The Bookworm Crush

by Lisa Brown Roberts

  Dallas had captured the few seconds when they were nose to nose and Toff was biting his lower lip, looking like…like…kissing was definitely about to happen. Until she almost fell off the stool.

  “I’m not going to post this one. I can’t.” She’d secretly save it for the rest of her life, but no one else could see it. Ever.

  “You have to,” Viv had said vehemently. “I hate to say it, but you do. People will love it, especially HeartRacer, since they published Summer Sweethearts.”

  After a futile argument with Viv, Amy had decided to go for it, hearing Toff’s voice in her head telling her to “bring the swagger.”

  “It’ll cheer him up to get a bunch of Insta love,” Viv had said. “Take his mind off the pain from his injury.”

  “Like he needs more admirers.”

  “Why do you care about that?” Viv had asked. “Since this is a strictly coaching relationship.”

  “I don’t care. At all.”

  Eyes on the prize, she’d told herself as she uploaded the photo that almost tricked her into believing a connection had flashed between them, if only for a few seconds.

  Now, with the reaction to her contest entry blowing up and her followers increasing, she wasn’t sure how to deal with the attention. Toff might be used to being a star, but she wasn’t. She blew out a shaky breath, reached for a second macaron to calm her nerves, and scanned more of the comments.

  “Darcy and Lizzie Forevah. Great cover drawing!”

  “I love Summer Sweethearts, too! You two are hotter than the real book cover!”

  “Surfers are sexy trouble!”

  “Just read some of your reviews—love them!”

  “I am here for this ship. Are you 2 together? Please say yes. #BonnieandClyde”

  “OMG! You’re living my trope dream! Booknerd + hot jock!”

  “Your book reviews are so funny! I love your Redhead Recs!”

  “That bench is so cute. I love to knit, too.”

  Amy set aside her phone, her stomach tumbling and twisting. She was dreading Toff’s reaction to finding out they were a ’ship. Hopefully he’d just laugh it off.

  The question was, how long could she pretend she wasn’t secretly ’shipping herself and Toff?

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Toff sat up in his bed, the effort making him grunt. He hurt more today than he had yesterday, which had passed in a blur of pain meds, sleeping, and mindless YouTubing. He staggered into the living room and collapsed onto the couch with a groan. Dad emerged from the kitchen, coffee cup in hand. “How’s the patient?”

  “Lousy.” Toff stretched out on the couch, his long legs taking up all the available space. “You can’t keep me prisoner forever, Dad. I’m not staying locked up until I get my stitches out.”

  “You survived so far.”

  Toff snorted. “Barely. You could’ve let my fans in to visit.”

  Dad rolled his eyes. “Don’t be obnoxious. I don’t even know what those girls see in you.”

  They stared each other down, glowering, then their scowls morphed into matching grins. Dad had had his own groupies back in the day. Still, he was always warning Toff not to objectify girls.

  “I don’t,” Toff always said. “They’re the ones who objectify me.”

  It was true. Girls mostly wanted him for his looks, for his body, which wasn’t a bad deal most of the time. But sometimes he got tired of everyone seeing him as a mimbo. That was another reason Amy intrigued him. She seemed interested in his brain and his body. At least, he hoped she liked his body. He knew she wanted his coaching brain for sure.

  “Can I have my phone back?” he asked. “It’s like you time warped me back to the Dark Ages.”

  Dad rolled his eyes, then pulled the phone from his back pocket and handed it over. “I’ve never seen so many text notifications in my life.”

  Toff grinned. “Like you said, Dad. Fans.”

  A knock sounded on the open front door.

  “Come on in, Dallas,” Dad called out. “You can help me tie down my idiot son.”

  Toff made a move to sit up again, wincing. His dad raised a warning hand. Frustrated, Toff flopped his head back on the couch cushion.

  This. Sucked.

  Dallas strode into the room looking purposeful, which annoyed Toff. No one should look like that during summer break, especially not wearing that stupid Trek Yourself Before You Wreck Yourself T-shirt.

  “Hey, dumb-ass.” Dallas grinned, plopping onto the footstool next to the couch. “You’re not going anywhere on my watch.”

