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Down a hall, through a locked door that only I and housekeeping have a key too, I enter my tiny office. It’s filled with things I love and acts as a home away from home.
Once I’ve collapsed into my office chair, I realize Cole has indeed taken my words as an invitation.
Sort of.
He doesn’t step into my space. His lean body lounges against the door frame, his icy gaze sweeping over my little satellite home.
My hands find a throw pillow, and I clutch it to my chest. The mass of it calms me as if it is an impenetrable armored breastplate that will keep me safe from the world.
Any moment now, he’ll say something. Any second, he’ll throw out a comment, and I’ll have to focus and come up with an answer. Any moment I’ll be expected to function.
Any moment…
Doesn’t come.
Cole stays quiet at his post outside my door. He looks everywhere but at me, his lovely blue eyes tracing over my framed book covers before sliding down to the knickknacks covering my desk. He spends so long examining things that are mine, but not me, that my pulse is able to find a steady flow, and my heart can return to its nondescript beating.
Any moment becomes the moment I choose.
“I used you to escape an uncomfortable situation. I’m sorry.”
He shrugs, eyes still not meeting mine. “Use me any time.”
Don’t say things like that, my reasonable brain whispers even as my lady parts conjure all the ways a man can be used.
“I’m keeping you from your meeting.” The clock on the wall lets us know he has only a few minutes to join the other writers.
Coles nods but doesn’t move to leave. Instead, his stare finally meets mine.
For some reason, his normally cold gaze found a way to radiate heat.
“I wanted to ask you something.”
The statement scorches over my already sensitive nerves.
Please don’t ask me for something I can’t give you, I beg silently.Can’t I just be a librarian?
His long fingers reach up to fiddle with a stud in his ear lobe, and he thankfully breaks eye contact with me.
“Can you help me with some research?”
I try to figure out if there’s some secondary meaning to his question.
None that I can detect.
“Yes! That is my job.”
A smirk tugs at his lips. “Exactly.”
“What are you researching?” This I can handle. This is what I got my degree for.
“Genetic mutations. The structuring of DNA. Advances in prosthetic technology.”
I chew on my lower lip, thinking. “That’s some technical stuff. I could find the basics online. We’ll probably have to order you some texts through interlibrary loan, but for the really good sources…” I trail off, considering the offer I’m about to make.
“Yes?” he prompts me, and I find myself staring at Cole’s feet. They have yet to cross my threshold. Something about that restraint makes me feel safe. Well, safe enough to go slightly above my normal librarian duties.
“How would you feel about meeting up with me outside of the library?”
