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Laughing, I drop my bags behind the counter, then head back towards the exit. “All right, thank you.”
“No problem. Bye, Cam!” she says as I walk through the door and into the softly falling snow outside.
Hasn’t stopped talking about me, huh?
The snow is really starting to come down. I hurry across the street and jog once I hit the sidewalk, closing the distance to the library in no time at all.
The door opens with ease, and then it’s grabbed by the wind and flung open. Pulling it shut behind me, I throw my hood off of my head.
Now, where would my Little Dove be in here?
A little old lady sits at the desk up front, so I think that might be a good start.
“Well, hello there. How can I help you?” she asks as she adjusts her glasses.
Cradling the croissant in my arm like a prized possession, I say, “I’m looking for a girl who is about this tall”—I raise my hand to my chest—“and has long light-pink hair. Do you think you could help me with that?”
A light bulb goes off behind her eyes as well as a streak of protectiveness. “Uh, yes. And you are?”
“I’m Cam. I stopped by her shop, but she had already left. Chloe sent me over here with this.” I hold up the bag.
She narrows her eyes, but nonetheless tells me what I want to know with a smile as she points behind her. “She is in the Romance section to your right, dear. You’d better be on good behavior, do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I tell her as I begin to wander toward the section she pointed out.
For as small as this building seems from the outside, it feels huge. Bookcases and bookcases fill the room. I pass at least ten before I see light-pink hair through the gap between rows of books.
As quietly as I can, I creep into the row behind the shelf she is leaning against. I don’t want to spook her too bad, but I want to see what she’s reading and get an idea of what she likes.
I carefully crouch and look over her shoulder through the bookcase between us. She isn’t reading at all. She is on her phone, stalking my Instagram. More precisely, she is zooming in on an action shot from our last game that I posted.
This feels like the perfect moment to announce myself. “If you want ice-side seats, all you have to do is ask, baby.”
“Ahh!” she shrieks, and the look of fear in her eyes as she turns around and meets my gaze stabs me in my heart.
Without a second of delay, I race around the bookcase and kneel in front of her, spinning my cap around so there is nothing obstructing my view of her every micro movement. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you like that. Are you okay? I’m sorry.”
Her chest is rising and falling with such ferocity. I set the bag down and take her hands in mine, rubbing the backs of her hands with my thumbs.
“I’m sorry. Surprising you like this went much smoother in my head.”
She bursts into laughter and squeezes my hands. “Oh my God, please don’t do that again. I might have an actual heart attack next time. What are you doing here?”
What am I doing here? She doesn’t remember drunk-inviting me? Maybe I’ll keep that little secret to myself.
“I wanted to see you,” I tell her with the utmost sincerity.
“You flew here just to see me?” she whispers.
Nodding, I pull her to her feet and gaze down at the short, pink-haired goddess who has me wrapped so tight around her finger and she doesn’t even know it.
Releasing her hands, I bend down and grab her phone, which is still open to my photo, and the bag with the snack in it and hand them to her.
Her cheeks flash red as she remembers I saw her social-stalking me. “Thank you.” She opens the bag and looks up at me quizzically. “Ah, that makes a lot of sense now. Chloe told you where to find me.”
“She did. She also sent that along. So, what do you have planned for tonight?” I ask her.
I take in every beautiful little feature of her face, the ones that FaceTime can’t show me. The small freckles across her cheeks and nose. The small scars on her jaw. The lines by her eyes from years of smiling. Although, I think those smile lines should be more defined. Everywhere I look is as perfect as the last.
