The Bookworm Crush

by Lisa Brown Roberts

  Amy blushed and spun the hat rack. Toff grabbed the rack to stop it from spinning. “This is the good part, Ames.” He leaned down and whispered in her ear. “The stuff you live for.”

  She shot him another stink eye, which warmed his chest. It was like they had their own secret code. He blinked, forgetting where he’d left off.

  “The stuff I live for,” she prompted.

  “Right.” That smile, sweet with a dash of trouble, was dangerous. He cleared his throat and gave the fidget spinner another whack. “Anyway. I was cool with them dating. Happy for my dad. I mean, a guy has needs…” He slanted her a wicked grin.

  “Whoa.” Amy raised her hand in a stop gesture. “You did not just dudes have needs me!”

  He was officially addicted to that fire in her eyes. “What? We do.” He smirked as he pushed off the wall. “So do girls. Even penguins mate at least once a year. The luckier little guys get it on all year long.”

  She huffed out a frustrated laugh. “What is it with you and penguins?”

  “I might be an expert. It was all those Madagascar movies. I was obsessed.” He picked up Rico and tucking him under his arm. “And Surf’s Up. Now that’s a classic.” He’d watched a million surf movies, but the animated penguin one was his favorite.

  “Wasn’t there a sequel to it? With wrestling stars—”

  It was his turn to make the stop gesture with his hand. “We will not speak of this travesty.”

  “Come on, penguin freak.” Laughing, Amy tugged his hand, dragging him out of the store to a faded metal bench facing the ocean. “Sit.” She pointed.

  He sat, hugging Rico to his chest, feeling like a little kid but okay with that.

  “Now your dad and Rose are getting married,” she said, sitting next to him. “And it’s freaking you out. Do you think it’s because this is permanent?” she asked, her voice gentle. “Not just dating?”

  He shrugged. “Did you know most penguin species mate for life? Except those emperor dudes who switch it up every year. But most of them…” He stared at his hands. An ancient, faded friendship bracelet from Viv encircled his left wrist, along with a thin beaded leather one that was his mom’s.

  “Maybe you should talk to your dad about the wedding and how you’re feeling.” Amy took his hand in hers, her slender fingers entwining with his.

  “My dad’s busy at his shop and worried about my injury,” he said gruffly. “We don’t talk about that stuff.”

  “Are you going to be the best man?” Amy asked.

  Where had that come from? “I don’t know.” He glanced at her, then away. “He hasn’t asked me. He’s got a bunch of friends. I’m sure he’ll ask one of them.”

  “I bet he’ll ask you. How sweet if you were his best man and Viv was maid of honor for her mom.”

  “I don’t even know if they’re doing a big wedding. They might just do the court thing.”

  Amy’s lips twitched. “You mean justice of the peace?”

  “Whatever. I don’t know what it’s called.”

  “Even if they do, you can still be a witness and stand up for them. You said most penguins mate for life, right?”

  He frowned. “What does that have to do with my dad getting married?”

  “How old were you when you became obsessed with penguins?”

  He shrugged. “Kindergarten and up, I guess. I remember watching Escape to Madagascar not long after…my mom…”

  Compassion filled her eyes.

  Other than the therapist he saw as a kid, he’d never talked to anyone about this stuff. Never. Yet here he was, spilling his guts.

  “If you were so into penguins,” Amy said, “and you knew they mated for life, but then your mom died…” An embarrassed half smile tilted her lips. “Maybe in your little-boy mind, that meant your dad couldn’t marry again.”

  He didn’t know what to say. It was either the dumbest idea he’d ever heard or not the dumbest idea ever.

  Amy ducked her head, blushing. “Sorry. That was stupid.”

  “It’s not stupid,” he said. “I don’t know if it’s true, but I like how your brain works.”

  She glanced up. “You do?”

  “Yeah. I don’t talk about my mom much. Or my dad’s love life.” He rolled his eyes as he said the words. “But I can talk to you.” He locked eyes with her, and the way she looked at him?

  Damn.

  He set Rico on the bench, pulled Amy in close, and kissed her softly, gently, then drew back. He didn’t want to talk about sad stuff anymore.

