21. Reality > Fiction

21

Reality Fiction

Alice

I am not losing this scavenger hunt. I've waited all my life for a guy to take me on a date at a bookstore, and I intend to make the most of it. Though in a way, I've already won just by being here with Deacon, finally having found a guy who knows me. Although since we were kind of friends before this, he has an unfair advantage, but either way, I'm winning this thing.

And not because I don't want to pay for dinner.

Because I'm a bookish girl, and this is my moment to shine.

I already found a book that reminds me of Deacon—hello grumpy neighbor romance—along with a pink book for my favorite color and a romance book with a neighbor, so similar to my relationship with Deacon. I should get bonus points for that because it's enemies to lovers. Okay, I might be getting ahead of myself here.

I also snapped a picture of a novel by one of my favorite authors, Alexandra Bowe, since she has the same initials as me, and one with a cat on the cover. Next, I locate a book with a character named Deacon that I read last year.

I glance at the clock. Only twenty minutes to go, but I'm in good shape, having just stumbled upon the Travel section. Where's a place I'd like to visit? Honestly, everywhere. A travel book of Hawaii catches my attention. Definitely a location on my bucket list. I snap a picture and walk to the Children's section. This one is easy. I take a picture of La Belle et La Bête . As distant relatives of one of the original authors, my brother and I read this book a lot growing up, and it has a special place in my heart.

I check my list one more time. Only two to go, and they're the trickiest. A book I think Deacon might enjoy, and a book cover with a model that reminds me of him. That's insane. No one reminds me of Deacon. He's Deacon . Unique and different. I'll do that one last. Now, what kind of book would Deacon enjoy?

Maybe a thriller. Who doesn't like a good thriller? I head to the New Release section and snap a picture of the latest Devika Miller book.

With only ten minutes on the clock, I fear I might not make it. I hurry back to the Romance section, but this time to the spicy corner, where I should have a nice selection of hot male models on book covers. I first scan the new releases and the various display tables so I don't have to pull out the books. And, bingo. There's a broody guy staring straight at me with intense cobalt eyes. His hair is a little more salt than pepper, but he has Deacon's haircut and a similar frown. He'll do. I take a picture before half-sprinting back to the front of the store. I look around. Deacon isn't here yet, which can only mean one thing. I won! Even if there's a tie, I still got here first. I'm a little sweaty and out of breath from that last run, but I saved my bookish honor. My friends would be proud.

I've barely had time to catch my breath when Deacon arrives, hurrying until he sees I'm already there. He drops his arms in defeat and walks toward me.

I offer him a smug smile. "Looks like someone was a little too confident."

"Do you have everything?" he asks, arching an eyebrow .

I scoff. "Of course."

"Okay." He nods. "I should have known better than to challenge a bookworm ."

I chuckle, remembering the first time I used the term in front of him. It seems like a lifetime ago. "Well, let's see what you got."

"I'm missing one." He grimaces. "So, you win either way. Let's compare pictures while we eat?"

"Perfect." I smirk. "I'm in the mood for caviar and truffles."

He laughs, taking my hand as we exit the store. "Sounds good. Let's go."

Deacon was totally going to bring me to an expensive place that serves caviar and truffles, so I told him I changed my mind and really wanted pasta, just as we were passing an Italian restaurant. It's a cozy place with a small dining room and few tables. Luckily, a window table at the back of the room is available. We both order some drinks before pulling our phones out to show off our finds.

My excitement level is through the roof. I don't think I've ever had so much fun on a date. "You go first," I say, eager to see what he picked.

"Let's go prompt by prompt, and we both show what we found, starting with a book with a character who shares your date's name."

"I knew you were going to pick Alice in Wonderland ," I say, rolling my eyes. "Way too easy."

"Hey." He scowls. "I still lost, remember?"

I chuckle. "Right."

"Well, that's a book I could never read," he says, glancing at me. "Can you even read Alice in Wonderland, or would you just picture yourself as the character?"

"Yeah. But I wouldn't read a romance novel with a main character who had my name," I joke.

Our waiter interrupts us to bring our drinks, then takes our order. When he leaves, we continue our way down the list. I learn that Deacon's favorite color is blue, and funny enough, we both picked Hawaii as our destination of choice.

"Maybe we'll even go together some day," he suggests with that gravelly voice of his, and I get goosebumps all the way to my neck. Deacon Collier is really good at this dating thing.

I remove the little umbrella from my cocktail and take a sip. "I'd love to. "

"Okay, next is the children's book. Here's mine," he says, showing me a picture of Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson.

"Oh, is that what gave you the idea of a scavenger hunt?" I ask, taking another sip.

He chuckles. "Yeah, kind of. My mom and grandma loved treasure hunts and scavenger hunts. They used to put them together for us all the time."

"I love that. It's such a fun activity. I, for one, had a blast. Thank you."

He flashes me a bright smile, and I don't think my heart is equipped to handle those pearly whites. It's now rattling like crazy in my chest and doing a weird jiggly dance that has me worried for a second, until it settles down. Oof, this man's smile is dangerous. It should come with a proper warning.

"I had fun too," he says, placing a hand around his glass. "What's your pick?"

"Oh, I chose Beauty and the Beast . My mom used to read it with me all the time when I was young. We read it in both French and English. Funny story behind that—my dad is actually a distant descendant of Jeanne-Marie Leprince de Beaumont, who abridged the original version of the story."

"No way! That's really cool. I didn't know I was in the presence of a literary legend's relative. "

I laugh, sipping my cocktail through the bamboo straw. "Yep."

