"So, I told Roxy we'd just meet her at the bar tonight," Nora mentions while helping me in unload the coffee bags from the car.

"Tonight?"

"Wells," she pauses, her tone scolding, "it's 90s night, remember? I told you I invited Roxy."

"Oh, that," I say, turning to the street and heading to the trunk of my car to grab two more bags of coffee.

And that's when I spot Juniper.

After we wrapped up our interview last night, she sprang up from the couch and immediately began packing her things.

"In a hurry to get somewhere?" I asked as I watched her quickly stuff her laptop into her bag.

"Uh, yeah, I have dinner plans with my friends," she said.

I glanced down at my phone, furrowing my brows. "At 9:30?"

"Um," she nodded hesitantly. "Yeah."

"Didn't you say you had dinner before you got here earlier?"

"Oh, did I? I don't remember," she said, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "Well, gotta run. See you Monday, Wells." Before practically bolting out the door.

I can't tell if I said something wrong or if my knee touching hers was too obvious, or maybe I'm just overthinking it.

But now, she's walking on the opposite side of the street on the sidewalk. Today, she's dressed in a cute short pink flowy dress paired with white sneakers. And I find myself watching as she approaches the bookstore, opens the door, and steps inside.

And no, I am no Joe Goldberg. This is an entirely different situation. I should know, I binge-watched almost half the season last night after Nora said something yesterday.

"Are you even listening to me?" Nora's voice snaps me back to reality.

"No. Not at all," I say setting the bags of coffee by the door and start walking toward the street.

"Wells!" She yells as I cross the street. "Where are you going?"

"Feeling things out," I say over my shoulder. "I'll be right back."

As I reach the entrance of the bookstore, I pull the handle and step inside. The familiar aroma of paper and ink surrounds me. The store is a classic, snug bookstore with narrow aisles and shelves stacked high with books. It's the kind of place that book lovers would go crazy over.

I spot a small hand basket near the entrance and pick it up, blending in with the other shoppers as I begin weaving my way through the store.

I finally lay eyes on her in the romance section. She stands there, book in hand, basket cradled in the crook of her elbow, leaning against the bookshelf. Her fingers skim through the pages, and she pauses, seemingly engrossed in a passage somewhere in the middle of the book.

Who starts reading a book halfway through the middle?

I stand there for a few seconds, silently observing her. A smile begins to form on her lips, and she attempts to conceal it by biting down gently on her lip, then flips to the next page, her eyes widening ever so slightly with intrigue.

"Barbie," I finally say, breaking the silence, causing her head to snap up in surprise. She hastily flings the book she was reading behind her, her eyes widening, and her cheeks flushing with her reaction.

"What are you doing here?" she stammers, crossing her arms against her chest.

"Well, it's a bookstore and I am a writer. The better question is, what were you reading over there?" I ask, my eyes darting to the book she hastily tossed behind her.

"I wasn't reading anything," she responds, swiftly stepping in front of me to block my view.

My brow furrows in skepticism as I gaze down into her light brown eyes. Without hesitation, I quickly sidestep her, snatching the book off the floor.

"Wells!" she exclaims as I turn the it to the front and inspect the cover.

"The Hot Doctor," I read aloud, my eyes scanning the cover featuring a shirtless, muscular guy wearing only a lab coat with a stethoscope draped around his neck. She reaches for the book, but I keep it just out of her reach.

"Wells!"

"Juniper Jenkins, are you reading porn?" I ask, looking down at her with a grin.

"Oh my god, no!" She exclaims, glancing around, her cheeks flushing like a bright red strawberry. "It's not... porn," she adds in a hushed whisper.

"Are you sure about that?" I tease as I open the book and start scanning the pages to find where she left off.

She jumps up, trying to grab the book closer to me, her body brushing against mine, sending a warm sensation coursing through me.

"'His hands explore the curves of my back down to my ass as he slowly guides me backward until the firmness of the examination table meets my backside,'" I read aloud from the book.

"Oh my god, Wells," she exclaims again, making another desperate attempt to snatch the book from my hand. "Don't read that out loud!"

"'Are you ready for your examination?" he whispers against my lips.'" I continue to read. "'He kisses me down my neck as he slowly fills me.'"

"Wells, people are staring," she whisper-yells at me. I glance over to see an elderly woman at the end of the aisle, holding a few Nicholas Sparks books, giving us a look.

I give the woman a small smile and then continue, "'My nail gripping, digging into his back. His hands are everywhere. Every nerve in my body is on fire. 'I'm so close to com...'" I trail off, my eyes widening in disbelief, as I continue to read in my head.

Holy shit. Is this what people read these days? I turn the page and continue.

Juniper jumps up once again, bringing the book down with her, and my two hands holding it follow. Inadvertently, I cage her in my arms, her back pressed against my front.

We both freeze for a moment. The sweet scent of her peachy nectar shampoo wafts into my face and envelops me, drifting into all my senses. Her body fits so snugly within the curve of mine, and in that instant, I'm acutely aware of the gentle rise and fall of her breath, mirroring the erratic rhythm of my own heartbeat. She feels so much more delicate than I thought she'd feel. Not that I've ever imagined her in my arms before...

Okay, maybe just once or twice or a handful of times.

After a few seconds, I realize that I'm still unintentionally encaging her. My grip on the book loosens, and she takes it from my hands. Slowly, she turns around and clears her throat, breaking the moment.

"I didn't know you liked books like that," I say hoping my voice doesn't sound too husky.

"I don't usually," she responds, her gaze fixed on the book.

