Page 45 of On the Edge


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“Back in the day they used to charge money to cross the bridge. Hence the name.” He stopped when we reached the mid-point and gently tugged me to one side. He braced a hand on the white metal. “Ever heard of the lover’s locks? People used to put padlocks on the bridge to symbolize their love. In a lot of cities, actually. But governments everywhere have been removing them.”

I vaguely remembered that, but I thought that was only in Italy. “That’s kind of sad.”

Adam was looking down at our clasped hands, and he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even realize—” He released his grip and took a step back, turning away from me.

“Um. So, where to next?” I tried to cut through the awkwardness, to pretend nothing was wrong. I was enjoying our stroll through the city, and I wasn’t ready for it to end.

“Do you like reading?” he asked over his shoulder, walking again. With two long strides, I caught up.

“Of course. Why do you ask?” I smiled at him.

“Come on then.” We stepped off the edge of the bridge, crossed the road, and started past a row of colorful five-story buildings.

He didn’t speak for the next few blocks, and I wondered if he was too afraid after the hand-holding incident.

A couple minutes later we stopped outside a pair of black metal gates, which led to a massive stone arched entryway. Adam opened his arms wide. “Welcome to my beloved Trinity College.” His accent seemed thicker and even more Irish as he spoke.

I hated that I loved the sound of his voice so much.

We passed by two statues and stepped through the gates. I felt as if I were stepping into a whole new world. Massive stone structures with domed roofs surrounded me on both sides, and many of the buildings had Romanesque columns. It was stunning.

As we passed through the courtyard, I looked over at the large blue clock on one of the buildings, surprised at how late it already was.

“You coming, love?”

I blinked a few times as my gaze landed back on him. I hadn’t even realized I’d stopped walking.

“This place is beautiful.” He smiled at me as I quick-stepped to catch up with him.

“I thought you’d appreciate it.”

“This is where you went to school?” My boots slapped loud against the pavement as we moved through the campus.

“Aye. All of my family has gone here. It’s a tradition.”

Oh, how nice. I hurried after him and up the steps that he’d climbed leading to the entrance of a nearby building.

Once inside I spun around and looked . . . well, everywhere. The arched ceilings had beautiful strips of dark wood running across them. The impressive height and design were like a dream. Had I stepped into an 18th-century library?

Slicing straight through the center of the long room were rows of display cases featuring ancient books and pages, and on each side of the aisle were shelves of books and the busts of famous people. The rows of books were roped off. That was too bad—I’d love to run my fingers across the spines.

As I moved down the aisle, trying not to bump into other people, I couldn’t help but smile at the rolling ladders propped against the shelves. “I wish I could climb one of those ladders.” I giggled. “I always wanted to be Belle in Beauty and the Beast.”

Adam smiled. “So why don’t you?”

“No! Are you crazy?”

He looked to the left, and then to the right. “Come on.” He grabbed my hand, and the warmth of his touch had my spine tingling yet again.

“What are we doing?” I chuckled nervously as we sped through the crowd, worried we’d get yelled at by a librarian.

“I know a place. Spent a lot of time here, after all.”

He hurried us down a hall filled with shelves of books and no people in sight. “Duck under.” He held up a green velvet rope that guarded a long wall of books, and I bit my lip, not sure what to do. “You only live once, Anna.” He shook the rope a little, egging me on with his smile.

My heart pounded furiously as I moved beneath the rope and Adam slid under right after. “I knew you had a little naughty in ya,” he teased, placing a hand on the rolling ladder.

“Not even close,” I replied. “And no looking at my ‘arse’ while I climb.”

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