  “Did you coordinate or what?” Toff glared at Dallas, then his dad.

  Dad smiled approvingly at Dallas. “He’s just smarter than you, Toff.”

  “Bruised or cracked ribs?” Dallas glanced up at his dad.

  “I’m right here,” Toff said, annoyed, but Dallas ignored him.

  “Bruised pretty bad,” Dad said. “Stitches. No concussion, thank God.”

  Dallas nodded, turning his attention back to Toff. “I’ve cracked ribs before, sparring in tournaments. Bruised them a few times, too. I know how much it hurts, dude.” His gaze held sympathy behind the dork glasses, then it turned hard. “You have to chill out. You can’t do anything stupid, which will be hard for you.”

  “Shut it, McNerd.” Toff shifted on the couch, grimacing as pain squeezed his midsection, radiating from his stomach to his back.

  Dad squeezed Dallas’s shoulder. “I knew you were his smartest friend. Maybe he’ll listen to you.”

  “I’m not a moron,” Toff grumbled. “I don’t want to make things worse. I just don’t know what I’m gonna do trapped on the couch.”

  “ESPN,” Dallas said. “YouTube. Netflix. PlayStation.”

  “There are these inventions called books.” Dad gestured to the overflowing bookcase on the far wall. “I’ve heard they’re even better than TV.”

  Toff closed his eyes, huffing with exasperation. Second only to the ongoing “go pro or go to college” battle between him and Dad was the “why don’t you read a book” battle. It had intensified when Dad and Rose started dating. Occasionally, Dad came home with books Rose thought Toff might like—the dorky stuff Dallas read, with trolls and wizards or whatever. The occasional biography. None of which interested him beyond a few pages.

  “Yeah, great idea,” said Dallas. “Maybe try one of the books Amy picked out for you. She’s a pro at book recs.”

  Toff shot Dallas a warning glare.

  “Amy? Viv’s book club friend?” Dad asked. “She recommended books for you?”

  Toff nodded reluctantly, not liking the way Dad’s eyes sparked with interest at the idea of him reading.

  “Excellent. Amy gets a visitor pass, too,” Dad told Dallas, like Toff was in a coma instead of just bandaged up.

  Toff growled. “I decide who gets a visitor pass, Dad, not you.” He frowned as he remembered something. “Hey, I thought you told Rose that she and Viv could come over anytime.”

  “I did. Rose came by yesterday, but you were asleep. Viv wasn’t with her.”

  So much for his almost-sister bothering to check up on him. He glowered at Dad like it was his fault. “You know what? Maybe I don’t want you giving out any visitor passes.”

  “So you don’t want to see Amy?” Dad shrugged, but he flashed that shit-eating smirk Toff hated. “Okay, take her off the list, Dallas.”

  “No! That’s not what I meant.” Toff threw his head back against the pillows in frustration.

  From his chair, Dallas choke-laughed. “So…yes or no to Amy visiting?” he asked innocently.

  Toff stared him down. Of course he wanted to see Amy. They had to figure out which bookface photos to post before the deadline. Plus, he just…wanted to see her.

  “Visitor pass for the book lover,” Dad announced, grinning a
nd raising his arm with a flourish. He disappeared into the kitchen, and Dallas turned his attention back to Toff.

  “Viv wants to see you,” Dallas said. “She’s hoping you bruised your tongue instead of your ribs so you can’t talk.”

  Toff flipped Dallas the bird.

  Dallas laughed. “Listen, I know this sucks, but you’ll survive.”

  “Says you,” Toff grumbled.

  “Surfers are such babies. You wouldn’t last two minutes on a Tae Kwon Do sparring mat, especially not with me.” Dallas stretched out his legs. “You check out social media lately?”

  “No, I just got my phone back.” Toff frowned. “Why? Are people talking about my accident?”

  Dallas shook his head, but Toff could tell he was holding in a laugh.

  He pointed to his bandage, irritated with his friend. “This isn’t funny, dude.”

  “It’s not,” Dallas agreed, “but this sure is.” He tapped his phone. “Check out Amy’s OTP Instagram post.”

  “She did it without me?” A stab of disappointment twisted his gut. He’d been looking forward to choosing photos together.

