The Bookworm's Guide to Faking (The Bookworm's Guide #2) - Emma Hart Page 0,19

café was warm and toasty, and I scanned the tables, pausing when the door opened a very familiar brunette stepped inside.

I fought a smile.

Holley.

CHAPTER SEVEN – SEBASTIAN

rule seven: don’t insult her. she’ll drag you into next week.

She meandered up to the counter in her own little world. Her hair was pulled into pigtails that somehow suited her despite the fact she was no longer eight years old, and she wasn’t wearing her usual black-rimmed glasses. Her legs were accentuated by the tight workout pants she was wearing, but her upper body was swamped by a huge, light pink hoodie that had a bulging pocket at the front.

“Hi, Johanna,” she said, burying her hand in the pocket. “Can I get a latte to go and a bear claw? Oh, and Leona asked me to pick up the order today since they’re short-staffed.”

Aw, man. A bear claw. Nobody did bear claws like Johanna and Felicity.

“Hey, Johanna, I’ll have one of those bear claws, too!”

Holley’s head jerked in my direction, and her lips tightened when her gaze landed on me. “Someone hates me today.”

I grinned as Johanna motioned that she had me covered. “Morning, sunshine. You look a little active for a bookworm.”

She pulled an earbud from her ear and waved it. “There’s more than one way to read a book, baller.”

Baller.

She’d taken to calling me that when we were teens when she wanted to piss me off. The first time had been an accident, but when she’d realized I hated it, it’d stuck.

I still fucking hated it.

Mostly because, despite my height, I’d never been able to play basketball, and that wasn’t about to change now.

“Why don’t you sit down, darlin’?” Johanna said. “Those bear claws are still in the oven, and I need to get that order together. It’ll be a few minutes.”

Holley glanced at me. “No problem.” She pushed off the counter and sat at the table three away from me.

“Oh, come on,” I said, smirking. “Don’t be so rude.”

She answered by offering me a clear look at her middle finger and not saying a word.

“Don’t make me come over there.”

“Come over all you like,” she replied, pulling her phone out of her pocket. “It doesn’t mean I’m going to talk to you.”

All right, then. That wasn’t an invitation I was going to pass up.

I got up and joined her, making sure the chair screeched just a little as I pulled it out. I saw down and leaned forward on the table. It wobbled with the pressure of my elbows, and she held her phone tight until it stilled, then resumed her tapping against the screen.

A light hum came from the earbud she had nestled in her right ear, and her thumbs moved across the phone at a lightning speed I was jealous of.

Maybe if mine moved that fast, I’d be able to avoid my mother’s calls.

“So,” I said after a minute.

She said nothing.

“Did you get my text?”

Still nothing.

“The address for the wedding. I reserved you a parking spot.”

She glanced up, her eyelashes fluttering as she looked at me with annoyance. “I replied, so obviously I got it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Nothing.

“You do know you’re going to have to talk to me at the wedding, don’t you?”

Sighing, she tapped the screen, then hit a button on the side of her phone and put it down. “Yes, Sebastian. I’m aware. I thought it was obvious I was holding all my words until then.”

“Oh, was that what you were doing? I thought you were just listening to your book.”

“I was. The hero was about to bang her against a door. This conversation better be worth pausing my audiobook for.” She stared at me across the table. “Well?”

I blinked. “I have no idea how to respond to that.”

“An apology would be a good start.”

“I’m sorry I interrupted your porn?”

Without a word, she got up and moved another three tables away.

All right, that wasn’t the right answer.

I followed her over there. “I’m sorry I interrupted your book?”

She stared at me blandly. “Do you know how sick and tired I am of having to defend my choice in books? Do you know how many times a week I have to explain to people that romance novels are not ‘mommy porn’ or ‘smut’ or whatever other derogatory term is the flavor of the day?”

She didn’t want an answer to that.

I didn’t know much, but I did know that I was supposed to shut up right now.

“I literally could not give a damn if you judge me for listening