The Bookworm Crush

by Lisa Brown Roberts

  She’d managed to fire off a “be there soon” text to Viv in response to Viv’s text of a string of emojis and questions marks, along with a photo of the yarn-bombed bench.

  “You need to finish your chores before you go anywhere,” Mom said to Brayden.

  “Ugh,” Brayden groaned. “I have more chores than any of my friends. Trash, recycling, and litter box? It’s…it’s…inhuman.”

  “True.” Amy side-eyed Brayden. “You’re much more animal than human. Lazy like a sloth.”

  He pointed his butter knife at her. “And you’re like a cat, creeping around in the middle of the night—”

  “Just once, I’d like to enjoy a Saturday morning breakfast with my sweet and loving children,” Mom interrupted. “Children who happily contribute to the family by doing a few chores.”

  Brayden clutched his throat and made a gagging noise. Mom winked at Amy. Even though Mom was stressed about Dad being out of work, she liked teasing Brayden, who overreacted to everything.

  “I’m hanging out at the bookstore with Viv,” Amy said, closing the dishwasher and wiping her hands on a dish towel.

  “Great! You can drop me off at the beach.” Brayden’s eyebrows lifted meaningfully. “So I can surf.”

  “No way.” The last thing she needed was to delay her arrival to the bookstore and risk encountering Toff at the beach.

  “Not so fast, Bray,” Mom said. “Chores first. And you need to walk Goldilocks.”

  Their sleepy golden retriever thumped her tail on the floor under the kitchen table.

  “B-But that’s not—”

  “Don’t you dare say the F-word, Brayden,” Mom warned.

  Amy giggled, because in their house the F-word was “fair.”

  “What about Amy’s chores?” Brayden protested.

  “I’m done.” She grabbed her backpack from the coatrack. If her brother would just do stuff instead of whining, his life would be so much easier.

  “See you later,” she said, backing out of the kitchen.

  “Honey, can you pick up Brayden at the beach later today?” Mom asked. “I’ll drop him off on my way to the herbal store.”

  Amy frowned. She wasn’t in the mood to be Brayden’s Uber driver.

  Mom unleashed her guilt-inducing sigh, and Amy gave in easily, like she always did.

  “Fine.” She pointed at Brayden. “But you have to leave when I say so. And no harassing other surfers for lessons.” She couldn’t handle any more embarrassment when it came to Toff.

  Her brother rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

  “Tell Natasha hi for me,” Amy said, grabbing the car keys from the hook.

  Brayden squished his lips into another exaggerated kiss as she left the kitchen, but she ignored him.

  As she drove away, she cringed, mentally reliving her pathetic attempt at fake PDA with Toff. She pressed on the gas, hoping Toff was still out surfing with the dawn patrol instead of swinging by the bookstore to entertain Viv with his version of kniffiti gone bad. If she was lucky, she could completely avoid him for the rest of the summer and pretend kniffiti night never happened.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Amy flushed with pride when she saw people taking photos of her yarn-bombed bench on Main Street. In the light of day, the multicolored knitted squares glowed, along with the bright-orange crocheted poppies wrapped around the bench arms. She wanted to take her Instagram photos, but talking to Viv was her first priority.

  She wasn’t surprised to see Dallas’s Vespa scooter parked in front of the bookstore. Until he left for college in August, he and Amy had to share custody of Viv. Luckily, Viv never played favorites between her best friend and her boyfriend.

  Amy entered the store, the bells strung on the door announcing her arrival.

  “Hey, girl!” Viv’s deep brown eyes sparkled with excitement as she came out from behind the counter. She wore a Major League Reading T-shirt and jeans that fit her curvy figure perfectly. “Looks like you did something sneaky in the middle of the night,” Viv said. “Something you forgot to tell me about, involving needles and yarn.”

  She glanced around the store, worried about eavesdroppers, but no one was there except Dallas, who emerged from the sci-fi and fantasy aisle, smiling at Amy from behind his hipster black-framed glasses. He wore his usual outfit—shorts and a nerdy T-shirt. Today’s shirt said, Never trust an atom. They make up everything.

