “Yes.”