He squeezed my shoulder. “Well, I have a library card so you can check-out whatever your heart desires.”
“I plan to fully take advantage of that fact.” I didn’t tell him I’d once had a library card but was afraid of using it for fear of my parents tracking me down. Could you even track people by their library cards? I wasn’t going to take the chance.
“Of course you will, brat.”
We lingered in the library for another hour, investigating all the floors and displays. I ended up checking out a book on famous composers, a Stephen King novel about a clown that Sean had recommended, a LGBTQ-themed book, and Earnest Hemmingway. I’d wanted more, but didn’t feel like lugging a bunch of books around all day seeing as we’d taken the bus instead of his car.
I stuffed my tomes into my backpack, excited about starting them. Reading and music was a way for me to explore the world when I’d been forced to live on an island for the first eighteen years of my life.
We shared a light lunch of chicken wraps in a little cafe facing the lake, the waters along the shore frozen over. Despite the chilly weather, Tuesday afternoon was alive with activity and “Mariage D'Amour” accompanied light chatter with Sean.
“I always liked the city. Some people don’t. It can be crowded and noisy, but quiet nights seem all the more special because of that,” Sean said, his attention on the window. “Funny thing is, I ended up in Chicago by accident.”
“How so?” I inquired.
He took a big gulp of his juice bottle and I wanted to lean in and kiss his neck. He licked his lips and smacked them. “Well, I grew up in Virginia.”
“So that’s the accent I noticed.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, it slips in every now and then. I’m from a little place calledBot-uh-tott, as difficult to say as it is to spell. Beautiful, though. Lots of mountains and trees and that small-town charm. Anyway, when I left home, I had grand plans of settling in New York. Dummy me took a wrong turn on the freeway and it wasn’t until I got to Ohio that I realized I was going in the wrong direction. I just…started driving and wasn’t really paying attention to where I was going because I needed to put distance between the new me and the old me, amirite?”
“Not surprised,” I teased. “All beauty, no brains.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m a regular himbo, but you like it,” he shot back, wagging his brows.
“Your dimwittedness is adorable,” I countered.
“Hm,” he muttered and leaned in. “I don’t see you minding when you’re sucking my face. And don’t try to use the excuse that you’re throwing me a bone, because those littlesounds you make when I’m kissing you tells me everything I need to know.”
Well, damn. I do believe this is the first time I didn’t have a viable plan of counterattack, because I squirmed and looked away. I was way too invested in making out with him. He gloated that I was speechless, and I found that I didn’t mind all that much. I liked the way he kissed me and brought out a side only he got to see.
We finished our lunch and took the bus up State Street, Christmas decorations lingering in windows and on lampposts. Everyone seemed so happy, and I wondered how they could be. The world was a dark, suffocating place to me, a cage and though I’d broken those bonds years ago, there was a chain around my neck, threatening to pull me back in. I’d had a taste of freedom these last few years, but I was afraid I’d lose it. I supposed I was envious.
We got off on Randolph Street and I followed the old architecture of the building up several stories. Nana had told me about shopping here when it had been Carson Pierre Scott. My parents rarely allowed me to come downtown on my own for shopping because it was too full of demonic distractions. Anything I’d needed was fetched by the housekeeper and nanny.
I followed Sean through the revolving doors and was instantly enchanted by the bright lights and gleaming glass display cases of the first floor where perfumes and colognes were housed. Sean headed for the men’s section and peered into a glass case.
“Can I help you, sir?” A well-dressed woman asked.
“Yes, ma’am. Can I get 150ml of Burberry for Men and 3.4oz of Santal 33. I’d also like them individually gift-wrapped, if possible.”
“Certainly. I’ll be just a moment.” She passed him a bright smile, retrieved the colognes, and rushed off.
“You’ve got expensive taste,” I said when she was gone. “Hard to believe you can afford your lavish lifestyle on a bouncer’s salary.”
He smirked, leaning in to look at the display of cologne samples. He sprayed one on the skin of his wrist, rubbed it in then sniffed. “It’s not for me. I have two friends with birthdays coming up. One in February and the other March. Might as well knock them both out while I’m here.”
“I hope they're blowing you for buying them Burberry and Le Labo,” I grumbled with a note of jealousy.
I missed my comfortable and fine clothes, the expensive soaps and all the comforts money afforded. Living in poverty for the last few years taught me to be thankful for what I did have. Even then, I’d found more happiness sleeping in a drafty closet than living in my parent’s immaculate house.
He turned to regard me. “It’s a gift. You know, something given without expecting anything in return?”
“You’re telling me you never had sex with any of your friends?”
“We’re not talking about this right now,” he said, offering the woman a tight smile as she returned with two gift-wrapped boxes. Sean approved them and handed over a credit card.
While we waited for her to ring him up, I said, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to hit a nerve.”
