Page 4 of When We Were Young

“Yeah, um, I’m sorry. How about your leg? You rubbed your hip when you stood.”

“It’s fine.” He grins at me, and it’s one of those grins that warns of trouble but promises fun. “Just hurt my pride.”

I kneel and pick up the book he landed on top of, biting my lip to hold back a laugh. I glance up at him, holding the book where he can see it.

“Is it that you fell, or because you face-planted onto this magnificent man chest?”

He squats next to me and takes the book from my hand.

“Hmm, I wondered what the photographers were going to do with all those photos they took of me. Glad to know they’re using them in academia.”

Now there’s no stopping my laughter.

He peeks in my direction and smiles.

Holy hell, this guy has a killer smile.

He shrugs and picks up a few more books, then rises and starts arranging them on the display.

I’m about to tell him not to worry about putting them back when a corner of his mouth pulls up. He steps back, places an index finger over his lips, then rearranges a few.

Amused, I gather a couple more and hand them to him.

After he spends another few seconds positioning them, I move to adjust one, and he playfully taps the top of my hand in reprimand.

“Oh, you have a system, do you?” I tease.

“Uh, most definitely. You’ve got to put the hottest cover right”—he points to the cover he landed on top of—”here.”

I smirk at him, cross my arms, and shake my head. “Okay. Sure.”

A throaty laugh escapes him. “It’s true. Your vision naturally focuses just left of center. Hence, my cover belongs there. That’s how you hook ’em and make them curious enough to do exactly what you want.”

“Yeah? And what’s it you want them to do?”

“Well, if I were a bookstore owner, I’d want them to buy my book. Or at least look at the others and maybe buy one of those. But since this is a library, I’d⁠—”

An alarm blaring from his phone interrupts us, and he pulls it from his pocket. His eyes bulge as he fumbles to turn it off.

“Shoot! That’s my bedtime alarm. It’s ten p.m.” He glances at me. “I’ve made you late closing for the night, haven’t I?”

I’m surprised to find I forgot all about the time and that my practically nonexistent energy level from half an hour ago has fully recharged. I’m unsure why, but I feel my cheeks heat, and I’m betting I’ve turned red.

His gaze drifts to just below my eyes, so he must notice. A sweet half-smile forms on his lips, and he lifts his eyes back to meet mine.

“It’s okay. But I should close up now, and we need to get you in bed.” I instantly realize what I said. “I mean, not in bed in bed, and not we. But you. You need to go to bed. So, uh, why don’t you pack your things, and I’ll get mine and meet you at the door. Yeah, okay. That’ll work.”

My words come out rapid-fire and, flustered by my verbal clumsiness, I don’t give him a chance to respond. Instead, I spin and speed-walk to the circulation desk.

His deep laugh follows behind me, but it isn’t mocking. It’s charming, as if this were one of the romance novels he so thoughtfully restaged on the display, and I hadn’t sped away. If it were, he would have smiled and cupped my face in his hands. He, of course, would find me adorable, and he would place a thumb over my lips to silence me. Then he’d gaze into my eyes and lower his lips to⁠—

“Jesus, stop it. You’re behaving like a raving lunatic,” I mutter to myself.

A minute or two later, we meet at the front door of the library.

I stretch to get as good a view of the outside surroundings as I can. I feel his eyes on me as I search to make sure Landon isn’t lurking out there somewhere. I pretend it’s nothing, and, satisfied he’s not there, step outside.

He waits with me while I lock up, then he stops at the bike rack near the entrance. When he offers to walk me to my car, I decline.