Books that tie us together

Talking

A simple nod. That's all I give him, because I'm not letting him know what passed my mind when he said that.
"THAT'S SO CUTE!" is not an expression this soulless person would like very much or appreciate whatsoever so I keep it to myself.

Turning around again I put the books that are on my hands in the lower section of the trolley, and straighten my body, scanning the shelves I try to find what I'm looking for.

I snap my fingers when I do, The Spanish Love Deception.

It's romance and the main character is as cold as him, at least in the beginning of the story, anyways, my point is that I think it fits perfectly.

"This is one of my favorites, it has almost every trope you could imagine: fake dating, one bed trope, enemies to lovers, etc." I say while counting with my fingers.

"It's written from the main character's point of view, the girl, not the guy." I finish and look up at him just to find him already staring at me. I get nervous all the sudden. Maybe I should tell him it has a little bit of smut, but that would be an awkward conversation I'd like to avoid.

"What do you think?" I ask him, handing him the book so he can read the back.

He takes his time studying this one, where a little summary about what the book is about is. I seriously love this book, so I always recommend it, but recommending it to HIM makes me feel like I'm letting him get inside my mind, like it's a little part of me, and I don't like that one but.

He nods and looks down at me again. I walk past him in the direction of my wooden desk where the cash register is.
"Well, that'd be $20.02. Would you like a bag?" Another nod, and I start to wonder how many words he says in one day, probably not even half of the amount I say.

Handing the cardboard bag that has our logo printed in it I say a quick thank you for his purchase, and start heading towards the Romance section again to finish organizing the shelves.

That's when I feel a tuck on my arm, or more like someone grabbing my elbow stopping me from walking.

I move my body to the direction and realize whose hand is touching me. My head bows to the side like asking him what he is doing, but he only stares at my face, again.

I wonder if he might have recognized me, but we never really talked before so it wouldn't make any sense. Plus, it's not like I know him, I know his face, I saw it for 4 years consecutive almost every day in the hallways and in some classes too, but that's about it.

We never talked, not even when a girl I used to hang out with started dating his friend, not even when I heard my psych teacher telling him he would need a tutor, because I was too chicken out to tell him I could help.

He let's go of my arm and with a quick nod I see him walking out of the bookstore.