  “You were out of commission yesterday. She had a #BookFaceFriday deadline.” Dallas’s grin was stupidly big and smug. “Besides, I took great photos. She didn’t need you, Coach.”

  Toff narrowed his eyes at his supposed friend, then unlocked his phone.

  “Check out her feed,” Dallas said. “Somehow I managed to make even you look good.”

  Toff ignored the jab, scanning Amy’s Instagram. She’d posted a couple of times. The first being the shot she did without him and then the one with the book Dallas picked.

  A surge of self-satisfaction shot through him when he saw how many likes her posts had. He scanned the comments. The kudos for Amy’s book reviews jumped out, making him happy. That’s what he’d hoped would happen—for people who liked her photos to go check out her reviews on that Hunkalicious blog she and Viv did.

  This was exactly what she needed—people other than her friends to see how smart she was. To compliment her. To boost her swagger.

  “The Bonnie and Clyde comments are funny,” Dallas said, “but I don’t know why everyone’s shipping you. I get why people like Amy, but you? Eh.” Dallas shrugged, his shit-eating grin worse than Dad’s. “What’s so great about another hot surfer who can’t even stay on his board?”

  “Shipping us?” Toff looked up, ignoring Dallas’s smack talk. “What are you talking about?”

  “Look again.” Dallas smirked.

  Toff wondered if he had a painkiller hangover, because he wasn’t following. He checked Amy’s feed again. The post with him and Amy had two shots: the #BookFaceFriday photo, with only his hair and Amy’s hair visible, matching the cover models, and then an outtake photo from when they’d been laughing and joking around.

  Whoa. Hold up. In the outtake photo, they were face-to-face and…damn, they looked hot together. It was obvious he’d been about to kiss her—until she’d panicked and almost fallen off the stool.

  Toff couldn’t take his eyes off her expression. And his. “Wow. I’m surprised she posted this one.”

  “It was a tough sell. Viv was the one who convinced her to do it, believe it or not.” Dallas kicked back in his chair. “And now the online bookworm contingent wants you two to hook up. You’re officially part of an OTP, dude.”

  Toff blinked, then scanned the photo’s comments, surprised by all the #BonnieandClyde OTP shipping. Whoa. Toff wondered how Amy felt about being shipped with him. Probably not too happy.

  Even so…he and Amy being shipped because of her OTP posts? That was awesome buzz for her challenge entry. He couldn’t have planned that if he’d tried.

  Dad walked back in with a plate full of toasted bagels with cream cheese and set it on the coffee table. “You’re welcome,” he said to Toff.

  Toff grinned. “Thanks, Dad.” He grabbed two bagel halves, slapped them together, and took a huge bite.

  “So,” Dad said, “Viv and Amy can come over today, but no one else except them and Dallas. I have to drive to San Diego for an appointment, so somebody needs to keep an eye on you. I know he’ll keep you in line.”

  Toff rolled his eyes. Being landlocked and babysat for the next couple of weeks was going to suck.

  “We can play Candy Land,” Dallas said, “and paint each other’s nails.”

  Dad smirked. “Make sure Amy brings books. Since you aren’t concussed, you can read while your nail polish dries.”

  “You guys suck,” Toff grumbled, even though they didn’t. Even though he knew they were harassing him because they cared.

  He glanced at the hot photo again, zeroing in on Amy’s face. Was she faking for the camera like she did for the sheriff? Didn’t look like it.

  He grinned and set his phone aside. Why not mix in some kissing with the coaching? Kissing was harmless. Fun. Something he could do even with jacked-up ribs.

  Maybe the next couple of weeks wouldn’t completely suck after all.

  …

  “Why can’t I come with you to see Toff?” Brayden whined over his bowl of Gorilla Munch cereal.

  “Because he’s in pain and you’ll just make it worse.”

  Viv had texted her earlier with a message from Dallas. Toff wanted books and visitors. She didn’t believe the books part, but she’d play along.

  Brayden stuck his tongue out and kept eating.

  “I assume you’ve talked to Toff.” Mom sipped her tea. “How’s he doing?”

