“One, two, three. Eyes on me.”
She didn’t laugh when he tossed out the kindergarten pay-attention command, but her gaze zinged right to him, bouncing down to his chest, then back up. Her face pinched like she was disgusted by what she saw. Not at all like the sandwich chick. Damn. This was embarrassing. He shoved his arms back into his hoodie and zipped it up to his neck, even though he was burning up.
Across from him, Amy breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed into her chair, her skittishness gone.
So much for their coaching gig turning into something more interesting.
Whatever. It wasn’t like he had time or energy for any type of relationship, and she was definitely a girl with high expectations. Her bar was set so high by this P&P book and probably every other romance she’d read, no real guy would ever meet her standards.
She wasn’t great for his ego, that was for sure. He rubbed his forehead, trying to get his head back in the coaching game.
“Great writing.” He tapped on the sketchbook. “Drawings, too. Is this the Darcy dude?” He pointed at the snooty-looking guy she’d sketched. “And Lizzie?” He pointed to the girl with the smirk.
She nodded. “You liked it?”
“As much as I can like anything about a boring book.” He grinned. Maybe if he kept his repulsive self covered up, they could get back to joking around.
“High praise indeed.” She smiled, then glanced at his empty glass. “Oh! I should’ve grabbed yours when I got mine. Sorry. Want me to refill your soda?”
She was all sweetness and light, now that he was zipped up like a mummy.
“No thanks.” He tapped the can Lynette had brought out, scowling.
“So what’s your plan for this challenge?” he asked, shifting back into coach mode. “What will get you maximum exposure for the contest?”
Her smile faded. “I’m not sure. I could put a review on Viv’s blog—”
“The Hunkalicious Heroes one?” Toff fake shuddered. Viv should be ashamed of herself for that blog name. It was so…objectifying. He fiddled with the zipper on his hoodie. Maybe he was feeling sensitive because the sandwich chick had objectified him, and Amy had un-objectified him. He wasn’t sure which was worse.
Was this how girls felt with guys constantly checking them out?
“Maybe try Instagram again?” Amy suggested.
Toff bounced his thumbs on the table. “Tell me more about your planet.”
She blinked. “My planet?”
“Where the book people live.”
She rolled her eyes, but he pulled another smile out of her, which felt like a win. Weird. She was the one trying to win something, not him. He took a swig of energy drink.
“What do you want to know?”
“Is Instagram the best place to drum up buzz?” Like he’d told her, her first post was…cute, or whatever, but it hadn’t gotten the results she needed.
She reached up to mess with one of her sparkle thingamajigs. He didn’t know why they always caught his attention, along with her wild red hair.
“You know how people just check out what they’re into, right?” she asked.
He nodded. His entire feed was about surfing.
“Well, there’s this thing called bookstagram.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“It’s a hashtag, but it’s also…a community. For my planet.” She smiled again, a big one. A real one.
“So what’s most popular? Stuff like your first post? Do people really get that excited about book covers?”
She stared at him like he’d just asked if the sky was blue. He laughed, putting up his hands like he was fending off an attack. “Okay, okay. But your first post didn’t do as great as you wanted, and it was a picture of a book. What else gets a lot of likes?”
Amy pursed her lips, considering his question. Her lips sparkled, too, with gloss. He knew all about lip gloss. He’d done enough kissing to taste every flavor.
“Bookface.”
He blinked, refocusing. “What face?”
She grinned, her whole face lighting up. “It’s easier to explain if I show you photos.” She grabbed her phone, fingers flying, wild red hair falling around her face.
“Here.” She held out her phone.
Toff checked out the #BookFaceFriday Instagram feed. It wasn’t what he expected, but he had to admit the photos were cool—snaps of people posing holding books over their faces, wearing clothes that matched the book covers, or showing partial faces that looked almost exactly like the faces on the book covers.
“So this is what book nerds do for fun?” He returned her phone and grinned. Her reaction didn’t disappoint, eyes flashing, her cheeks turning pink, highlighting her freckles.
