Aden had been wrong about one thing. Darren didn’t hate the store. He was actually growing to like it. He didn’t enjoy being trapped indoors for hours on end, dealing with inventory, customers, computers that only worked on occasion, and vendors that did nothing but cause problems. He had never been much of a reader, so being surrounded by books didn’t exactly thrill him to his toes. He wasn’t entirely sure what joy Aden received from the store.
But, on the other hand, it was beginning to feel like home. The smell of old leather made him think of Aden, and the rustle of pages turning, the ding of the bell over the door, and the muted conversations of the customers all blended into the background of Darren’s life. He did enjoy wandering through the stacks after Aden closed up for the night
