Two days after Thanksgiving dinner, I was disturbed during my lunch break again. The thought struck me that perhaps I really should consider locking the door more often, but it had always been open when my grandma still ran the store, and that was that.

“Zander, are you in?” I heard Mrs. Fawnston call.

“Over here,” I said, stepping out of my small office. I'd left my desk the moment I heard the door bells chime.

“Oh, there you are. Shall we go into your office? I figured you'd have a minute over lunch. I brought your book.” She held it up.

To be honest, with everything that was going on in my life, I'd totally forgotten that she wanted to discuss that with me. I hadn't even started writing the next one yet. Perhaps I should. It would make a nice, productive distraction from thinking about Nick.

Without waiting for a response, Mrs. Fawnston walked by me into my office and I felt like I had no choice but to follow her.

“Seriously, I feel like this is one of your strongest works,” she said, waving the book in her hand. I could see that she'd stuck colorful post-it notes between some of the pages. “If not the strongest book you've written so far. There was just... more emotion in it?” she mused. “I could really feel the characters struggling to accept their newfound love for each other.”

I sank into my chair behind my small desk, crossing my hands behind my neck. Mrs. Fawnston didn't have the faintest idea how much I could sympathize with the characters I had created just now. Life was funny like that. I wasn't sure whether or not I regretted having given this book to Nick. “I'm glad that you enjoyed the book. My editor liked it too, even though it is a bit cliché, the whole fake-relationship thing.”

“Pah.” Mrs. Fawnston gestured with her hand. “It's a cliché because it works. You write about love, Zander, and you do it so well I can feel it every time. That's all that matters in the end.” She put the book down on my desk and looked at me. “It's just a shame you haven't found someone for yourself yet. Perhaps you really should let your parents help.”

I raised an eyebrow at her. “Arranged marriage? You believe in that?”

“All I'm saying is you could let your parents introduce you to some people. You don't have to marry them right away.” She winked at me. “I know you're not one to fall in love quickly. It always takes your characters so long to confess to each other too.”

I shook my head. “The only time I've ever fallen in love I never even noticed it until I was already in too deep. Mind you, I was still a child at the time. Perhaps it wasn't love at all.”

She scoffed. “I'm pretty sure you know best what you were feeling. Don't disregard it because you were young. I met my husband in middle school and we were together for twenty long years.”

“I met him earlier than middle school. He moved away during middle school.” What might have been if he hadn't? I would never know. There was so much I didn't know now.

“And it still bothers you?” Mrs. Fawnston asked, eyeing me closely.

I wasn't sure why I was telling her all of this. Perhaps for no other reason than that she was there and I needed to make sense of the chaos that had broken lose inside my head the moment Nick walked into the store with Conner last week.

“I actually thought I was over it until I saw him again,” I told Mrs. Fawnston. Sure, I occasionally thought about him while I was writing my books, but that was different. Wasn't it?

“When was that?”

“He's in town right now.” Staying a little bit longer than intended so we could fake being married in order to visit his brother together.

I couldn't believe this was my life.

“He's around?” Both of Mrs. Fawnston's eyebrows went up. “Have you talked to him?”

I licked my lips. “I’d say we did a little more than talk.”

Mrs. Fawnston looked at me with question marks all over her face.

“Remember how I told you my mother wanted to set me up?” I couldn't stop myself from telling the story. A captive audience was my downfall. “I brought him to Thanksgiving dinner with me and told my mother we were together. We had to make it look convincing, of course.”

“Oh Zander, what did you do?” She talked to me like a mother to her child—which was a rather novel experience for me. My mother had never much sounded like a mother.

“I kissed him,” I said with a shrug, trying too hard to appear casual. “Once for practice and once in front of the family. I think it convinced them.”

Mrs. Fawnston tilted her head. “And? What was it like?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but didn't know what to say. After a moment, the words came to me. Just the right ones. “It was everything,” I said.

Mrs. Fawnston smiled softly. “You still love him.”

I shook my head. “I don't know if I'm in love with him or a memory.”

“You can't kiss a memory, boy.”

She had a point there.

“How long is he staying in town for?” she asked.

“A few more days, and then we'll go on a sort of road trip together.”

“A road trip? Sounds fun. But that also means you'll be spending plenty of time in close quarters.”

“I suppose so.”

“You have to tell him.”

I inhaled. “I was afraid you might say that.” Running a hand through my hair, I tried to consider this calmly. I’d confessed to Nick before, and it hadn't done me much good. In fact, it had pretty much marked the end of whatever it was we had.

What if that happened again?

Outside my little office, the door bells chimed.

“Mr. Kerner?”

That was Conner.

I sighed. Why did I even bother putting up a Closed sign? I got up from my desk and walked into the store. “I’m on my lunch break.”

“But it’s already ten past 1 p.m. You usually re-open at 1 p.m. I’ve waited.”

Glancing at my watch told me that he was right. “I suppose I got caught up chatting with a friend.” I gestured at Mrs. Fawnston stepping out of the office behind me.

“Oh.” Conner looked at his feet, then he held a bag up to me. “I brought sandwiches.”

I almost had to laugh. How could I be mad at Conner when he tried to console me with sandwiches?

“Any tuna in there?” I asked.

“Yes!” He beamed, handing the bag to me.