“Are you going to help me or not, Toff?”
That got his full attention. “When I say I’ll do something, I do it.” She wanted a coach? She’d get one.
“Um, okay. Good.” She smiled, but it wasn’t the big one he liked. “So if I do Instagram for my OTP, I can post photos for all my copies of Pride and Prejudice—”
“You have more than one copy of the book?”
“You have more than one surfboard.” Amy crossed her arms over her chest, her sparky indignation back. “I don’t get that, either, but I know you have your reasons.”
He shoved his hand through his hair. “Good reasons. Competition blades, different-size boards, cruiser logs, custom boards I made with my dad—”
“See? Same thing.” Amy twirled a strand of hair around her finger, distracting him.
“But the book is identical, right? The exact same words, only with a different cover?” This made no sense. “My boards aren’t identical.”
Amy shrugged, her cheeks flushing. “Let’s just agree to disagree on this, okay?”
He could do that. He needed to stop staring at her hair anyway and focus on something else. “How about a video? Show off all your different book containers that way.”
“I’m not ready for that yet.” She ducked her head, running her fingernail along a rusted seam in the table. “I, um, have a fear of public speaking.” She peeked at him. “I’m sure that sounds dumb to you. You have no trouble performing in front of an audience.”
That didn’t make sense. “But I thought you’d already recorded videos with Viv. The ones Brayden talked about.”
Her cheeks went even pinker. “Yeah, but…” She bit her bottom lip, distracting him again. “You’d have to watch one to understand.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I was hoping we could avoid this.”
“Avoid what? Me watching your videos?”
She nodded, looking like she wanted to bolt.
“Ames, they can’t be any worse than the hundreds of crazy meme videos I’ve watched.”
He grabbed his phone and opened his YouTube app. He typed in “Hunka—” and boom. The channel popped up before he even had to ask her how to spell Hunkalicious, right under “Hunka Hunka Burning Love” by Elvis Presley. He clicked on the first video thumbnail, which was frozen on an open-mouthed Viv.
Amy sank lower and lower in her chair while Toff watched two minutes of Viv blabbing about books. In the video, Viv did all the talking while Amy sat next to her, holding up books and ping-pong paddles with thumbs-ups and thumbs-down images, smiling like that chick on TV who spun the letters on that game show his grandma loved.
Amy didn’t say a word, on screen or sitting across from him.
Toff paused the video. He couldn’t take anymore. It was too painful. He scanned the comments, expecting them to tear into Amy. Instead, they were mostly about the books, either arguing with Viv or telling her how smart she was. But the few comments about Amy called her “the redhead” and talked about her clothes or her hair, like she was some mannequin or whatever, which she was not.
This was…awful. How could she
go along with this? Was this Viv’s dumb idea? He scowled at Viv’s frozen image on his phone screen. He’d tell her exactly what he thought the next time he saw her. He sucked in a breath, composing himself before he looked Amy in the eye. He was about to close the app when one comment caught his attention.
“Hey, Red, I love your recs on the blog. Why don’t you ever do them here? Put Viv in time-out and you talk for once.”
Toff couldn’t agree more. His fingers drummed restlessly on the table as he debated what to say and how. Now he realized why she’d asked him for help. Legit help. She had to come out of her shell to win this contest. She didn’t belong on the sidelines holding up stupid signs while other people hogged the spotlight. Yeah, he loved Viv, but she had to get out of Amy’s way.
“I know I’m pathetic in those videos,” Amy said softly. “I’m a joke. No one takes me seriously, if they even notice me at all.” Her voice wobbled. “Thanks for not laughing.”
Toff’s head jerked up. “You’re not a joke, Ames.”
She shrugged, glancing away from him.
“I mean it.”
He willed her to look him in the eye, hoping she could tell he was serious for once. She took a breath and met his gaze. The energy between them shifted, like an electrical storm descended right over their table, crackling with lightning bolts.
