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“Oh, I’m kidding,” he says. “Please. Allow me a chance to give it a good and fair looksee.”
I deflate as I settle down, but I’m far from relaxed. Oliver flips it over again, eying the blurb before running his finger down the heavily creased spine.
“This really is your favorite,” he says.
“Yeah,” I answer.
“How many times have you read this?”
“More than I can remember.” I shrug, trying not to look too embarrassed about it. “I like to travel with it.”
“Like a security blanket?”
“Kind of. It just... makes me smile, I guess.”
Oliver looks at me again, his eyes targeting my lips for a moment. “Really?”
I nod. “It’s funny. And sweet. You know, without being too cheesy.”
He hums in response. Then, he settles back in his seat and opens the book to page one. I wait a moment, cautiously leaning forward as his eyes march back and forth along the page.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“I’m reading,” he says.
“Uh, no. No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Why?”
“Because we’ve still got an hour to kill here and I’m bored.”
“Well, if you’re bored—” I reach for the book only to have him yank it away again. “Just read something on your phone!”
“But I want to read this.”
“Why?” I ask again.
“Because it’s your favorite book. And if we’re going to be friends, then I want to read it, too.”
I study him as he focuses on the page again. Relaxed posture. Soft eyes. He doesn’t even acknowledge the flight attendant as he passes by again.
“Fine,” I say. “But don’t dog-ear any of the pages,” I add, stiff words of warning.
“I won’t.”
“And don’t judge it by the man-chest cover. It’s actually very deep.”
“I’m sure it is.”
I shift in my seat, still unable to relax as he practically holds a piece of my soul in his hands. “And don’t?—”
“Shh,” he whispers as he turns a page with a smirk. “I’m reading.”
I close my mouth as my smile grows.
CHAPTER 12
