The Bookworm's Guide to Dating

baby after Piper. She died when she was a month old.”
“Oh, my God,” Kinsley breathed. “I had no idea.”
“Why would you? It’s not something I put on billboards and spread around town. I was young and she was only a baby, so I don’t really talk about it. I don’t even know why I am now.”
“I’m so sorry, Josh.” She reached across the table and laid her hand atop mine. “I can’t imagine how that feels.”
I looked down at our hands, her fingers almost linking through mine. “She had severe heart issues from birth, and my parents knew when Mom was pregnant. When it became obvious that she wouldn’t survive, they brought her home. We had two amazing weeks with her before she passed peacefully in my mom’s arms in the hospital. It’s hard, but it’s been twenty-four years.”
“That doesn’t make it easier.” She paused. “So she’d be close in age to me and Piper if she were alive now.”
I tilted my head to the side with a small smile. “I like to think you’d be friends. You’d definitely piss me off on a regular basis.”
Kinsley visibly fought her smile. “I bet she’d be a bookworm like Piper who didn’t want to date.”
“Given our grandmother, that’s a given. She’d probably be a part owner in the bookstore. If not literally, she’d probably keep you open.”
She gave up all pretense of fighting. “What was her name?”
Sadness enveloped me for a moment. “Celeste. It means angel. It’s why Mom chose it.”
“They always knew.”
Slowly, I nodded. “I think so.”
“It’s a beautiful name.” Kinsley’s blue eyes met mine and they were full of sympathy and love. “And if I know anything about being a little sister, I bet she’s cringing at your awful attempt to teach my sorry ass how to date.”
Despite myself, I laughed. Chances were, she wasn’t wrong. After all, Piper probably was, and she had no idea what was going on.
That reminded me. I had to text her and check in tonight.
I shot a fleeting glance toward the ceiling with a smile.
“All right, rate me,” Kinsley said after a moment. “Tell me what I need to fix and what I’m good at.”
Nothing. You’re perfect the way you are.
Talk books to me, Kinsley.
I swallowed back those thoughts and shook my head. “You’re a little slow to react, but that’s nothing that can’t be written off as nervousness. Just keep your snark to a minimum and remember he’s only being polite. Don’t tangent about your books. Do that, and you should be fine.”
“Really? All this to learn that I just need to tone down my attitude?”
I shrugged. “What can I say? He might find your awkwardness endearing.”
She snorted. “Chance would be a fine thing. Now, how are we splitting this bill?”
“We aren’t.” I smiled and pulled out my wallet. “I got it.”
“Josh—”
“I said I got it.”
She clamped her lips together, but she didn’t argue further.
Thank God.
***
“Are you sure this is the new one?”
I stared at Grandma. “I have no idea, Grandma. I took the book Kinsley gave me and ran with it.”
She sniffed. “It took you long enough to bring it here.”
“It might surprise you, but I do have a life.”
“And it’s a vibrant social one, given that you visit me three times a week.” She raised her teacup to her pink lips and sipped. Her penciled-on eyebrows arched uncomfortably. “How exciting.”
“The last time I came once in a week you yelled at me for neglecting you. I’m being a good grandson by visiting you even though you interfere with my dating life.”
She snorted, setting her teacup back on the saucer. “Dating life? What dating life?”
“I have a lively dating life, thank you very much.”
“Yes, so much so that you’re half in love with Kinsley.”
“I am not half in love with Kinsley.”
“I apologize, I misspoke. You’re entirely in love with Kinsley.”
“I am not in love with her.”
“I might be losing my hearing, child, but I’m not losing my mind.”
Well, given her current narrative, that was debatable. Yes, I had a highly inappropriate crush on her, but I was not in love with her.
“Hmph. Fill up my teacup.”
I took it to the dresser at the far end of the room and set it down on the lace cloth she had covering the walnut surface. The teapot was a calming shade of cream with an alarming pattern of blue spreading across it. I was sure it was probably some antique she treasured, but until she bothered to tell me, it was a blue patterned teapot full of English teabags with the little tags hanging out.
Then again, it was just as likely to be something she’d picked up at a thrift store.
“How are the ducks?” I set the teacup and saucer down in front of her on the coffee table.
“Nice change of subject. Your subtlety needs work, though.” She leaned forward and delicately spooned two small heaps of sugar into the cup, then stirred. “The ducks are a great point of contention between Agatha, Mabel, and Rosie. Mabel stands by her assessment they are the ugliest things she’s ever laid eyes on, Agatha is entirely in love with them and spends at least three hours a day sitting by the pond, and Rosie flip-flops between loving or hating them depending on which one of them she wants to piss off.”
“How does Rosie actually feel about them?”
Grandma raised her cup to her lips and peered at me over the rim. “She doesn’t give a damn, dear.”
I wasn’t surprised at that at all.
“So it’s livened things up around here.”
“Mm. Not that it needed livening up, mind you. It’s not exactly quiet here anyway. If you ask me, they’ve provided more problems than they have anything else. The pond was supposed to be a nice area for us to sit, but now the ducks are here, they’re building another one. Another one! It’s nice to know our exorbitant fees are being used well,” she finished dryly.
I couldn’t help but agree with her on that. I was privy