The Bookworm's Guide to Flirting (The Bookworm's Guide 3)

I scooted out of the building before I was waylaid by anyone else and got into my car. Thankfully there was no fresh snow on the ground and it wasn’t all that icy, so my drive into town wasn’t as difficult as it’d been just two mere weeks ago.

I parked on the street outside the store that held all the party supplies. It doubled as a craft store, since White Peak wasn’t exactly known as a party hotspot. Holley had put me on order pickup duty, and I was already pretty sure I was going to want to vomit over all the lovey-dovey heart-shaped paper chains I’d seen her looking at on the website.

The bell over the door dinged when I walked in.

Did everyone have these damn bells? I hated those things. They were like wind chimes. Totally unnecessary.

If you needed to announce your arrival and departure, you should have been an airplane.

The store was decorated for Valentine’s Day in a way I was sure most people would find tasteful. I, however, was not most people, and it wasn’t tasteful in my opinion.

Why did we need to decorate for Valentine’s? It was nothing more than a day for people who were in relationships to brag about it while single people ate a gallon of ice cream and masturbated to free porn.

Or so I was told.

Ahem.

I approached the counter and internally groaned when I saw Margaret Miyazaki behind it, smiling at another customer. The woman was lovely, really, a real sweetheart. The problem was that her one remaining single child was her beloved son, and for the past several months, she’d developed a rather unhealthy obsession with getting me to be his date.

This was problematic for two reasons.

One: I was not attracted to Austin Miyazaki. At all. We couldn’t be more different in terms of our personalities, and any attempt at dating would be a lesson in failure. He was a wonderful friend, but neither of us were interested in anything more than that.

Two: I was absolutely sure the guy was gay.

No, I didn’t have a gaydar, or whatever people called that thing these days. Was that even a term now? Was I stuck in MySpace land? Was that too two-thousand-and-five of me?

Anyway.

I was absolutely sure that Austin was gay because, three weeks ago, I’d seen him kissing a guy in a parking lot in the next town over.

And let me tell you, I’d never seen him kiss a woman like that.

Hell, I’d never seen anyone outside of a movie kiss anyone like that.

However, his mother clearly didn’t know, and I wasn’t about to be the person who broke that news to her. That was his business to share, not mine, and despite my tendency to be a pain in the ass, I was really quite respectful.

When I wanted to be.

“Saylor!” Margaret said, holding her hands up. “What are you doing on Valentine’s Day?”

See? Told you.

“Hi, Mrs. Miyazaki,” I replied. “I’m afraid I’m busy. Holley has me roped into the blind dating thing at the bookstore.”

What? I wasn’t freaking lying, was I?

“Austin needs a date.” She expertly wrapped a box of paints in tissue paper and taped it without looking. “Would you be his date instead?”

“Uh, I think he’s probably better off choosing his own date,” I said slowly. “I’m really only here to pick up the order. Holley said you called and said it was ready.”

“Yes, yes, it is.” She clasped her hands together in front of her. “You’re single. He’s single. Why won’t you date him?”

Because he’s gay, ma’am.

“We’re good friends,” I said, desperately trying not to just blurt out what I thought was the truth. “I don’t want to be rude, but I do need to get back to the store. Can I get that order?”

She harrumphed as if I’d insulted her entire family and pushed through the beaded curtain to the back room.

This was exactly why I hadn’t wanted to come.

This would no doubt get back to my grandmother—and my mother, God forbid—and I’d be forced on a date with him.

I needed a new family. And friends. And for Holley to pay for delivery for decorations in the future.

Margaret returned with two huge boxes that made my eyes bug. What on Earth had Holley ordered? Cupid himself? Maybe a legion of Cupids?

Margaret grinned, and it was almost sardonic. “She didn’t tell you they were this big, did she?”

“No! What’s in there? Cupid? A heart-shaped bed? Love potions from some hick witch doctor?”

“More pink and red hearts than I’ve ever seen in my life.” She deposited them on the floor next to me. “Don’t worry, they’re not heavy. I just need you to sign to say you got them.”

I signed and dated the form she pushed in my face and bent for the boxes. Luckily, she was right, and they weren’t heavy at all.