  “I didn’t forget,” Amy said to Viv. “I knew you’d see the bench this morning, and I wanted to surprise you.” And impress you, she thought, crossing her fingers in hopes Toff would stay far, far away from the bookstore today.

  “It was a great surprise,” Viv said, grinning broadly. “Nice homage to Lucinda, by the way. Those poppies match her new book cover exactly. It’s perfect for the first contest challenge.”

  Amy flushed with pride and relief. Maybe she could salvage last night after all. Maybe Toff would keep his mouth shut. Maybe he wanted to pretend it never happened, too.

  Viv’s grin turned devious. “I’m glad you survived your yarn-bombing adventure.” She twisted a glossy brown curl around her finger, blinking innocently. “Police, bomb threats. Sharp weapons.”

  “And a rescue by some dude in a van.” Dallas drummed his fingers on the counter and smirked. “From rabid raccoons.”

  Ugh. Air whooshed out of her as she deflated like a popped balloon. Toff had gotten to Viv first after all. And he’d blabbed to Dallas, too.

  “Why didn’t you text me? Or call me?” Viv demanded.

  “I didn’t want to interrupt your date night with a bunch of freak-out texts.” Besides, deconstructing last night was an in-person, full-bowl-of-M&M’s conversation. “I hoped Toff wouldn’t be a blabbermouth,” Amy grumbled. She sank into an overstuffed chair in the cozy reading circle and dug her yarn and needles out of her backpack. Knitting was her stress relief.

  “He only told me,” Dallas said, still smirking. “And I told Viv. Accidentally. I assumed you’d already told her.”

  “Flipper can’t keep a secret to save his life,” Viv said with a shrug.

  Dallas nodded. “He’s worse than any girl I know.”

  “Hey! Don’t be sexist.” Viv smacked Dallas playfully on his shoulder. He didn’t flinch, looking at her like she was the sun and he was Icarus, though Amy knew Dallas was smart enough to swerve before his wings burst into flames.

  “Does the whole town know?” she asked Dallas.

  “No one else knows you two pulled a Bonnie and Clyde.” He grinned. “That’s what Toff called your escape from the cops.”

  Amy blinked, pausing her knitting. “He did?”

  “Honestly, I’m shocked he even knows who they are,” Viv said.

  “Hey, no smack talk,” Dallas protested. “He’s smarter than he lets on.”

  Amy and Viv shared a look. It was cute to watch Dallas defend the other half of his bromance. They’d secretly dubbed Toff and Dallas their favorite BROTP, followed closely by all of Chris Hemsworth’s bromances, which were legion.

  The bell on the door jingled, and the topic of conversation walked in, making Amy’s pulse stutter.

  So much for avoiding him the rest of the summer.

  Toff flashed a grin. “Oh, hey, Ames. I didn’t know you’d be here.” He juggled three plastic cups. “You can have my smoothie if you want. I can grab another one.”

  “No thanks. I already had breakfast.” She was proud of herself for sounding casual. Even though she was annoyed with Toff for blabbing, her heart had melted into a puddle of sparkles when he offered her his smoothie.

  That was the problem with crushes—they weren’t rational. Rational was Dallas’s forte, not hers. She was a romantic, through and through.

  Toff handed a smoothie to Viv and another to Dallas, then parked himself in the chair next to Amy. If she wanted
to reach out and touch him, she could. Which she would not.

  He gestured to her knitting project and slanted her a wicked grin. “You getting ready for another brush with the law, Bonnie? I don’t know about you, but I had freaky nightmares about gangster raccoons coming at me with knitting sticks.” His grin deepened, showcasing his dimples. “I Googled ‘kniffiti.’ You can get twenty years to life for that shit.” He tilted his cup toward her in a mock salute. “Hard-core, Ames. Hard. Core.”

  So much for her sparkly puddle of crush goo. Right now she wanted to stab him with her knitting needles.

  “Shut up, Flipper,” Viv snapped. “Amy’s bench is awesome. All you did was drive the getaway van. She’s the artist.”

  Toff rolled his eyes at Viv, then aimed his full-power wattage at Amy again. “The bench looks great. I already selfied with it.” He made exaggerated air quotes. “Hashtag Raccoon Rebel. Hashtag Bonnie and Clyde.”

