Out of Focus (Love in LA #3)

“Yeah,” he smiles. “Seemed appropriate, you know? Plus, I couldn’t find any pumpkin stuff this time of year, and strawberry shortcake looked a bit messy to be eaten in the car.” He looks downright smug, jutting his chin, so proud of himself for what he’s done. Shockingly it doesn’t take away from the cuteness of the whole thing. I take a bite of the cake, and it’s incredible. Perfect consistency and the icing tastes fresh.

“Mmm. Wow,” I say around my bite. “That’s so good. Where did you find this?” I take another bite and then close the container back up. I’m not actually hungry, but it was too tasty not to have another bite.

“Oh, I, uh, made it,” he mumbles, and I nearly choke.

“You made me carrot cake?” I swing out my left arm, my hand landing on his thigh. His eyes bounce from my hand to my face to the road, lingering on the road, then back again to me. I snatch my hand back, sitting on it, lest it get any other funny ideas.

“I did. It’s a Machado favorite, so I make it pretty regularly. It’s no big deal.” He shrugs, merging into traffic with the same composure as Tuesday. I’m thankful not to be the one driving. This would definitely stress me out.

“It’s a big deal,” I whisper, looking out of the window. There’s no way he goes to this kind of effort for all his dates. I mean, there is. I suppose he could be this thoughtful all the time with everyone, and I’m actually not special at all. But I don’t think that’s true. I think he tried to make this special. I think he is trying to make this special because I told him I wanted to experience something exceptional.

Damn it. It’s so bloody nice. If I think about this for too long, about how he bought ingredients and made a whole cake so he could bring me some to have as a snack for our date, I might cry. I don’t want to cry. Crying on a first date is surely the sort of thing people avoid.

Robert would never.

Rafael blessedly interrupts my spiraling thoughts before they can take off. “Hey, red? Whenever you’re done overthinking this, you should look in the backseat. I also packed other things in case you didn’t like carrot cake.” He points to the back with his thumb as I’m still processing the information.

“Oh. Thanks.”

“It’s gonna take about an hour to get to where we’re going. Sorry about that.” He looks over at me and then turns the volume up on the radio, so the car isn’t completely silent. A familiar song is playing. I think it’s the one from the first time I went to his house. “Do you, uh, want to know where we’re going?”

“Yes!” I twist so fast in my seat I nearly give myself whiplash. “I mean, yes, please,” I answer more calmly. I need the distraction from my thoughts and from the traffic, so yes, I need to know where we’re going.

He chuckles, his fingers tapping lightly on the steering wheel to the beat of the song. “We’re going to a bookstore.” His eyes find mine as he says that last word, and he watches intently for my reaction. “A really cool one.” My eyes widen in wonder.

“Seriously?” Looking for something to do with my hands that doesn’t include nearly groping my date again, I reach for my coffee. “This is top-notch book boyfriend stuff, Machado. Damn.”

He laughs again. “I’m glad you think so. You wanted the book boyfriend experience, so let’s go for it, right?” There’s nothing but joy in his tone, and it sends a warm feeling through my veins, despite the ice-cold coffee in my hand.

The book boyfriend experience. Right. I just want the experience. Period. Not the actual boyfriend. Not yet.

I want to be prepared since I’ve never been in a relationship. I want to understand how this all works, how it feels, what it looks like. I want to be ready for this when I go back to London, because I am going back whether I end up with Robert or not. Sure, LA feels good right now, but it’s not my home. This thing with Raf might feel good right now too, but it’s not my forever. It’s not what’s been planned and agreed to.

This is the most I’ve thought about life after LA in quite some time, and I know I need to put a stop to it. Thinking about all of this while spending time with Rafael isn’t going to help in any way. Not if I want to make this research as authentic as possible.

We spend the drive talking about the last two days. Rafael’s been mostly working; I’ve been mostly writing and eating orange cake, which turned out to be absolutely delicious.

When we arrive at our destination, he parallel parks into a tight spot on a road I don’t recognize and hops out of the car. He pays for parking, then opens my door for me.

“So, what’s so special about this place?” I throw my purse over my shoulder, always carrying the bare minimum with me. Glasses, lip balm, extra ADHD meds in case I forget to take them, wallet, phone, pen, fidget toy, tampons, and condoms. Essentials. I’ll never understand how people lug around huge, heavy bags all the time.

“You’ll see,” he answers simply, taking my hand as we cross the busy street, jogging a little, which I don’t mind this time.

When we get to the sidewalk, he drops my hand before moving to walk closest to the street. Fact: I really, really like that. We approach a storefront absolutely covered in plants, and Rafael announces that we’ve arrived.

That’s right. This place has books and plants. There’s a colorful bistro table and chairs set up outside and several full low bookcases next to them. As we walk in, there’s a tunnel of plants with twinkly lights in between them. It’s magical.

Instinctually, I reach for Rafael, taking hold of his arm as we walk through. I let him go as I clap my hands, a little squeal of joy slipping out of me as I take in the space. Further in, the ceiling is covered in moss and there are more plants among the thousands of books. The shelves in the middle of the store are low, so you can see over them, and the space feels airy, unlike typical bookstores. There are plants everywhere, with cute pots lined up on some shelves.

“Should we just head straight to the romance section?” He looks down at me, not moving away from where I’ve gone back to holding onto his bicep.

“Yes, we should,” I say, but we end up just walking around the store, browsing and wandering the aisles before we find the romance books. I notice my latest novel is front and center, which is nice but not something I can have much of a reaction to. Unfortunately, that doesn’t stop Rafael.

“Oh, great, they have the new C.M. Howe. I’ve been meaning to get this.” He reads the back of the book, a small smile playing on his lips. It’s not a new book, just a special edition, so it surprises me to see him pick it up.

I reach for a dark romance about two contract killers who fall in love while looking for the same person. I let myself get lost in the books for a while, enjoying the peace that comes with discovering new stories. I only wonder once if Robert would ever take me to a bookstore for a date. If he would ever read one of my books.

Deep down, I know the answer.