Cant Take My Eyes Off You – Libby Waterford #2
I think a while back Madison told me Mav was dating someone who was in med school or something. Would it be weird to ask him about her? No, right? He asked me about my relationship status. I take a breath. “And how are things going with your girlfriend?”
He makes his confused puppy face again. Where does he get off being both adorable and the dictionary definition of sizzling hot? “I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“Oh,” I say again. This is truly the strangest conversation I’ve had in a while.
I’ve known him since I was born, but I’ve never spent this long talking with him.
About our relationships, no less. Or lack of them.
I feel like I’m missing something, but my phone pings and I lift the books I’m carrying. “I better check these out.”
“Sure.” He moves aside so I can walk toward the checkout desk. An older man stands behind the computer there.
“Hi,” I say brightly. “I’m not sure if I have a card on file, but I was hoping I could check these out.”
He looks at me over the top of his glasses. “Name?”
Before I can answer, someone else does for me. “Aurora!”
“Hi, Aunt Mimi,” I say to the brightly dressed woman with the curly brown hair that rocks a cool gray streak who’s walking up to me. She’s married to Nash Speedwell, another one of the original stars of Sawyer’s Cove . I hug my surrogate aunt and give her a smile.
“What on earth are you doing here? I thought you’d be busy with the convention. And Maverick—you’re all grown up and as handsome as your dad,” Mimi says, hugging him, too. She looks between us, and I wonder what she’s thinking.
“I only came in for a second and got tempted by your collection,” I confess. “But I do need to get back to the con. Can you please help me?”
“Forgot your library card?”
“I don’t know if I actually have one.”
“I do.” I turn to look at Mav. He’s holding up a plastic card, a black leather wallet in the other hand. “Use mine.”
I hesitate. “Are you sure?” There’s something oddly intimate about him checking out library books for me. “What if I don’t return them?” I tease.
“We’re a no-fine library,” Mimi reminds me. “He just won’t be able to check out anything new until you bring those back.”
“Don’t worry,” he says, “I trust you.” And then he winks at me, and I really hope I’m not blushing because it feels like I am, but it would be totally stupid to blush over something like this. It’s not like it means anything, him coming to my rescue and all.
“In that case—thanks,” I reply, resisting the urge to press my hands over my cheeks to check if they’re as hot as they feel. He passes the card to the man behind the desk, who appears utterly unimpressed by the entire exchange.
“I have to get back to work, but I suppose I’ll see you at Jay and Cami’s at the end of the weekend,” Mimi says.
“The barbecue—right. I’ll be there.” I look at Maverick. He’s not exactly one of the Sawyer’s Cove nepo babies, but he’d totally be invited. “Mav can come, too, right?”
“Of course. The more the merrier. Dawson and Audrey will be there, so you won’t be the only young people,” she adds, mentioning her and Nash’s two kids, who are a little older than me. “Bye, party people.” Mimi’s gone again in a flash of color and motion.
“These are due back in three weeks,” the man behind the counter says, pushing the stack of books toward me.
“Thanks.”
“Here, let me.” Before I can stop him, Mav scoops the books up and walks me to the front entrance. “Where to?”
“I can carry my own books,” I say as we push outside, where the hot, humid July sun instantly makes me miss the library’s air conditioning.
“I know,” he says without giving them back to me. “Where to?” he repeats.
Apparently, I’m stuck with my oldest crush as an escort. My inner teenager’s jumping up and down on a bed while I outwardly rely on whatever acting chops I have to seem chill. “The inn. Mom’s got a panel this afternoon, and I need to make sure she’s had lunch.”
“What about your lunch?” he asks as we start walking up Main Street. “Have you eaten?”
I think about the pastry I inhaled hours ago. “Um. Not exactly.”
“Everywhere in town is going to be packed now,” he says, “but we could get takeout and go to the beach house.”
I want to agree to his spontaneous plan, but I really do have to help my mom. “I shouldn’t,” I say reluctantly. “I’ve already spent too much time at the library.”
“What about dinner tonight?” he asks. “I could make something.”
“You cook?” I ask before I realize who I’m talking to. His dad owns a string of glamorous restaurants that serve incredible food. “I mean?—”
“I cook a little,” he says, unoffended. “Dad made me and Maddy learn the basics. I make a pretty good chicken piccata.”
“Why?”
“Uh—I like capers?”
“No, I mean, why do you want to have dinner with me?” There. I said it.
