Under A Paper Moon |N.H|

4

"You got his number!"

I toss a hand over my face, hiding the red tint that I was sure was filling my cheeks.

"I don't know what I was thinking!" I shout back, shaking my head against my hand. Everything happened so fast, I didn't even process that I had his phone number in my hand until I was tucking it into my pocket as I left the store.

Why do I feel embarrassed by this? I know I shouldn't. It went well. I felt confident, and he certainly was too. But even with that in mind, why do I feel my stomach churning?

"You were thinking that he was hot and likes books," my best friend Mollee adds, shrugging her shoulders while she puts the lid on a to-go coffee cup. She places it on the counter for the customer on the other side to pick up, and flashes them a quick smile as they leave. "That's the best combination for a man."

"But I'm not here to find any combination for a man," I interject, dropping my hand from my face and showing her the very serious expression on my face. "I'm here to write, and I'm here to start fresh."

Mollee reaches for a wet rag on her side of the counter and wipes down the area briefly before cleaning off the shot glasses used for espresso. I watch her as she moves quickly, seeming to have everything down to a system in the way her tasks get done.

I met Mollee when we were kids. We grew up on the same street, and we were pretty much inseparable -- the classic childhood friendship.

She has been living here in New York City a few years already, and she had been waiting impatiently for me to finally join her on the East Coast.

Honestly, after everything that has happened in my life, I was starting to doubt if I would even make it over here, but I knew I needed a change, and I knew I needed to put myself somewhere else on the map for that to happen.

She was jumping up and down and squealing across the café when she saw me come in, and it didn't take her long at all to meet me on the other side of the counter and greet me with a massive hug.

I couldn't contain my laughter at her reaction to my arrival. She knew I was coming, but I thought to give her a little surprise visit at work, which she hadn't been expecting.

I have been in her store now for nearly fifteen minutes talking about the past day. I mentioned the apartment, which she was excited to help me decorate and shop for, as well as the publishing team I had met with not long ago, which she was also thrilled about considering she was the first person I had told my plan for the story to.

And I have just now told her about my encounter with Niall, the cute bookstore guy, to which she is very excited about.

She tosses her head back and groans in frustration at me. "This is starting fresh," she says, pressing her point further. She knows me too well, honestly, it's like she was waiting to let out that groan because she knew I would give her an opportunity. "You're already meeting new people and doing new things. It can't get any fresher than that. And while you're taking writing breaks, you will have a cute guy to motivate you, if you know what I'm—"

"Please stop," I shake my head, closing my eyes so I don't have to see her raising her eyebrows in the suggestive manner she had been taking part in. "I talked to him for like five minutes. Tops."

"But if you text him," she starts, "That's more minutes."

I want to text him. In fact, I want to text him really badly. She's right, he's a cute ass guy who reads! I would be stupid if I didn't admit that quality didn't automatically catch my attention, but my attention right now should be focused on work, and solely work.