We share our "initial twin" authors and our favorite animals before moving to the book we thought the other would enjoy.

He picked a romcom that I've already read by Liz Fox.

"I knew it," he says, shaking his head. "You've probably read the entire romcom section."

"That's a definite possibility," I say with a chuckle. "Here's mine."

He glimpses the picture on my phone and nods. "That looks interesting. I could read that."

"You should listen to it. The experience is even better," I say, giving a firm nod.

"Why do you love audiobooks so much?"

I shrug. "I don't know. It just feels more alive, more vibrant, you know? It's such an immersive experience. And I love voices."

"Voices?" He arches an eyebrow.

"Yeah," I say, feeling my cheeks warming. "A little weird, I know. I have a thing for men's voices. Wait until you hear I buy books because of the narrator."

"Oh, wow," he says, sitting back. "Should I be worried?"

I cast him a smirk. "Oh, absolutely not. Your voice is definitely audiobook narrator material. You should think about changing professions."

He belts out a laugh. "Good to know." When he places his hand over mine, tiny tingles trail up my arm. We stay like that for a while, even if it's harder to show each other the rest of the pictures with only one hand. The next one is the "similar to our relationship" pick, and I show him the enemies-to-lovers neighbor romance.

He chuckles. "That's a good one. I also got a neighbor book," he says, showing me his choice, The Neighbor Situation by Leslie Baumeister.

"Now, the one that reminds us of each other," I say, flashing my other neighbor romance, this time starring the grumpy character.

His smile lights up the restaurant. "Another neighbor book? How many of those are there?"

"A lot." I laugh. "It's a pretty popular trope."

His forehead wrinkles. "Trope?"

"Yeah, you know, the cliché that everyone loves to read. They're often a big portion of the plot, or they could be character related, like the grump or the hockey player."

"Okay. And ‘neighbor' is a hit, huh?" he croons, dragging a hand along his beard. I wish I could be the one doing that .

"Oh yeah," I say, giving him a teasing look as our eyes meet.

He responds with a teasing look of his own. "This was the one I chose," he says, showing me his phone. It looks like another romance book, and the title is The Perfect One .

I gulp, and he squeezes my hand. "Deacon . . ."

"I mean it, Alice. I feel like such a moron for having so easily dismissed what we have. Ever since I met you, you've had such a positive influence on me. You've brightened my life. I know it's super weird to say that on a first date, but . . ."

I chuckle, though it sounds more like a giggle. Because that's how I feel, all warm and giddy. "Don't worry. We're way past weird. I did share my bizarre love for men's voices, after all."

He laughs, and his fingers caress my hand. I take comfort in the gesture, enjoying how his callused fingertips subtly scratch my palm.

"Last one," he says, clearing his throat.

"Right. Here it is," I say, showing him the cover model I chose.

He frowns and leans back, which unfortunately means we break hand contact. I want to protest, but he speaks first. "How old do you think I am, exactly? "

I grimace. "I didn't have a lot of time, and he kind of looks like you. Same hairstyle, eye color, and that frown."

He rolls his eyes. "I don't frown."

"Um, yeah you do. Check out those frown lines in the mirror when you get home," I say, trying hard not to smile.

"Fine, but I don't have gray hair. And for the record, I'm only thirty-five." He crosses his arms over his chest like a petulant child. Only he has biceps, and I'm pretty sure he's rocking a six pack under that navy-blue sweater. Also, thirty-five? He may not be old, but he's still thirteen years my senior. Not that it really changes anything. At our age, it's really just a number. Plus, I've always had a thing for age-gap romances.

I bite my bottom lip. "You don't have as many gray hairs, but you do have some ."

He opens his mouth to protest, but I'm faster.

"And I find that incredibly sexy," I add, licking my lips.

His eyes widen, and he leans forward. "Is that so?"

"Definitely."

"Is that another fetish of yours, men with gray hair?"

I laugh out loud, throwing my head back. "Maybe. One I didn't know I had."

"So really, what you're saying is that I'm the perfect man for you. Is that right? "

When did Deacon become such a flirt? Not that I'm complaining. I love this new version of him. Even if I know the grump is just around the corner.

"I think that's what I'm saying," I admit, and my gaze drops to his lips. "Why are you sitting so far away?"

In a swift movement, he sits next to me, and we're both laughing. "Just had to say the word," he says, tucking my hair behind my ear. Then, he leans forward.

"Wait." I place a hand on his chest and notice how fast his heart is beating. Probably as fast as mine. Maybe they should have a race to see who wins. "You didn't show me yours."

"I don't have it, remember?" he mumbles, his voice softer now. "I couldn't find anyone remotely as pretty as you."

Okay, I'm swooning big time. Now, I'm sure of it—Deacon Collier is Real Life Boyfriend material.

He caresses my cheek, and I melt into his kiss. I love the way his lips trap mine. His kisses aren't fast or sloppy. More skillful, experienced. Like he knows exactly what will make my pulse spike or my skin prickle. My fingers tangle in his hair, echoing my desire to feel him closer, but a clinking glass at a distance reminds me of where we are. Deacon probably heard it too, because he pulls away, fire still smoldering in his eyes .

Good thing he has some self-control, ‘cause right now, I don't have an ounce of it.

"Um." He clears his throat. "Maybe I'll go back to my seat."

"Wise idea." I take a sip of my water, suddenly wishing it was ice cold.

"I have to save some of my moves for when I say goodbye," he says, winking as he grabs his glass.

Yeah, Deacon Collier is the ultimate Real Life Boyfriend. And as weird as it may sound, I'm now dying for this date to end so we can say goodbye. Properly.