Page 14 of Icing on the Cake

That strange jolt hits me again, stronger this time, like my body is rebelling against my brain’s attempt to stay calm.

Why do I care so much about what this twerp thinks? He’s nothing more than some cranky librarian. I’ve faced worse than him on the ice.

But those melty chocolate eyes…ugh.

I run a hand through my hair, exasperated more with myself than with him. “Dude, please? I’ll owe you one.”

His eyes snap open at that, and he sits up straight. “You’lloweme?”

“Yeah. Whatever you want.”

He tilts his head to one side like a curious bird as he considers my offer. “Interesting.”

I wait, holding my breath. This has to work. It’s my last shot.

“Alright. I’ll check the lost and found.”

Relief washes over me, but it’s quickly tempered by suspicion. This was too easy.

“But…” He holds up a finger, and for some reason, I’m mesmerized by how thin and long it is. “Iget to decidewhenandhowyou repay the favor.”

This sounds dangerously like a deal with the devil, but what choice do I have? “Fine. Deal.”

He stands and motions for me to wait as he disappears into an office nearby.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out to see a new message from Oliver lighting up the screen.

Oliver

Any luck at the library?

Me

The dude’s checking for me now.

Oliver

Fingers crossed, man!

Me

Eyes and toes, too!

The librarian returns, clearing his throat to get my attention, and I pocket my phone. “Sorry, man. I checked the lost and found and only saw a couple of wallets, a school ID, and some headphones.”

Fiddlesticks.“I appreciate you checking. If it does turn up, would you?—”

“I have an idea.”

The interruption comes from another woman walking up to the desk. But this one acts as if she owns the place.

When she peers up at me and smiles, I get the strongest urge to shout, “Awooga!” and then cross my eyes and strum my lips likeBugs Bunny. But that would make me come off as a complete tool, so I don’t.

This woman, whoever she is because she’s not wearing a name tag—and come to think of it, neither is he—is beautiful. Her hair is a dark brown that stops at her shoulders. Her skin is milky white, and her lips are as red as mine, which is very.

“You were here yesterday, right?” she asks.

“Yes! I checked out?—”

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