“Thank you.” I reached in and grabbed a sandwich. Come to think of it, I really hadn't had a chance to eat yet. Noticing that there was a second sandwich in the bag, I gave it to Conner. “You know, you'd have more money to buy books if you spent less on sandwiches.”

He shrugged. “It's all right. My dad and Kade never really mind giving me book money. Besides, I'm not here to buy anything today.”

“Oh, you're not?” I tried to fake a sad face, but I'd never been a great actor. Good thing I really cared about Nick, or I never would have been able to fool my parents.

“All right, boys,” Mrs. Fawnston said, stepping past me. “I gotta get going. There are candles waiting to be made.” Before leaving, she shot me one last meaningful glance. “Don't wait until it's too late, Zander.”

With that, she was gone.

“What did she mean?” Conner asked.

“That you're too curious for your own good.” The boy really didn't need to know that I was faking a relationship with his dad's cousin. Biting into my sandwich, I went to sit in the chair behind the register, but found it occupied by my dog. Well then. Betty had earned her rest more than I had. I turned to Conner again. “What are you doing here if you're not looking to buy? Hiding again?”

“Kind of? I don't know. My family is being stupid. Everyone is being stupid.”

That was a sentiment I could sympathize with. I'd certainly had days like that when I was Conner's age, and even now sometimes.

“You can hang out for a while if you'd like to,” I said. “Provided you've walked your dog.”

“I have!”

“Good. You can read, but be careful with the books.” I knew he would be. Otherwise I'd never give permission.

“Really?” He looked as if I'd just given him tickets to Disney World. “Great!”

“Get to it before I change my mind.”

He didn't need to be told twice.

For a while, everything was quiet in the store. Conner was busy scanning my shelves for all the books he wanted to read, and I picked up the copy of The Mating Rituals of Homosexual Penguins that still lay on the table next to the register. I should probably put it back, but I'd started paging through it whenever I had some down time in the store, and it was actually quite interesting.

The silence didn't last forever, though. I'd only just gotten absorbed in my reading when Conner spoke up.

“Mr. Kerner? Could I ask you a question?”

I peered at him over the top of the book. “What do you want to know?”

“Just um...” Conner shifted his weight from one foot to the other. I put my book down, intrigued. It wasn't like Conner to be this nervous about asking a question. Finally, he got the words out. “Is it true that all alphas want their omegas to have their babies?”

I felt my eyebrows go up higher than they ever had before. Where did that come from? And wasn't this the kind of talk Conner should be having with his parents rather than me? Running a hand through my hair, I shook my head. “It's very difficult to make any statement that applies to all alphas,” I tried to dissuade Conner.

“Then just tell me about your experience,” he pressed on.

“I'm sorry. I don't have any experience with that. Honestly, I think I'd make a fairly poor parent.” I was too absorbed in my work, in my books.

Funny then, that one of my books was starting to become my reality.

“I don't think you would be a bad parent,” Conner said.

“That's only because you're not as difficult as other children.”

“Is that a compliment?” Conner gave a small sigh. “I don't get other children.”

I had to laugh at that, if only for a second. “I was the same when I was your age.”

“Does it get better?”

“Well, at some point, your peers will grow up too. At least, a few of them will,” I added. Not everyone managed to grow up. “And you'll learn that you don't need to have a ton of friends. One or two close ones will do.”

“I have that. I think.” He licked his lips. “Actually, Jake and I are fighting right now so I don't know.”

I made a discarding gesture with my hand. “It's normal to fight from time to time.” I would never forget that day I accidentally broke Nick's favorite mix tape by stepping on it and he threw my book into a lake.

Conner studied his feet. “It might be my fault.”

“I'm sure whatever you did it wasn't that bad. Probably nothing that can't be fixed with an apology.”

“Maybe... What if I don't really feel sorry? Like, I'm sorry that we're fighting but I meant what I said.”

“What did you say?” I asked, leaning forward.

Conner turned away from the book shelves and walked toward me, shoulders slumped. He clearly knew that whatever it was he'd said, he shouldn't have, even if he meant it. “I told him that all his new friends only like him because his dad's got money.”

I nodded. “That's a serious accusation to make.”

“It's true, though,” Conner insisted. “Nobody really talked to him much before he invited them to his mega birthday party this summer. His parents spent a lot of money on that.”

“Have you considered the possibility that once the other kids had a chance to get to know Jake, they actually liked him? You're his friend. Surely you must think there's something to like about him.”

“I do! But these kids are just so... shallow.”

I looked at Conner in sympathy. He was jealous. I certainly knew what that felt like. Nick had always had an easier time making friends than me. Sometimes it was hard to get him alone and I wanted him for myself. “Conner, when you're telling Jake that his friends only like his money, you're telling him you don't see any other reason to like him.”

“But that's not true.” Conner sighed, frustration showing on his face. “There's a lot to like about him!”

“I'm not the one you need to tell that.”

“You think I need to tell Jake that I like him?”

I strangled noise escaped my throat. Half-laugh, half-sigh. Was I in the process of giving Conner the same advice Mrs. Fawnston had imparted on me? “Yes, Conner, you should tell him that.”

I glanced toward the door where Mrs. Fawnston had left.

Perhaps the old lady had a point after all.