The Bookshop Bet

The scent of old pages and fresh coffee filled the tiny bookshop as Claire ran her fingers over the spines of well-worn novels. It was her favorite place in the city—a quiet escape from reality.

And, as of the last six months, it was also the place where she kept running into Ethan Carter.

“You’re staring again,” Ethan’s voice came from behind her, teasing.

Claire scoffed, crossing her arms as she turned to face him. “I was not staring.”

He smirked, leaning against the bookshelf. “You totally were.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re ridiculously full of yourself, you know that?”

“Maybe. Or maybe you just like having an excuse to argue with me.”

That was the problem with Ethan Carter. He was annoyingly charming, ridiculously handsome, and absolutely impossible to ignore. They’d met here months ago, reaching for the same copy of Pride and Prejudice. Since then, they had fallen into an unspoken routine—debating books, exchanging sarcastic remarks, and pretending there wasn’t something more lingering in the air between them.

Ethan glanced at the book in her hand. “Let me guess, another romance novel?”

Claire lifted her chin. “At least I read books with actual emotion. Unlike you and your constant parade of crime thrillers.”

He smirked. “Hey, there’s emotion in crime thrillers. Usually fear. Occasionally revenge.”

She shook her head. “Tragic.”

Ethan studied her for a moment before a playful glint sparked in his eyes. “Tell you what. Let’s make a bet.”

Claire raised a brow. “A bet?”

He nodded. “I’ll read a romance novel of your choosing, and you read a crime thriller of mine. If you like it—even a little—you have to go on a date with me.”

Claire’s breath caught. Did he just say date?

She recovered quickly, arching a brow. “And if I hate it?”

“Then I’ll never make fun of your romance novels again.”

She chewed on her lip, considering. It was dangerous territory. She had spent months pretending she didn’t notice the way Ethan looked at her, the way their conversations lingered just a little too long.

But deep down, she knew she was going to say yes.

“Fine,” she said, trying to sound unaffected. “But don’t think this means I’m going easy on you.”

Ethan grinned. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Claire.”

They each picked a book—she handed him The Rosie Project, and he handed her The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. As they exchanged them, their fingers brushed, a fleeting touch that sent an unexpected thrill up her spine.

“Enjoy,” he said, his voice lower now, softer.

“You too,” she murmured.

As she walked away, she couldn’t help but smile. Because, for the first time, she had a feeling she might actually want to lose this bet.