  Was he mocking her or just having fun? Amy’s cheeks burned, but she stiffened her spine, determined not to be rendered mute by a pair of sky-blue eyes and dimples so deep she could stash an M&M in each one. “You forgot Hashtag Curfews Are for Losers. Clyde.”

  Everyone laughed, Toff the loudest of all.

  “You never told me what type of contest you almost went to jail for,” he said, a challenging smirk quirking his lips. “If you win, you should split the cash with me, since I saved you from the slammer.”

  “It’s not that type of contest,” Amy said, frustration and embarrassment battling for top position. “No cash prize.”

  Toff tilted his head, frowning slightly. “What’s the prize, then? A trophy? Like gold knitting sticks or whatever?”

  Amy shot him an eye roll. She wasn’t used to this much attention from Toff, especially in a twelve-hour span, but right now she was more annoyed than twitterpated. “The prize is an interview with my favorite author, Lucinda Amorrato.”

  Toff blinked. “What?”

  She bit her lip, reluctant to go into details he’d just tease her about. “Lucinda’s publisher is having a social media contest. There are three challenges, and anyone can enter. Lucinda picks the winner, who gets to meet her. I’m posting a photo of the bench for the first one.”

  Assuming she went through with entering the contest. She was starting to doubt herself. If she couldn’t pull off preparations for challenge one without a rescue, how could she possibly complete the other challenges? Thankfully, she had Viv. Amy would gladly let her take over the planning.

  Toff chewed on his smoothie straw, then spoke around it. “So Lucinda’s, what? An extreme knitter? And that’s why you yarn bombed the bench? The best knitter wins?”

  Amy gaped at him, and Viv heaved an extra-loud sigh. “Don’t strain your brain, Flipper. It’s a bookworm thing. You wouldn’t understand.”

  Toff shot Viv a stink eye.

  “What’s everyone doing today?” Dallas asked. He tossed a hacky sack at Toff, who broke his stare down with Viv to catch it. Amy smiled at Dallas, grateful for his obvious attempt to change the subject.

  “Working,” Viv said with a resigned sigh as Hiddles, her cranky cat named after Tom Hiddleston, snaked around Dallas’s ankles. Hiddles hated everyone except Dallas.

  “Surfing.” Toff stretched out his muscled, tanned legs, and Amy tried not to stare. “I hit the waves early this morning, but I’ll go back out again soon. I need to train for the Summer Spectacular if I want to win.”

  Dallas snorted. “Didn’t you already win it three times?”

  Toff shrugged. “Why stop at three?”

  “We need a box to stuff your ego in.” Viv shook her head in fake disgust. “Now that I’m about to become your sister, I’m allowed to harass you even more.”

  The grin disappeared from Toff’s face.

  Amy’s hands froze mid–purl stitch. “Wait, what?”

  “What Viv said,” Toff said flatly.

  Viv frowned at him. “Hey. You okay, Flipper?” She sank onto the cozy, worn love seat across from Toff, and Dallas joined her.

  Toff blinked and cleared his throat. “I’m good. Just, you know, adjusting to the idea of having to actually be related to you, Wordworm.” He smiled, but it was forced.

  Amy could tell, since she’d spent a lot of time analyzing his smiles over the years.

  “I think it’s awesome,” Dallas said. “Your dad and Viv’s mom are great together.”

  Amy gaped at Viv. “Wait. Your mom’s getting married?” She glanced at Toff. “To your dad?”

  “Yep. I’m stuck with Wordworm forever.”

  She took a minute to process this news. She knew about their parents dating, but marriage? Wow. “When did this happen?”

  “I just found out last night.” Viv glanced at Toff. “Apparently they decided to tell us at the same time. Separately.”

  Toff nodded. “My dad bribed me with a grilled steak.”

  Dallas laughed, but his eyebrows knotted when Toff didn’t join in.

  “You’re okay with this, right?” Viv asked Toff. “You ignored my royal wedding meme texts this morning. I mean, it’s obvious they’re gaga over each other. It’s kind of embarrassing, really.”

  Toff shrugged. “Yeah. It just surprised me.”

  Amy could tell he was hiding something. “When’s the wedding?” she asked.

