Under A Paper Moon |N.H|

5

Niall never texted back last night.

I'm not sure if it was because he was busy working like he said was, or if it was because of my horrible response.

I was definitely not in the place to double text and try my luck again.

I woke up this morning and stopped at Thunderbird for a cup of coffee before taking a trip to Bloom. I had already finished the book I purchased yesterday, and I was ready for a new one. I think Luke was expecting me too, knowing I fly through books way too fast for the average person, and he didn't seem shocked at all to see me back so soon.

I tried to play it off like I was just stopping by to say hello to family, but he didn't buy it, and he slid me a book across the counter, telling me it was a part of the new shipment they got just before I showed up, and he thought I might like it.

He was right. I can't put it down.

My eyes are glued to the pages, and I haven't looked up since I opened this around an hour ago.

I aimlessly reach for my coffee on the table, tapping the wood counter to find my cup. I take a sip while turning the page, then put the cup back down, still without taking my eyes off the page.

I hope my book does this to someone, where they are so mesmerized by the story that they literally cannot put it down no matter how hard they try.

"A new book already?"

If it was anyone else, my eyes would have stayed on the page. The Irish accent pulled my focus away from the book, and I had to force my eyes back onto the page.

"There's all the proof you need that the last one was worth reading," I nod my head, continuing to read.

He takes a seat on the opposite side of me, scooting forward in his chair to be closer. He interlaces his hands and rests them on the table. "You finished it in a day?"

"It was good. I couldn't put it down. Onto the next."

I can see him just over the top of the book, and he raises an eyebrow. "It was good?"

I nod.

I did just say it was good, didn't I?

"Just good?" he asks as he fights back a smile, maybe even a laugh. "Not even a thumbs up with it?"

Oh my god.

I bring the book up to cover my face out of complete embarrassment.

He laughs at my reaction, and I shake my head at him.

"I'm kidding," he assures me once his laughter dies down, but his smile is still there, and I'm struggling to pay attention to my book. I'm struggling to act like I don't care that he sat down with me. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything back. I was really tied up with work."

"What do you do?" I ask, my curiosity to what his job could be coming forward without even considering that it may be private.

"Can't tell ya."

I furrow my eyebrows, not knowing why it could be such a big secret. The tone of his voice makes it seem like it isn't because it really is a secret, but rather that he is just being a bit difficult in not sharing it with me. "Why not? Are you some kind of secret agent? What's a secret agent doing hanging out in a bookstore?"

"The same as everyone else," he shrugs, and points to the book in my hands that I am still reading. "Reading books. Buying books. I know, crazy. But no. I'm not a secret agent. Why was that the first thing you thought of?"