A bead of sweat trickled from the nape of his neck down his spine. Burning up, he unzipped his hoodie, but this time, instead of looking away, Amy’s gaze tracked the zipper, her cheeks going pink when the jacket fell open. Slowly, she raised her eyes back to his.
Aha. Not repulsed after all.
Their gazes locked and held. She broke the stare first, glancing down to doodle, drawing hearts. Determination tightened his muscles. If that author’s books meant so much to her, he had to help her pull this off.
Maybe she wasn’t ready to jump straight to a video, but they had to do better than her first post. He grabbed his phone and scanned the #bookface posts again, adding an OTP hashtag. After a few minutes, he knew what they had to do.
“Okay. I’ve got a plan.”
Amy glanced up, startled. “Already?”
He nodded. “Do you trust me, Ames?”
“Um, maybe?” She bit her lip.
Maybe? “You have to trust your coach, or this won’t work.”
“Oh.” She broke eye contact, glancing down at her notebook again. “Yes, I trust you for that.”
“Good. Can you meet me tomorrow at the bookstore?”
“Sure. Why?”
“I’ll explain tomorrow. I’ll be there by eleven. You need to get there first, though, and grab a bunch of books with, uh, couples on the covers.”
“Couples?”
He grinned. “Romances. Like the ones you tried to force on me. And bring one of your OTP books, too, about these two.” He pointed to her doodles of the snooty guy and the smirking girl. “But just one.”
“Uh…why?”
“You’re supposed to trust me, remember?”
“Okay, Coach.” She blushed, but he didn’t know why.
“Good.” He crushed his empty can. He was not going to eff this up. “I won’t let you down.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Toff was already fifteen minutes late. Amy hovered in the romance section of Murder by the Sea. She’d already selected most of the books for whatever Toff’s plan was, but she hadn’t chosen any with couples on the cover. No way was she doing a couple-y bookface pose with him.
Five more minutes. If he didn’t show, she’d leave. Maybe it was for the best if he bailed. Yesterday’s lunch had been awkward and nerve-racking, especially the way it ended with Toff promising to help her, looking all intense like he’d sworn a vow to be her knight going into battle.
Her phone buzzed in her hand.
Toff: Be there in a flash
Amy bit her lip, her pulse rate revving up. She moved down the aisle to her favorite shelf—Redhead Recs—featuring her must-reads. Viv’s mom had suggested that she and Viv create a shelf dedicated to their favorite books, and they’d jumped on the idea.
Amy grabbed one of her latest favorites, a gay romance about the prince of England falling in love with the son of the United States president. She’d shipped them so hard, even recording a secret video review that she’d never make public because of how embarrassing all her gushing had been.
“Ready to bookface, Bonnie?”
At the sound of Toff’s voice, Amy yelped and jumped, dropping her stack of books. Toff grinned as he stepped closer, his dimples and sky-blue eyes freezing her in place.
“Chill, Ames. It’s just me.” He squatted down to grab the books, a whiff of his soap filling her nose. Like a junkie, she inhaled deeply.
Stop it, she scolded herself.
He stood and handed her the stack of books.
“You’re late,” she said, instead of thank you, hoping to prevent herself from being sucked into his flirty whirlpool.
Toff chuckled and glanced at the Redhead Recs shelf. His eyes widened. “Whoa. You have your own shelf? Impressive.” He picked up one of her handwritten shelf talker cards, and her stomach clenched with panic. “‘All the feels,’” he read aloud. “‘Superhot alpha hero who’s not an alphahole!’”
Amy prayed to Saint Jane Austen for an invisibility cloak or an instant coma. Wake me up ten years from now, she begged Saint Jane, or beam Toff to the other side of the planet.
Unfortunately, Saint Jane was off duty.
Slowly, Toff turned to face her, lips smashed together. Amy tensed like she was standing next to a volcano, just waiting for it to explode—with laughter.
“What’s an alpha hero?”