  “They’re waiting until next fall,” Toff said.

  “My mom said they wanted to give us time to get used to the idea.” Viv shrugged. “They spend every weekend together, so it won’t be much different.” She shot Toff a grin. “And this way we don’t have to live together senior year and fight over chores.”

  Toff smirked at Viv. “That would’ve sucked, especially because I’m never touching a litter box.”

  “Don’t listen to him, Hiddles,” Dallas stage-whispered to Viv’s cat curled on his lap. “He’s a monster.”

  Amy studied Toff. He was saying the right things and the sexy grin was back in place, but she sensed an unspoken tension. Not toward Viv—she knew he already thought of her as a sister. No, it had to be about the marriage.

  Well, she was a champion of romance and the official co-leader of the Lonely Hearts Book Club. Maybe she should use her expertise to help.

  “I’ll be right back.” She jumped up and headed for the romance section, which she knew like the back of her hand.

  She glanced at the fun romance display shelf she and Viv changed regularly. The current display was summer vacation romance. They’d featured a couple of road trip books and several books with surfer heroes. Amy had picked those and Viv had teased her mercilessly. Whatever. They were awesome books.

  Amy perused the shelves with books organized by subgenre and author name. She grabbed one of her favorites, a Sound of Music retelling featuring a widower hero and the governess who wins his heart. Amy sighed happily. She’d read that book at least three times.

  Viv’s mom wasn’t a governess and they didn’t live in the 1820s, but still. The book was amazing, showing the emotional journey of a man who thought he’d never love again. Toff’s dad was a widower, so it wasn’t totally off base.

  She plucked another book off the shelf—Redo in the Rockies, a modern story about two people who reconnected at a high school reunion. That might work better, since it was set in a small town like Shady Cove. The hero was a billionaire who’d come home to take care of his sick mom. Toff’s dad was a retired pro surfer who made custom surfboards. Amy shrugged. Close enough.

  A burst of laughter from the front of the store caught her attention. Dallas was demonstrating martial arts moves with Toff as his victim, trapping him in a headlock.

  “Hey, guys, knock it off,” Viv said through her laughter. “Customers about to beam aboard.”

  The guys stopped attacking each other, still laughing. Viv was a Star Trek nerd, as was Dallas. Amy
smiled, remembering how Viv had won over Dallas in the most adorable, geeky way ever, captured on YouTube for eternity. Three hundred thousand thumbs-up votes didn’t lie.

  Toff plopped back into his chair as a family with two small children entered the store and Viv hurried to greet them. He grinned at Amy. “I would’ve beat him if Viv hadn’t stopped us.”

  “In your dreams, dude,” Dallas scoffed. Outmaneuvering Dallas was one skill Amy knew Toff didn’t have. The two of them had a running bet about who had more trophies: Toff for surfing or Dallas for martial arts.

  Amy took a breath, then held out the books. “Here. You should read these.”

  Toff’s eyes widened as he stared at the covers, but he made no move to take the books. He glanced at Dallas, panic flashing across his face.

  “If Amy’s recommending them, they must be good.” Dallas pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “She and Viv are experts. I would know.”

  She beamed. Last fall, Dallas had spent weeks designing inventory software for the bookstore and become familiar with the stock, whether he wanted to or not. He’d also accidentally crashed a Lonely Hearts Book Club meeting and gotten a sneak peek into the rabid intensity of romance readers.

  “Um, thanks, Ames.” Toff blinked at Amy and cleared his throat. “But I don’t read novels.”

  It was true she’d never seen him with a book, and it was also true this was his greatest flaw, as far as she could tell. Well, that and his cockiness, though that was understandable, given his talent. Not reading novels? She’d never get that.

  Unfortunately, a lot of the guys she knew didn’t read fiction, which bothered her, but if she made that a deal breaker, she’d never date anyone. She took another deep breath and called upon her bookish strength.

  “I know you don’t read much, but these books are relevant to your situation.”

  Toff side-eyed the book covers. “I, uh, don’t think—” He held a fist to his mouth, just like last night when he’d tried to stuff his laughter.

  “Keep selling it, Amy.” Dallas sucked through his smoothie straw, then pointed his cup at Toff. “Books save lives.”