“Oh.” He shifts the stack of books to one hand as if they weigh nothing and rubs the back of his neck once more. Again, I get the feeling I’m missing something here.
My phone pings repeatedly and since my hands are free, I pull it from the outer pocket of my shoulder bag and glance at the screen. Mom.
“I have to get this,” I say.
We step out of the flow of pedestrian traffic on Main Street into the shade of a leafy maple. “Hi, Mom.”
“Sweetheart, light of my life, where on earth are you? Your dad said you left him ages ago.”
“Sorry, I got distracted. But I’m on my way back to the inn.”
“Distracted by what?”
I look at Maverick, who’s standing a few feet away, looking away as if to give me privacy, but I know he can hear everything I’m saying. “I’ll tell you later.”
“Mysterious, I love it. But sugar sweetie pie, I need you here now. There’s a falafel wrap with your name on it here, too.”
“Oh good, I’m starving. On my way.”
“Love you.”
My mom never ends so much as a text without a declaration of love. I tell her I love her, too, and hang up.
“I really have to go,” I say to Mav, oddly sorry to have to leave him. “I’ll take my books.”
He hands them back slowly. “So—dinner. Meet me at the house when you get off convention duty.”
Mom was right—Mav is being mysterious. “I’m supposed to help at the benefit concert tonight.”
“I’ll drive you to the concert after,” he says.
Why is he being so persistent? “All right.”
He opens his mouth as if he’s going to say something else, but then he closes it again and I’m oddly disappointed.
“Gotta go,” I whisper, and I take off down the street without looking back. Even though everything in me wants to.
Chapter 2
Operation: Ask Aurora Out is not exactly going the way I thought it would.
Probably because I didn’t fully think this through. I’m acting on impulse, which I never do. I’m just scared to miss my chance with the coolest, prettiest girl I’ve ever met, and it’s making me sloppy.
I’ve been running on adrenaline and vibes since I talked to my sister a couple of days ago and she casually mentioned that Aurora had broken up with her long-time boyfriend.
I’d almost dropped the mocha latte I had just ordered at my favorite coffee shop all over my laptop.
Aurora Tulip Saylor being single was big news, and my sister had moved right on to her impromptu trip to Maine with her latest crush—as if she hadn’t just turned my world inside out and upside down.
The thing is, I’ve liked Aurora for a long time.
She and my little sister were thick as thieves growing up, but we were too far apart in age to really be friends.
When Aurora went to a university in the city, and I ended up there after college trying to carve my own path in the world—with mixed results—we’d see each other around.
It is hard not to notice how beautiful she grew up to be.
She’s fair, like her mom, with the same big gray eyes, although with her dad’s straight brown hair.
I know she used to lament not inheriting her mother’s auburn hair, but since my mom’s a redhead as well, I’m not too upset about the lack of similarity.
More than just being uncommonly pretty, Aurora’s whip-smart and hard working.
She could have ridden her parents’ coattails and gotten a job at a production company or tried her hand at acting.
Anyone would jump to give a chance to the gorgeous daughter of one of the most successful TV show creators and actresses in history.
But she went to college, pushed herself to do it on her own. I admire the hell out of that.
And this is my chance to actually tell her some of this stuff. In my infinite wisdom, I didn’t think it would be so hard. I figured I’d play it cool, go to Misty Harbor, text her to plan a meetup. Casually float the idea that maybe we should go out on a date sometime.
My plan went to shit when I got to Misty Harbor this morning and saw her run into the library.
The only thing I could think about was being near her.
The idea of asking her out seemed somehow ludicrous.
For one thing, I didn’t count on her being so busy.
The zaniness of Harbor Fest and the convention didn’t factor into my plans.
Then there’s the fact that her mom and my mom are best friends.
I hadn’t quite thought through the implications of this, either.
But it’s hard to think rationally when the sight of her turns my breathing shallow and sends my blood pumping double time.
At least I managed to get her to agree to dinner. Operation: Ask Aurora Out isn’t a total failure—yet.
I battle the unusually heavy fest-related traffic to stop at the store for ingredients. My parents keep a fully stocked bar at the beach house, so I don’t bother getting any alcohol. That leaves the entire afternoon to prep—and pace.
I talk myself out of saying anything, then talk myself back into it.
It would be a big deal for our families if we got together.
I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t take this chance.
Maybe she wants to be single for a while after breaking up with that other guy.