The bell above the bookstore door chimed like it hadn't been touched in years.
Zoey stepped in, her fingers curling tighter around the strap of her tote bag. The air inside was warmer than the street outside, thick with the scent of paper, old wood, and something herbal, like the incense the old woman at the counter was lighting absentmindedly.
She hadn't meant to stop here. It was a detour, an accident. Her roommate, Callie, had texted about a party later, but Zoey had ghosted the thread after three unread messages. Instead, she wandered aimlessly after class, letting her boots carry her somewhere quiet. Somewhere with spines and stories and silence.
She padded between narrow aisles, letting her fingers skim the rough edges of covers, until a title caught her eye.
City of Dusk.
She paused. It was the book. The one she'd been looking for, half-hyped on the internet, half-recommended by her creative writing professor. A mix of poetry and surrealist short fiction, dark and quiet and utterly her.
She reached out.
And another hand touched the cover at the same time.
"Ah—sorry," a voice said, pulling back half an inch.
She turned her head. He was taller than her by a lot, dressed in a dark hoodie and jeans, a silver ring on his thumb, eyes somewhere between hazel and brown and shadowed by thick lashes. Messy hair. Kind of tired-looking. And, annoyingly, handsome in that distracted, unintentional way.
Zoey blinked. "No, you go ahead."
He glanced from the book to her, then shook his head. "No, it's fine. You saw it first."
"Pretty sure we both did."
He hesitated. "You here for it too?"
"Well, yeah." She tilted her head, smirking a little. "Unless you were just admiring the cover design."
"Guilty." His mouth quirked up. "I'm actually looking for it for a lit theory project. My professor's obsessed with it."
Zoey raised an eyebrow. "Columbia?"
"Yeah."
She nodded. "NYU."
"Ah," he said. "Rival schools."
"That supposed to scare me?"
He chuckled, then reached for the book again, this time lifting it gently into his hand. He turned it over, reading the blurb like he hadn't already read it ten times online. Zoey crossed her arms loosely, watching.
"I can ask if they have another copy," he offered.
"Be my guest."
He walked off toward the front, the book still in his hand.
Zoey leaned against the shelf, read the back of the book, and from where she was standing, she could hear.
The old woman behind the counter shook her head after checking the inventory. "Only one copy left. Sold out everywhere else too. They haven't printed another run yet."
He gave a small, frustrated laugh. "Of course."
Zoey stepped forward. "You can have it."
He turned to her, brow furrowed. "What?"
"You need it for a project. I just wanted to read it."
He smiled, a genuine one, "You sure?"
Zoey nodded. "Completely."
He looked down at the book in his hands, then back at her. "I'll finish it fast. Maybe I can drop it off after I'm done."
She raised an eyebrow. "Oh, don't mind me. I'll find it somewhere though..."
"What about I lend it to you after I finish reading?" he offered.
"That would be awesome!"
"Luca," he then offered a hand.
She shook it. "Zoey."
"Nice to meet you, Zoey."
"Same, Luca-who-hogs-books."
He laughed, really laughed.
She stepped back, giving him space at the counter. He bought the book with cash, thanked the clerk, and then turned to her again.
"I'm serious. Let me know if you want it after. I can give it to you before the next print run drops."
She studied him. "You always offer to lend rare books to total strangers?"
He shrugged. "Only the ones who let me have them."
She found herself smiling before she could stop it.
Luca scribbled something on the receipt and handed it to her. "My number."
Zoey took it. "You just carry pens around like that?"
"Writer habit," he said, backing toward the door. "Thanks again, Zoey."
And then he was gone.
The bell chimed again as the door shut behind him.
Zoey looked down at the receipt in her hand. Neat handwriting, slanted slightly right.
She slipped it into her bag and walked back out into the gray afternoon, the corners of her mouth still lifted just slightly.