A Book Nerd's Guide to Falling in Love

Chapter 21: It was What it was after All

Don't shut down. Don't shut down, I kept telling my brain as I walked down Main Street on my way to Littleton Diner to meet Finn.

I knew it wasn't a date, but I felt like it was or should be.

It was a thank-you brunch because he helped me with the infographics, and I helped him with his paper. That was it. But my silly heart kept denying it and insisting to my brain that it was more.

I approached the diner's front entrance and paused at the double glass doors. Finn had texted me about five minutes ago that he'd be inside waiting.

He had asked to pick me up earlier from my house since we lived on the same block, but I told him I was coming from somewhere else. I lied. I waited a couple of minutes after he told me he had left before I went out. I didn't want anyone to see us together, and I hoped no one recognized us at the diner today.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed through the door, hearing the single ding of a bell at its top.

"Watson!" Finn called as soon as I got inside like he'd seen me before I entered. He sat in a booth big enough for four people.

"Hey, Finn," I said as I walked up to him and sat across from him. I sensed his eyes on me, and I wished the make-up I put on wasn't too much—lipstick red enough and blush like a natural flush on my cheeks.

I didn't want to make the impression that I was trying too hard. I had thought about asking my mother to help me with it, but then I wouldn't have heard the end of it. She'd want to know who I was going on a date with.

Stop it, Elsy! It's not a date.

"Did you order yet?" I asked, taking him in and noticing the sweater he wore—the black hoodie with an I ❤️ the Internet print on its front that I got him for his birthday. Oof!

"No, I was waiting for you," he said, pulling the menus off the table and handing one to me. "So, what do you want?" he asked as he flipped open his menu.

I did the same, trying not to stare at the glaring mockery of a sweater in front of me. "I like pancakes," I said.

"Blueberry?" he asked.

I nodded. "How did you know?"

Smiling, his dimple deepened. "I guessed." He raised his hand to call the waiter, and we ordered our food. When the waiter left, an awkward silence fell on our table.

Glancing at his sweater, I had to ask. "Why did you wear that sweater?"

"I thought you'd want to see how it looks on me. It was your gift after all," he answered.

I couldn't tell if he was joking or was serious but I felt the need to apologize. "I'm sorry about the sweater."

"What do you mean? It fits perfectly, like you know my size." He gestured at himself.

My cheeks heated. I guessed his size but didn't think it would fit him perfectly. When I let my eyes inspect, I admitted it clung to his body well in a non-baggy and not-so-tight way. "I got you that sweater to make fun of you," I divulged.

"Why?" Finn's brows rose.

"I was annoyed because you said you didn't read and were more of an internet person." I did air quotes as I said the word internet.

He scrunched his nose, making him look so cute AF. "You think people who hearts the internet are stupid?"

"No." I flinched, raising my hands in defense. "I didn't say that. That's not what I meant."

"Then just people who don't read are stupid." He cocked his head to the side.

"No, I—" Shaking my head, I tried to find the words to explain.