Page 56 of Bonfire and Bliss Bookstore

“Still a surprise.”

Monty gives me carte blanche to choose whatever I want on the radio, and once I find a classic rock station, we roll down the windows and yell-sing the lyrics to every song. As it’s the third Saturday in September, fall decorations, including some more spooky ones, are starting to sprout up on Maple Lane. Cranberry mums, golden gourds, and round orange pumpkins dress the sidewalks, and I can’t help but smile at the sight. By the time we hit the highway, I’m grinning from ear to ear. The leaves are the most beautiful shades of yellow and red. If Monty’s date idea is to drive around and sing in the car to check out the fall foliage, he’ll have scored a perfect ten on the dating scoreboard. Though I’m not upset when we take the exit for the city forty-five minutes later.

I’m even happier when he parks the car and guides me toward the biggest romance bookstore in Boston.

“Are we going inside?” I ask, eyes glued to the gorgeous store in front of us—the outside is painted in a bubblegum pink and topped with a striped white-and-red awning. Little hearts and Hot Girls Read Books stickers adorn the windows; it’s loud in its celebration of the genre and my heart skips a beat.

“Yup.”

I finally tear my gaze away from the store and face Monty. “Oh my God. This might be the best date ever.”

“You sure?” Monty stares at me for a moment, a little uncertain. “Because I know you own a bookstore…I just thought maybe you’d like to—”

“I’ve been dying to see this one,” I say, cutting him off.

Monty’s mouth lifts and he holds out a hand. “Okay, Xuxuzinho, let’s go explore.”

For the next hour Monty walks up and down aisles with me and listens as I sell him on every book I recognize. I pull each one from the shelf, list off the tropes, and explain what I love most about it. The whole time Monty wears that same smile—mouth curved up, eyes crinkled—like he isn’t just humoring me but actually enjoying himself.

As we round the small-town-romance aisle, Monty steps up close, his mouth just below my ear. “So which one are we getting?”

I shift so I can see him, and his mouth brushes against my cheek. “We’re getting one?”

He nods toward the shelves. “Yeah, we need it for the next part of our date.”

I’m unable to contain my giddy smile. “Okay.”

I select a seasonal book that has a gorgeous cover and that I’ve heard great things about but haven’t yet read. After the clerk rings us up, Monty takes my hand and guides me out onto the sidewalk.

It’s a mild fall day in the city, but nothing warms me quite as much as the way Monty’s thumb rubs gently against my hand, as if he’s savoring the touch.

It makes me wonder whether he’s as touch starved as me. I don’t have a deep understanding of Monty’s relationship history but, with those big, inked arms and sexy glasses, I’m sure he’s never wanted for attention.

“You must be very touchy in a real relationship,” I blurt out.

If he’s surprised by my outburst, he doesn’t show it. “Not really. I’ve never been one for casual touch,” Monty replies. “Plus, I don’t do relationships.”

I frown as I recall the many bonfire nights when Monty would wrap an arm around me to keep me warm while I read as he just gazed out at the harbor.

“You were always pretty touchy in high school.”

“With who?” he asks, amused.

“Me?”

“That’s because it was you.”

“And?” I prod.

“You’re different.”

I try to understand what he’s saying. “Because this is fake?”

Monty stops walking for a moment and turns to me, a serious look on his face. “No, Xuxuzinho. Because you’ve always been my closest friend. Because I’ve never not wanted to touch you—then or now.”

“Oh.”

He tugs on my hand and starts walking again. “I was thinking, after finding you dancing with my father—” I glance at him and he smiles. “It was nice. We haven’t danced in my house in a long time.”