  “We’re having an official coaching meeting tomorrow, Bonnie. Time to plan your last challenge. Let’s meet at the Bean at ten.” He tried out a serious, not too scary coach face. “Make sure you bring the swagger you brought tonight.”

  He held out his phone to take a selfie with her, grabbing Rico to make sure he was in the shot, too.

  “Swagger for the camera.”

  Amy laughed as he took a burst of photos, making goofy faces with his penguin.

  He’d post one of these later, #PenguinsRuleSharksDrool. No shipping tags.

  Well, maybe just one…

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Dad was sitting in the dark living room when Toff got home from the pier, watching old videos of his own pro competitions on YouTube. When he was a kid, Toff had watched those clips over and over, idolizing his dad the same way Cody worshipped Big Z in the Surf’s Up movie.

  “Haven’t seen you watch those in a long time,” Toff said. He joined his dad on the couch, hoping he wasn’t in for another lecture. That would kill his mellow buzz from spending time with Amy.

  Dad shrugged. “Yeah. Tripping down memory lane.” He exhaled a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry about yelling at you earlier.” He locked eyes with Toff. “You scared me, kid, sprinting off. How are your ribs?”

  A stab of guilt poked at Toff’s gut. “I’m sorry, too. Like Coach Diggs always says, I’m kind of a dumb-ass.” He lifted his shirt, rubbing the bandage. “I took a couple of ibuprofen earlier. I’m feeling okay.”

  “Good.” Dad smiled wearily. “Some days I really miss your mom. Injuries never rattled her.” He shook his head, his smile fading.

  On the TV screen, his twenty-two-year-old dad pulled off an epic alley-oop, catching a ton of air, spinning in a backward aerial rotation high above the water. That was one of Toff’s favorite tricks, too.

  “Nice,” he said.

  “Right?” Dad smiled his chill-Dad smile, which Toff hadn’t seen since his accident, and the tightness in his chest eased.

  “You’re coming to the engagement party, right?” Dad asked, glancing anxiously at Toff. “Rose asked Dallas to come, and of course Viv will be there.”

  Toff’s gut twisted when he saw the worry in Dad’s eyes. “Of course I’ll be there.”

  “Good.” Dad looked relieved.

  Toff thought of what Amy had said, about penguins mating for life being somehow connected to his feelings about the wedding. Yeah, it sounded goofy, but also felt right.

  “I’m bringing someone to the party, if that’s okay.”

  Dad’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “A date?”

  “No,” Toff said. “A friend.” A friend I like kissing.

  “Fine with me.” Dad yawned and stood up. “Now that you’re home safe, I’m heading to bed.”

  “I’m gonna stay up for a while,” Toff said. “Sorry to worry you.”

  “Gonna watch me smoke the Pipeline Masters?” Dad grinned at the TV, where another YouTube surfing highlights reel played. “Man, I loved competing in Oahu. What a rush.”

  Toff wanted to ask why his dad was so opposed to him chasing the same rush, but he didn’t want to start another argument.

  After Dad went to bed, Toff remembered he owed someone a text.

  Toff: Yeah, I’ll help
decorate for the party, Wordworm.

  Viv: Yay! I’ll need all your hot air to blow up balloons.

  Toff sent her a GIF of a little boy trying but failing to blow up a balloon, then texted Amy.

  Toff: Thanks for the Dippin’ Dots. And for Rico.

  And for listening, he thought, and making me laugh, but he wasn’t going to get all emo and weird.

  …

  After the conversation with Dad, Toff spent the night tossing and turning, dreaming about penguin weddings on the boardwalk, reading aloud with his mom, and struggling on his surfboard like a baby grommet, unable to catch a wave, slammed under the water over and over again.

  As early-morning light filtered through his bedroom curtains, he gave up trying to sleep. He grabbed his phone, scrolling through Twitter and Instagram. Their goofy pier photo was a hit, especially with the book planet.

  “Cutest real-life #OTP ever!”

  “Omigod, just kiss already.”

  “Hellooo, sailor!”

