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“What does he do?”
“He narrates books!” she said, practically bouncing in her seat because she knew how interesting I would find that.
“Really? That’s an interesting career.”
“He’s got a really deep voice, so I guess that is really in demand, so he… oh, here he is!” she beamed as the door opened.
And there he was.
Tall, lanky, shaggy-haired, brown-eyed, with round glasses and baggy clothes. He had a messenger bag hanging from his shoulder, and the bag part was swinging and whacking hard against his thigh, making me think he had some serious books in there.
“You must be Liam,” I said, giving him a warm smile.
“And you’re the best big sister in the whole world,” he said, smiling at me as Wren went goo-goo-eyed at him.
“Well, top ten maybe,” I said, smiling. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Coffee.”
“Ah…” Wren said, making him look over at her, giving her a sheepish smile that he turned to me.
“She’s right. Decaf.”
“If he has regular this late, he gets heartburn,” Wren told me. “And then he can’t sleep.”
“Then I’m useless in class. It’s a vicious cycle.”
Turning away, I started making his coffee, but something that deep voice of his said had me tensing and then turning.
“Wait a minute,” I said, mouth falling open. “Sir Arthur, the Mad Monk, Mackinnion?” I asked, slapping a hand on the counter.
To that, Wren looked perplexed, but Liam shot me a sheepish smile as a blush crept across his cheeks.
“You’ve heard my work,” he said.
Oh, I’d heard his work, alright.
Now that I recognized it, I knew that voice from half a dozen of the smuttiest romances I’d ever read.
“What is it? What’s got him blushing like that?” Wren asked, smile wicked, wanting to be in on the scoop.
“Oh, little sis. Your charming little studious-looking friend here… he narrates super smutty romance novels,” I told her, watching her eyes light up.
“No way! Which ones? I want to listen!”
“No!” Liam barked, more panicked than angry, and I was so happy to see that Wren didn’t jerk away from the sound.
“Come on! Why not? I want to hear your work.”
“Not that work.”
“Why not?”
“Because I want you to hear…” he started, then let out a strange cough before clearly changing what he was originally going to say. “I want you to hear my more serious work.”
That was not what he was going to say.
What he was going to say was that he wanted her to hear him say those thingsto her.