  Amy shifted on her chair, not meeting Mom’s eyes. What exactly did she think was going on between her and Toff anyway? She was surprised Mom hadn’t given her the third degree yet, but the shark-not-shark scare must’ve thrown her off her usual Mom game.

  Thank God her parents never looked at social media. As much as he loved The Bachelor, her dad would go crazy with all the shipping of her and the Cupcake Kid. Ugh. She couldn’t think about that right now.

  “I, um, haven’t heard from him,” Amy said. “But Viv says he’s going to be fine.” She shrugged and made eye contact with Mom. “He has stitches and bruised ribs but no concussion.”

  “Good.” Mom nodded, looking thoughtful. “I heard through the grapevine that his dad and Rose are getting married. I’m so glad. They deserve to be happy.”

  Amy definitely agreed with that, being the champion of HEAs that she was. “Did you—” She hesitated, then plunged ahead. “Did you know Toff’s mom? When we were kids?”

  Mom set her teacup on the table. “Put your bowl in the dishwasher, Brayden, then take Goldi for a walk.”

  “What? Why?” He shot Amy a glare like this was her fault.

  “Because I said so. Amy and I need to have a girl talk.”

  Uh-oh. Amy’s stomach flip-flopped, and she barely noticed Brayden stomping around the kitchen, grumbling about child labor laws. He left the house with Goldi, slamming the front door behind him.

  Mom laughed. “That boy is something else.”

  Amy didn’t laugh. She was too worried about what Mom had to say.

  “Don’t look so panicked, sweetie. I just wanted us to talk in private without your snoopy brother around.” Mom sipped more tea and shifted in her chair, turning to face Amy.

  “Yes, I knew his mom. When you kids were very young, in kindergarten, some of the moms and dads would go out for coffee after dropping you off at school.” The look in her eyes was distant, like she was searching for a memory. “Some of us had a harder time than others adjusting to our little babies going off to school.”

  “Mom. Kindergartners aren’t ‘little babies.’”

  Mom blinked away the faraway look and smiled at Amy. “If you ever have kids—which you shouldn’t until you’re at least thirty—I’ll remind you of this conversation.”

  Amy reached for the blackberry jam
and smeared it on a piece of toast, not wanting to think about babies and Toff with the same brain waves.

  “Anyway.” Mom cleared her throat. “Deanna. Toff’s mom. She was lovely, from Australia. She had that fabulous Aussie accent and was a natural surfer, just like Toff’s dad. And she was funny. She always made me crack up.”

  “No wonder he’s so good at surfing,” Amy muttered. Some people won the DNA lottery: looks, athletic ability, charisma.

  “Yes,” Mom agreed. “They had Toff out on a boogie board when he was three years old.”

  Amy could picture it—an adorable little Toff, suntanned and hair bleached blond by the sun, king of the toddlers on the beach.

  “We spent a lot of time together that kindergarten year, commiserating about our babies going out into the big world of school.” Mom sighed. “Deanna got sick when you kids were in second grade. At first she thought it was fatigue from fighting off pneumonia—she had a bad go-round with it. But she didn’t get better.”

  Mom stared out the sliding glass doors that opened onto the deck, her gaze distant. “It all happened so fast. From fatigue, to the cancer diagnosis, to hospice.”

  A tear trickled down Mom’s cheek, making Amy’s eyes burn as she imagined how it must have been. Poor Paul, losing his wife. Poor Deanna, to die so suddenly, when her son was so young. And poor Toff, losing his mom. He didn’t have any brother or sisters to rely on, just his dad.

  “Anyway.” Mom grabbed a tissue and blew her nose. “It was so hard on Paul, but he did his best with Toff. They spent every spare minute at the beach. I think it was how they both healed and honored Deanna.”

  Amy wondered how it might’ve been if Toff’s mom were still alive. Would Deanna and Mom be close friends? Would Amy have grown up with Toff always around, like Viv had?

  “So…how did Toff end up spending so much time with Viv and her mom?”

  Mom smiled. “Rose grew up in Shady Cove. So did Paul. Once upon a time they went to the same schools as you kids.”

  Amy blinked. “Really?” She never knew that, but then, she’d never asked. She wondered if Rose and Paul had dated back in high school.