"Mmhmm," I say, still not entirely convinced.

"What are you doing here?" she asks, brushing a piece of chestnut hair behind her ear before gently placing the book back on the shelf.

"In a bookstore?"

She nods, her gaze meeting mine. "Yeah, in a bookstore."

I shrug nonchalantly. "Well, sometimes I like reading things other than newspapers." A flicker of surprise dances in her eyes as she looks up at me.

"Hmm. I never pegged you as a book reader," she replies, turning to the shelf she had been perusing and casually selecting three less explicit romance novels, tossing them into her hand-basket.

"And I never took you for an erotic novel reader," I tease.

She rolls her eyes and then reaches for another two books from the opposite end of the bookshelf.

"You know, you shop for books like you're grocery shopping," I say with a smirk, plucking a book titled 'Rock Hard' and tossing it into her basket.

She furrows her brows, a hint of amusement in her eyes, as she removes the book from her basket and returns it to the shelf.

"Yeah, well, I'm a fast reader," she says before walking away. I take the book again and slip it back into her basket.

"So, what kind of books do you read then? Sci-fi?" She laughs as she pauses in front of another aisle, turning towards me. Her eyes widen with curiosity. "Oh no, are you like a self-help kinda guy?"

I tilt my head back and let out a hearty laugh. "No, definitely not self-help books," I say as she turns to browse the books.

She picks one up, her expression curious. "Well then, enlighten me, Wells. What do you read?" She tosses the book into my basket and then walks away.

I look down at the book she put in my basket, 'Emotional Intelligence For Dummies.' I can't help but smile.

"I like biographies, actually," I confess, catching up to her.

She stops abruptly, turning toward me with a sly smile and a teasing roll of her eyes. "Oh god, of course, you like biographies."

I raise an eyebrow at her and ask, "You don't like them?"

"Oh, I love them," She says with mock enthusiasm as I scan the shelf. "Especially when I can't fall asleep and need help." Playfully mimicking sticking her finger down her throat.

"How do you not like biographies?" I ask, tossing 'What to Expect When You're Expecting' into her basket.

"They're just so boring. I'd much rather read something fictional and actually interesting."

"Like erotica?"

She laughs. "No, not like erotica."

"I don't know, Juniper. I think biographies are much more interesting than something fictional."

"Okay fine then, name three biographies that are better than a romance novel," she challenges me as we move down another aisle.

"Alright," I begin, considering her taste as I turn towards a table of books. I throw 'Long Hard Ride' into her basket, but she quickly takes it and puts it back.

"Spare by Prince Harry," I suggest, but she scrunches her nose in disapproval, clearly not a fan of the idea.

"Already watched his Netflix show. How much more could I possibly learn?" She shrugs as I toss in another book, 'Claim Me,' but she promptly removes it from her basket and places it in mine.

"Okay, Steve Jobs," I offer, and she reacts with a fake expression of disgust.

"Boring," she says, walking backward to face me.

I grab 'Nauti Nights' and throw it into her basket. She grabs a book called 'How to Stop Feeling Like Shit' and slides it into mine.

"I'm Glad My Mom Died by Jennette McCurdy," She pauses, clearly considering it.

"Hmm. I don't know, I kinda like my mom," she muses as she watches me toss 'Book Lovers' into her basket, and she decides to keep it.

I chuckle and ask, "Juniper, you're a writer for a newspaper. How do you not like biographies? It's real life." I glance at the book I just added to her basket. "You like that one?"

She smiles. "I've already read it. It's amazing."

A smile tugs at my lips. I grab the book from her basket, give it a quick look, and place it in mine. I look up to see her with a small smirk, studying my face briefly before she turns to walk away.

I follow her as she makes her way towards the cash register, unable to resist the question that's been nagging me, "If you don't enjoy reading real-life stories, why work for a newspaper where all you do is write about real life?"

Juniper lifts her basket on the counter and begins separating the books into two piles. "I don't know, it's just different."

I shake my head. "No, It's really not that different."

She looks at the cashier. "Actually, these are his books," and slides a pile in my direction.

"Unless you secretly don't like writing?"

She scoffs. "Of course, I like writing."

"But you don't enjoy writing for newspapers."

She rolls her eyes and then I push it further, "So, what is it you want to write then? Erotica?" She hands her credit card to the cashier, and her cheeks turn a shade of pink.

"Do you really want to know what I want to write?" She asks, turning toward me.

I nod. "Yes, I do."

She leans in close to me, a smirk tugs on her lips as she whispers, "I want to write all the articles you've stolen from me over the last year."

But she doesn't pull back, and my eyes shift back and forth between her two honey-brown ones. There's an undeniable tension in the air that makes it hard to look away and even harder not to look down at her lips. Her smirk wavers ever so slightly as she holds my gaze, her throat visibly swallowing.

"Ahem," the cashier clears his throat, pulling our attention away from each other. "All set," he says.

Juniper turns slowly to collect the bags of books the cashier hands to her. "Thank you."

And then she heads for the exit, glancing back at me briefly. "Bye, Wells," she says, her voice softening. She opens the door to the bookstore and steps out, passing by the window and out of sight.

"Do you really want these books?" The cashier asks, redirecting my attention. I turn to him as he looks perplexed by the selection of books in my basket.

"Uh, no," I say, looking at them. "I'll just take these two."

Notes

Thoughts on this chapter?

Interestingly, this was the first chapter I wrote for this book.
Anyone else write in weird orders? Or just me?

Get ready, because 90s night is coming up!

VThank you everyone for reading, commenting, and voting! ❤️