Falling in Love (Rockford Falls 5)
“I read,” I protested.
“About cars?” Greg said with an eye roll.
“I like cars. There’s nothing wrong with reading up on innovations in auto repair,” I said defensively.
“He usually read the Spark Notes in high school,” Michelle said to Greg conspiratorially, “or else I had already read whatever he had a test on or a paper to write about.”
“You were a year behind him in school though,” Greg said, “you really were a brain if you were hanging around in your spare time reading Macbeth and crap.”
“As a bookworm and librarian I object to your use of crap. None of Shakespeare is crap. Now, James Joyce? That’s another story. Completely overrated and the worst run on sentences ever. I’m not a violent person, but if someone had shot him while he was in the middle of writing Ulysses, it wouldn’t have been any great loss.”
I laughed. “I never read that one,” I said, trying to get in on the conversation.
“Nobody else has either, really. I mean I did try. It was just really boring and didn’t make much sense. I’m pretty sure the people who claim to love it are just lying to sound smart.”
“What about the romance books. Are the new ones moving?”
“Libraries aren’t like a car showroom—I’m not trying to get them moving,” she said. “But they’ve gotten checked out and that was after I read all of the ones you sent. I’m always happy to beef up my favorite section, romance. “
“You read that stuff?” Greg said.
“Yeah, I do. Why? You looking for a recommendation? Historical or contemporary? There are some really urban fantasy authors I could show you.” She said it so smoothly, so he couldn’t act like a sexist ass about romance novels, her favorite kind of book.
“I was just gonna say, Katie loves those. She reads a ton of romance on her phone. I swear it’s like the same shirtless guy on every cover, black and white picture and the title in neon writing.”
“They may look alike, but I swear, there’s as many different kinds of romance novels as there are ways to fall in love. You’d be impressed if you ever read one.”
“What about you, bro? She got you reading romance books?” Greg asked.
“Not yet, but I wouldn’t turn her down,” I said. “What would you recommend?”
“Did you watch Bridgerton on Netflix?”
“No. What’s that?”
“Okay, so not a gateway to Julia Quinn. What about Virgin River?”
“The guys at the shop talked about it, but I didn’t check it out. Why?”
“It’s based on a book series, too. What about… what do you usually read?”
“About cars,” I said sheepishly.
“Okay, there are some good romances set around NASCAR or Formula One racing that I have at the library. We can start you off there.”
“Or I could start with your favorite,” I said with a grin.
“I don’t have a favorite. I have like twenty favorites. It depends on what mood I’m in. Mariana Zapata does amazing sports romances. Do you like soccer? There are football ones as well.”
“Start me off on football, if it’s one you love.”
“I’ll send you a reading list. You can download the library app and read on your phone.”
“I want to hold the book and read it. Hardback preferably.”
“I knew you were a hands-on guy,” she said, with a half smile. It was the first remotely flirty thing she’d said to me, so I was pretty damn glad she was warming up. Something was bothering her. I couldn’t exactly demand that she tell me, especially in front of Greg. So I’d take the book recommendations and the flirting.
“Always have been, babe,” I said. “I missed you this week. What do you feel like eating? Want to swap your water for a Diet Coke?”
“Water’s fine. I’m not very hungry.”
“Okay. If you change your mind, let me know.”
“I will. Right now I want to hear all about Chicago and what you’ve been up to. It’s been forever,” she said, turning back to Greg.
“It’s been about three years more than forever,” Greg said. “It’s great there. The only thing missing is this guy and my parents.”
“And Rachel’s pie,” I pointed out.
“Okay, I do miss the pie,” he admitted.
“They don’t have pie in Chicago?” Michelle teased.
“Not like this they don’t. They have tons of great places to eat, but I haven’t run across any pie that rivals Rachel’s. She should sell it online. I would buy it.”
“You should tell her that. Although I think she’s got her hands full with the diner and two kids.”
“And Max,” I pointed out, “love the guy, but he’s not my idea of a fun roommate.”
“So you’ve imagined living with Max?” Greg joked. “Do you fantasize about moving in with all your friends?”
“No just the hot ones,” I laughed. “Look at your face. He thinks I’m serious. I just meant Max is kind of moody, not as much as before he and Rachel got together, but I think he’d be—"