I never thought a bookstore could feel like a prison, but here I am, stuck in one, waiting for my girlfriend to pick a book. A book. Just one. And yet, it’s been—what? Twenty minutes? Thirty? I check my watch. Eleven. It’s been eleven minutes. Feels like an eternity.

I sigh dramatically, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. “Babe, just pick one,” I say, leaning against the nearest shelf. She doesn’t even look at me.

“I need to find the right one.”

“Isn’t that the whole point? You won’t know it’s the right one until you read it.”

She turns her head slightly, giving me a look that makes it very clear I’m not helping. I grin. “What about this one?” I grab a random book from the shelf and hold it out. She barely glances at it before shaking her head.

“Lando, if you’re going to be annoying, go to the other side of the store.”

I gasp, hand over my heart. “Are you… banishing me?”

“Yes.”

I scoff but obey, dragging my feet dramatically as I walk away. For a moment, I do actually try to entertain myself—flipping through a photography book, picking up a biography I know I won’t read—but my attention span is about as long as a pit stop, so within a few minutes, I’m making my way back to her.

She’s standing by a shelf, reading the back of a book, completely lost in whatever the synopsis says. I smirk. She didn’t even notice me coming back.

Without thinking twice, I step behind her and wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her into me. She startles for a second before relaxing, her body melting into mine like it was meant to be there.

“Lando,” she sighs, but there’s no real frustration in her voice. I rest my chin on her shoulder.

“Just pick one, love,” I murmur, squeezing her gently.