Page 8 of Check You Out

“Hey Aidan,” I say, putting on my best smile and flipping my hair back. “Do you think you could walk me home?”

4

Aidan

I gawk at Charlotte for a long second and blink a few times.

There’s no way in hell I’m going to say no. One, it would be rude. Two, I want to walk her home. This is my chance to talk to Charlotte and she created it. I didn’t even have to find an opening. She swung open the door and said, Come on in!

This should be so easy. Incredibly easy.

Conjuring courage out of thin air, I reply, “S-s-sure.”

Xander slaps me hard on the back and walks by me toward the concrete stairs that lead down to Main Street. “Good luck, buddy,” he mutters before saying louder, “I need to let the dogs out. Bye Charlotte.”

She waves at him. “Bye Xander. Come by the store sometime.”

He calls over his shoulder, “I can’t read.”

I turn to her, jabbing a finger in his direction and spluttering out, “He can definitely read. I know he can. He just doesn’t read books.”

One of her eyebrows raises. “I know. It’s an old joke that he used to tell to annoy the teachers. Several took it seriously. He just says it to annoy me.”

Anxiety bubbles in my stomach and a lump starts to form in my throat. “I didn’t know you guys were close.”

What if she wants to go out with Xander? What if he wants to go out with her? He didn’t say anything when I mentioned my crush when I first moved in a month ago.

She lifts one shoulder. “I’m a lot closer to his sister. But his role has evolved from being my best friend’s annoying older brother to being my adoptive annoying older brother.”

I nod, relief coursing through my veins.

“Shall we?” She gestures toward Main Street below us. The night air is soft and somewhat balmy, but it’s still cool. Summer is coming and, with it, those blasted mosquitoes.

“Where do you live?” I ask.

She turns to me. “Above the bookstore.” She points to the building that I recognize as Sunflower Books. The lights of the bookstore glow on the wet pavement. A Pride flag hangs just over the door, shifting in the late spring breeze.

Not a long walk. Damn. Not much time for me to somehow gather some courage and be charming.

Platypuses can be charming, right?

“Cool. I live on Willow Street, with Xander,” I somehow manage to squeak out despite the lump clogging my throat.

“Yes, I know,” she replies with a smile that looks wicked in the streetlight, but her voice seems light and friendly. Not at all strained like I would expect from someone who thinks I’m too weird to talk to. She shoves her hands into her pockets, and we start walking down the stairs. The library is situated on top of a steep hill that overlooks town.

“Right. So, you like books?” I squeak out, groaning inwardly. Fuck, I didn’t anticipate small talk. Platypuses don’t like small talk.

She lets out a soft chuckle. “I do. It’s why I have the bookstore. What’s your favorite book?”

Suddenly, I’ve forgotten every book I’ve ever read. “I can’t choose.”

She nods, dancing lightly on her toes. “Let me guess, you love so many that you can’t choose just one. What about a favorite genre?” she asks, her eyes sparkling in the twinkling lights wrapped around the iron handrail bordering the stairs. “Surely, you have a favorite genre?”

I bite my lip and let out a sigh through clenched teeth. “I don’t have a favorite genre.”

She chuckles again, but there’s a hint of annoyance in the sound. What am I doing wrong? I’m not good at this whole conversation aspect, and I’m clearly not doing it right.

We reach the bottom of the hill and step onto the concrete sidewalk of Main Street. The bookstore is across the street.