“Navy SEALs,” she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder in a feeble attempt at swagger. “Fighter pilots. Spies like James Bond.”
“Got it.” Toff leaned against the bookshelf, smirking down at her. “Kickass dudes like me.”
“N-No. You’re not…like that.” He wasn’t a superhero alpha like Thor wielding a hammer. Maybe he pulled off unbelievable surfing maneuvers that made his fans go crazy. And maybe he had sponsors knocking down his door encouraging him to go pro. That didn’t make him…
Okay, it made him a low-key alpha.
Toff grinned like he’d read her mind. “So what’s an alphahole?”
“The worst kind of guy. Controlling. Using his hotness for evil.”
“Evil?”
“Never mind.” She pointed to her recs shelf. “This guy’s an old-school alpha hero.”
Toff grabbed the Regency romance off the shelf. “He’s wearing a top hat. And a weird scarf. What’s that gold stuff on his boots?” Toff glanced up, lips quirking. “I don’t think a real alpha hero would dress like this.”
Amy snatched the book from his hands and put it back on display. “They’re called Hessian boots. The gold ‘thingy’ is a tassel. Regency heroes wore—” She broke off. Why were they even having this conversation? Desperate for a Viv rescue, Amy glanced down the aisle, but her friend was nowhere in sight. She squared her shoulders and faced Toff head-on. “So what’s the plan?”
“It’s not a plan plan,” he said with a nonchalant shrug. “I’m going for more of a vibe. I’ll know it when we do it.”
That sounded alarmingly…laid-back. Weren’t winners more go-getter than that? Trying not to worry, Amy turned and headed for the front of the store.
“Also, I’m late because I swung by my house after surfing,” Toff said, catching up with her as they rounded the corner into the reading nook. “I showered just for you, Ames.”
Amy stopped short, nearly crashing into Viv and Dallas.
“You showered for Amy?” Dallas’s green eyes glinted with laughter behind his glasses. “TMI, dude.”
Viv’s gaze darted suspiciously between Amy and Toff.
“What’s going on?”
“Photo shoot.” Dallas adjusted his backpack covered with Star Trek patches. “Wish us luck.”
“Wait, what?” Viv put her hands on her hips, staring them all down. “Why don’t I know what’s happening?”
“Do you ever, Wordworm?” Toff teased.
“You’re not helping, Clyde,” Amy muttered, then smiled at Viv. “We’re doing Bookface Friday photos for the contest,” she said. “Flipper has some brilliant plan that’s not a plan that’ll get more buzz, or so he claims.” She shot him a dubious glance, then looked at Dallas. “So you’re our photographer?”
“Yep.”
“Why didn’t I get invited?” Viv demanded, looking more hurt than angry. A twinge of guilt twisted in Amy’s stomach. She hadn’t told Viv about Coach Toff yet. She didn’t want her getting the wrong idea or any lectures about the dangers of spending time with him.
This was about winning, nothing else.
“I’ll show you the pictures when we’re finished,” Amy said, hoping to assuage her. “You can help me decide which ones to post.”
“I’m helping you decide,” Toff said, his voice deepening with bossiness. “I’m your coach.”
Spoken like a true alphahole.
“This is my contest entry, Toff,” she snapped. Yeah, he was helping her improve her swagger game, but she wasn’t going to let him take over everything. “I decide what we post.”
He didn’t blink, her words bouncing off him like bullets off Superman’s chest.
“Ack!” Viv sputtered, throwing her hands in the air. “What the heck is going on?”
“I’m coaching Amy so she wins the publisher contest,” Toff said. “Dallas is my assistant today.”
“More like his wrangler,” Dallas joked. He pulled Viv into a hug and kissed her on the cheek. “We’ll be back before your shift’s over.”
“Wait a minute,” Viv said to Toff. “What do you mean you’re coaching Amy?”
“I’m showing her how to bring the heat,” Toff said, flexing his biceps. “Prepare to be amazed, Wordworm.”
…
The Bookworm Crush Page 9