  Man, those bookworms liked shipping. The picture of Amy staring at the ocean with the #BonnieandClyde hashtag really got them going.

  “True love for @SurferGodCA and @RedheadRecs?!”

  “Surfer + Bookworm = #allthefeels.”

  Excellent. His plan was working to get her as much buzz as he could going into the final challenge. Pretending to be a real-life OTP for Amy’s contest was easy. He liked hanging out with her, and kissing her, and talking to her.

  If he had to fake it with somebody, she was the perfect choice.

  A slither of guilt poked at him, remembering what she’d said about him taking up all the air in the room. He probably should’ve given her a heads-up last night after he posted their pics.

  Checking the HeartRacer contest hashtags, he found a bunch of Twitter chatter about how tough the final challenge was. Some contestants were resorting to bribing their “reluctant romance readers,” which he thought was funny, but that had set off a side drama about how everyone made fun of “the genre of hope.”

  How could reading a book give somebody hope?

  He doubted it would do anything for him, but spending time with Amy on the pier? That had definitely helped. Spilling his guts and having fun all in one night was new for him. He’d liked it. A lot.

  Toff glanced at Redo in the Rockies, still facedown on his desk. Amy would freak. Spine-breaker, that was him.

  “I dunno, Rico. What do you think about these cheesy books?” He side-eyed the penguin who’d spent the night on his extra pillow. “Why’d I even ask you, mate-for-lifer?” he grumbled.

  Yawning, he rolled over and grabbed the book. He’d try reading a few pages to get his head in the game before meeting Amy at the Bean. If he was lucky, the book would put him back to sleep for another couple of hours.

  …

  “How hard is it to hide a dead body?” Amy asked Viv’s mom. “For real.”

  She leaned against the counter in the bookstore, spinning the rack of Shady Cove postcards. Rose sat at the desk, an assortment of pencils stuck in her messy hair bun, unmatched Crocs on her feet, wearing an inside-out T-shirt.

  Rose was deep into drafting a new book—about halfway through, Amy guessed, based on her outfit. When Rose got close to the end, there was a good chance she’d come into the store in her jammies, wondering why customers gave her funny looks.

  “Who do you want to kill, sweetie?” Rose asked.

  “Your almost son,” Amy said, scowling at a postcard of a surfer catching air above a cresting wave.

  “Ah.” Rose folded her hands and smiled indulgently. “What did he do this time?”

  Despite her irritation, Amy’s lips quirked. She really hoped Toff could get past his worries about the wedding. Rose loved him.

  “He’s helping me with the HeartRacer publisher contest,” Amy said, “and he…um…” What could she say? I asked him to stop pretending we’re an OTP to ship, but he did it again last night? I hate it but also secretly love it? Each time he kisses me, I want more?

  “The truth about Toff,” Rose said, “is that underneath all that chest-pounding swagger” —Amy snorted—“and the jokes and the pranks,” Rose continued, her dark-brown eyes going soft, “is a sweet, kind…lost…little boy.”

  For a long moment, neither of them spoke, Rose getting all misty-eyed, Amy thinking about the ragged penguin stuffie on his desk. About the desperation underneath his gruff request for her to come to the engagement party.

  She glanced at the surfer postcard again.

  Stupid squishy alpha hero.

  Amy sighed. “So you won’t help me bury his body?”

  Rose blinked away her thoughts, whatever they were, and shook her head.

  “Nope.” She grinned at Amy with the same gleam in her eye as Viv. “In fact, I’d turn you in and collect the reward.”

  …

  “I’m thinking of suing you,” Amy said, staring Toff down over her iced mocha.

  “For what?”

  “Coaching malpractice. Impersonating an OTP.” She pointed an unwrapped straw at him. “Faking a ship is a high crime and misdemeanor.”

  He laughed, stretching his legs out under the table and bumping her foot with his. “It’s all for a good cause, Bonnie. HeartRacer retweeted our funny pier picture. That’s awesome, right?”

  “It’s cheating, Toff. We’re not a real couple.” She was practically breathing fire…which distracted him. He’d never kissed a dragon before.

