Excerpt from The Nine Lives of Rose Napolitano by Donna Freitas, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

I find myself wanting to reach for them, to pull them away from his face, touch his smooth, olive skin. I don't want him to be embarrassed.

His hands fall back to his knees. He bobbles a little. "I was such a nerd. So there I was, grass plastered all over my jeans, tired, sweaty, and suddenly I looked up and saw my parents reading on the porch. And I could see something on their faces—something I had to capture. I stopped, lifted my camera, and snapped a single photograph." He smiles.

"That photograph?"

He stands again. He's so tall. "Yup. It was the picture that made me want to become a photographer. When I saw it, I just knew. My mother had it framed, so I could always remember who I am and what I want to do, even when times get hard. It's not easy starting out in this business." He pats the camera that's next to him on the floor with affection, and he shrugs again.

My head tilts, studying him. "Thank you for telling me that story."

He nods. "Thank you for asking about that photograph." He taps his foot. "Now it's your turn."

"My turn?"

"Tell me what the deal is. I told you a story, so now you have to tell me one, about why you're really here."

"Um, yes, well?"

"Um, okay. Fine."

He crosses the room and retrieves a chair, parks it next to mine, and sits. Leans forward. "I've got plenty of time. You're my only appointment." I breathe deeply. "Before I tell you, I have one more question." "Sure, go ahead."

My cheeks grow hot. I stand up, unzip my graduation robe before sitting back down. This thing is melting me. "It's embarrassing."

His eyebrows arch.

"I forgot your name, and since we are telling each other life stories, I figure we should probably be on a first‑name basis. I know it's not Larry. But is it—Lou, maybe?"

He smiles again, laughs again—he has such a nice laugh, low, but rich, like he enjoys laughing, like he is easy to laugh. "Well, Rose Napolitano, my only appointment of the day, I agree that we should know each other's names, and since I already know yours, you should also know mine." He sticks out his hand and I take it.

I feel it across my skin, everywhere, a rush. "My name is Luke."

Excerpted from The Nine Lives of Rose Napolitano by Donna Freitas. Copyright © 2021 by Donna Freitas. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.