Chapter 13
SUMMER
I let myself wander into the secondhand bookstore even though I know I won’t be purchasing anything.
My studio apartment doesn’t have space for a bunch of books, and with my graduate program, I don’t actually have time to read for fun right now.
But I love the smell of bookstores, and I like to keep a never-ending list of books I’d like to get around to reading one day.
I should be running errands. I am dangerously low on food in my apartment and had to eat stale toast for breakfast this morning.
But I love this bookstore. There are books everywhere.
The only two windows are at the front of the shop; the rest of the walls are covered in floor-to-ceiling bookshelves.
The smell of leather, ink, and worn, yellowed paper greets me as I make my way through the shelves.
I love the stacks of extra books on the floor, and the tables piled high with the newest releases, but my absolute favorite part of the store? They have two black cats. The best reading buddies.
I find one near the romances up on a cat tree and scratch her behind the ears, knowing it’ll make Milo grumpy later, but unable to help myself. I give her one last pet before continuing on my mission around the store.
I trail my hand along the spines of books as I make my way to the classics section. I’m not really picky when it comes to my literature, but I am a sucker for the classics.
A beautiful copy of The Great Gatsby catches my eye, and I can’t help but pick it up and flip through its pages.
It’s bound in soft blue leather with gorgeous silver foil decorating the cover.
It’s practically in pristine condition, and it physically hurts me to even consider setting it back on the shelf.
“I wouldn’t have pinned you as a Gatsby girl,” a deep voice says behind me, making me jump. I place a hand to my chest as I turn and see Asher grinning at me. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were so caught up.”
“I love this story,” I say defensively, clutching the novel to my chest.
He cocks his head to the side. “Any particular reason why?”
“It gives an amazing view into human nature, it’s an incredible time in American history, and it is one of the best classic, tragic love stories.
” I could go on and on about The Great Gatsby, but if he didn’t enjoy it when he originally read it, I doubt he’ll enjoy it now.
“And I think the true villain of the story is Daisy, yet not enough people recognize that,” I add, unable to help myself.
“Interesting,” he murmurs. “You don’t think it’s Gatsby himself?”
I scoff. “Compared to everything Daisy did?”
“One could argue that Gatsby was equally at fault.”
“Daisy is the most destructive character and the whole reason multiple people died,” I respond curtly.
It isn’t until I catch a hint of a smile playing across his lips that I figure out he’s playing with me.
I close my eyes and let out a laugh, slightly embarrassed that he watched me get so worked up over a book.
I’ve always loved discussing literature, but I rarely have the opportunity to do so.
He gives me an amused grin. “It’s sweet that you care so much.” I roll my eyes at him, and he continues. “I’m serious. Not many people your age care so deeply about literature.”
“Oh, God,” I snort. “Way to age yourself there.”
He shoves his hands in his pockets as I gently place the book back on the shelf. “You’re not going to get it?” he asks curiously.
I shake my head. “While I love this whole ‘special edition’ thing the book community has going on, I don’t have almost forty dollars to spend on a book I’ve already read multiple times.”
He glances back at the book before giving me a small smile. “Education should be free,” he muses.
“Preaching to the choir, my friend,” I huff out a laugh.
I give the book one last longing look before turning toward the exit.
“Well, I have some grocery shopping to do. It was nice running into you, Asher.” His smile falls at the sound of his name, and I want to smack myself upside the head. “Sorry, Professor Stirling.”
“Summer,” he starts hesitantly.
I stop him before this gets any more embarrassing for me. “Ms. Nyx is fine.” I clear my throat. “Have a nice day, Professor.” I dart away and can feel his gaze burning into my back all the way out of the store.
My phone rings once I’m out on the sidewalk, giving me an excuse not to look back over my shoulder to see if Asher tried to follow me.
“Hello?” I answer.
“Summer,” my mother’s voice greets me. “I was just calling to confirm our plans for Thanksgiving.”
I resist the urge to sigh. Of course, she’s trying to ensure I make it home. She has to confirm it multiple times, and over text simply wouldn’t do.
“Yes, Mom, I’m still planning on heading over on Wednesday, spending Thanksgiving dinner with you, and then heading home Friday or Saturday.
” Friday, if she annoys the hell out of me, Saturday, if she can keep it all reigned in for a few days.
“Speaking of Thanksgiving plans,” I continue before my mother can say anything.
“Dinner will be just us, right? No surprise guests or last-minute add-ons?”
“Of course, Summer,” my mother responds. “That is what we discussed.”
I roll my eyes. “Just wanted to make sure.”
“The whole time will be just us two,” she reassures me.
“Thanks, Mom, I’m excited to spend some time with you,” I say, and am slightly surprised to realize that I really do mean it.
She continues to rattle on about the women in the neighborhood and all the gossip that’s happened since we last spoke—surprisingly, it’s a lot.
I stroll around the block a few times, passing my car, so that I can spend more time talking to my mother.
She’s simple, easy to understand. Predictable. Unlike other people…
The next day, I’m one of the last people out of Asher’s class, and he stops by my desk as I’m packing everything up.
I don’t expect it. We’ve been trying to keep our distance from each other since the whole Halloween debacle.
The short conversation at the bookstore felt like a one-off.
Either we’re trying to rip each other’s clothes off, or trying to resist yelling at each other.
I let my gaze drift slowly up his black slacks and dark green button-up—which he’s, of course, rolled to his forearms, revealing toned arms with corded muscle. His hair looks mussed, like he’s been running his hands through it repeatedly, though I didn’t notice him doing it during class.
“You left this behind the other day, Ms. Nyx,” he murmurs, placing something on my desk and quickly walking back to the front of the classroom. His voice danced around my last name, teasing and obviously referring to when I corrected him yesterday.
I watch him, waiting for him to turn back toward me.
He stops at his desk, his back still to me, muscles taught, as if he’s physically holding himself back from looking at me.
He places his hands on the dark wood, digging his nails into the desk.
He drops his head with a sigh, and it is going to take all my self-control not to check the desk for delicate crescent-shaped marks when everyone is gone.
Finally, he lifts his head as he loses the battle and turns.
I bite my lip as my gaze meets his vivid green eyes, which darken in response, trailing along my bottom lip caught between my teeth. He takes a step forward before another student crosses the classroom, getting his attention.
I’m stunned by the brief encounter, considering that we really haven’t been interacting with each other unless we have to—well, besides the bookshop yesterday.
I look down and see the copy of The Great Gatsby that I had been admiring in the bookstore.
My eyes snap up to his, astonished. The student had clearly asked whatever question they’d had and dashed out the door.
Asher is back at his desk, like nothing happened.
He’s not even watching me for my reaction.
He really is acting like I randomly left some book behind after one of his classes.
My fingers trace the delicate foil title on the soft blue leather.
Everyone has filtered out of the classroom at this point, but I can’t help myself; I flip through the pages and stop on one of the first. On the title page, I recognize the same clipped, neat handwriting that has scrawled across my Counseling Theories essays.
I never understood Gatsby’s obsession with the green light.
Until now.
My head jerks up to look at Asher again, but he’s already gone.