The Summer of Lost Letters by Hannah Reynolds

Author:Hannah Reynolds [Reynolds, Hannah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Young Readers Group
Published: 2021-06-15T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

“Hey there, bookstore girl.”

I froze on the step stool, my arms filled with sharp-edged children’s books. I’d been arranging and rearranging these shelves for five minutes in order to fit a dozen copies of this title in a face-out. Now I carefully turned on the top of the stool. “Tyler! Hi.”

He grinned up at me. “Need some help?”

“Actually, can you hold these for a second?” I spilled the books into his arms and jumped down. “I’ve been trying to shelve them for ages, but I think I’m going to have to reconfigure three other shelves before it works.”

“Oh.”

Right. Not everyone found the organization of bookshelves enthralling. I took the books back, placing them on the cart where they could wait until I’d made room. “What’s up?”

“Doing some gift shopping. It’s my mom’s birthday tomorrow. I’m getting her a book on her list.”

“What a good son. What is it?”

“The new Karin Slaughter. Unless you have other suggestions?”

“You’ve asked my favorite question. What does she like?”

We chattered for a few minutes about books and his mom. Then I rang him up for the new Slaughter and a thriller by a debut author both Maggie and Liz had raved about. When I handed him his bag, his fingers brushed mine, and I was pretty sure it was on purpose.

“When are you done?” he asked. “Want to grab dinner?”

I blinked.

Oh my god. Tyler was asking me out. The hot rich kid was asking out the bookish girl. Even better, I looked great today. (Modesty has a place, but not in my head.) Noah and I planned to meet the rabbi later, so I’d picked out a particularly nice blue dress and added silver jewelry, because even if we weren’t really going to temple, it sort of felt like we were. I’d tamed my flyaway hair with a dime of product and finagled a French twist to keep it off my neck. “Tonight I’m busy, but maybe next week?”

“Sure. What are you doing Monday?”

“Having dinner with you,” I said, then stifled a wince because rom-com phrases sounded ridiculous in real life.

But it worked, because Tyler grinned. “Give me your phone. I’ll put in my number.”

I watched, rapt, as he followed through. As he handed my phone back, the door bells chimed. Tyler caught sight of the newcomer first. His grin froze for a moment, then widened. “Hey, man.”

Oh no.

I turned to find Noah standing inside the shop’s door. Apparently, the punishment for using a rom-com phrase was dealing with situational awkwardness. Noah stared at us, surprise clear on his face, and I stared back. He’d also dressed up, in a blue button-down, and his hair was slightly damp, as though he’d recently showered. He managed a curt nod. “Hey.”

“Hi.” I tried to push up my glasses, though of course today I wore contacts. “You’re early.”

He didn’t deign to respond, which, fair.

“How’s it going?” Tyler asked him.

Noah’s gaze passed over him, cool and expressionless. “Good.”

Cooool, I loved this. “I’ll let Maggie know I’m leaving and we can go.

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