  “Yeah, but you said ships can be anybody people want to see together, right? It doesn’t have to be real,” he protested. “It’s like when actors in a movie pretend they’re together so everybody gets all hyped and goes to see the movie.”

  She looked surprised. “How do you even know about that?”

  “I know lots of stuff.”

  “This is real life, Toff, not a movie. Romance isn’t a joke. Not to me.” Her eyes flashed, shining like the pennies he still needed to find. “I asked you not to post any more ship pics, but you did it anyway.”

  “I was gonna delete them after you said that on the pier, but…”

  “But what?”

  Damn. She’d incinerate him with X-ray eyes like Superman if she could. He cleared his throat and sat up straight. Time to get down to business.

  “Look, let’s focus on your final challenge.” Here goes nothing. Maybe the idea he’d come up with would work as an apology, too. “I have good news. I found the perfect reluctant romance reader for you.”

  “You found me a reader?”

  “Yep.” He flashed her the grin that got him out of all sorts of trouble. “Me.”

  Amy opened her mouth to argue, but he held up his hand, putting on a coach face. Not a scary one but a don’t-argue-till-you-hear-me-out face.

  He held up a finger for each point. “One, I’m a reluctant romance reader. Very reluctant. Two, since people are shipping us, they’ll watch our vlog interview—”

  “Our what?”

  He kept going. “Three, you’re going to interview me about the book. Ask me all the stuff you talk about at book club. Bookworm/surfer throw-down.” He grinned. “Make me look like an idiot, I don’t care.”

  “But…but…”

  He tossed Redo in the Rockies on the table. With a bookmark in the pages. He didn’t have a death wish.

  “Give me two days to finish it. I’ve kind of, um, skipped around, but I promise I’ll read it straight through. Dallas can record us, or Viv. I don’t care as long as Viv stays behind the scenes.”

  “Hold up! Let me talk for a minute!” Amy was blasting enough energy to fuel the whole town.

  His chest expanded, full of pride, like it did when one of his teammates won. This wasn’t the same girl he’d rescued from rabid raccoons three weeks ago. She tossed her hair over her shoulder, sticking he
r nose in the air, like Hermione about to rip into Harry and Ron.

  “First”—she held up a finger, mimicking him—“you are not in charge. Second, if we do this, I run the whole thing. You have to do what I say.”

  He nodded, waiting, impressed with Swagger Amy.

  “And third…” She took a deep breath. “Third…it’s not a horrible idea. It might actually work.”

  “Sweet! I knew you’d—”

  “Zip it, Flipper. I’m not finished.” She held up the book like a shield. Or maybe a weapon. “You still owe me an apology for posting pics of us when I asked you not to. That wasn’t cool.”

  He squirmed. “You’re right.” When he met her eyes, the realization hit him square in the chest. Even though he’d had good intentions, he’d overstepped. “I’m sorry, Ames. I really am.”

  She held his gaze for a long moment, then nodded. Why did he feel like the Mother of Dragons had just spared his life?

  “Okay. I believe you.” She sipped from her mocha, then folded her arms on the table. “Remember Dora the Explorer? Swiper no swiping?” She pointed a commanding finger. “That’s you from now on—Flipper no Shipping, got it?”

  “Got it.” He grinned as something warm and tingly fizzed through his veins.

  He couldn’t wait to see Amy win this contest. She was finally stepping out of the shadows. Watching her light up like a rocket and take charge, he knew she’d win.

  Not because of him.

  Because of her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Amy reviewed her plan, happy with what she’d come up with, then texted it to Toff, one line at a time. Coaching her coach felt awesome.

  HeartRacer Contest Final Challenge Plan

  1. @SurferGodCA agrees to be interviewed LIVE on Instagram this Saturday as a reluctant romance reader.

  2. @SurferGodCA finishes Redo in the Rockies. Reads. Every. Word.

  3. @SurferGodCA preps for LIVE interview on Tuesday, using the Hunkalicious Heroes review template.

  4. @RedheadRecs invites followers to view the live interview. @SurferGodCA can retweet or regram the posts but does not do any shipping of the #BonnieandClyde OTP. Swiper no Swiping!