Page 2 of Let it Crackle
His grin only widens. “Still feisty, huh?”
“Still annoying, huh?”
He chuckles, low and easy, and that sound shouldn’t make my stomach flip the way it does.
I don’t care if he looks like every girl’s bad decision fantasy. He’s still the boy who made me feel invisible… until he wanted to humiliate me.
God help me.
“Why are you here?” I repeat.
Maddox leans one shoulder against the circulation desk like he owns the place. “Actually,” he says, dragging the word out like he’s enjoying this way too much, “I’m here on official firehouse business.”
I cross my arms, already suspicious. “Firehouse business?”
He flashes a grin that could melt glass. “Community outreach. Someone at town hall figured the library needed backup since you’re down a staff member, and the budget’s tight.”
Oh crap. I remember Marcia mentioning something about the program before she went on maternity leave. None of us took it too seriously, considering all the budget cuts.
“Oh, great,” I mutter. “So they sent a fireman to alphabetize books and wrangle screaming toddlers. That sure is going to help me.”
He shrugs, and it’s infuriating how casual he looks doing it—biceps flexing under that snug white tee, tattoos peeking from beneath his sleeves, muscles rippling in a cruel reminder that the universe really has a twisted sense of humor.
“They told us someone needed help here.” He tilts his head, voice dropping just a little. “Didn’t expect it to be you.”
I hate how my heart skips.
“And I didn’t expect you, Maddox Cole.” His name tastes like salt on my tongue. “Yet here we are,” I mutter, already feeling the familiar ache start to build behind my eyes.
I inhale deeply, bracing myself. The last thing I need is a migraine—and Maddox is basically a walking trigger.
“Look, I’m sure you signed up for this outreach program thinking you were doing your civic duty, saving the world one library at a time.” I force a tight smile. “But I don’t need saving. And I definitely don’t need your help. So let’s not waste either of our time. You can go. But don’t worry,” I add, with as much fake sweetness as I can muster, “I’ll tell the mayor you showed up. Gold star for effort.”
Then I turn, scoop up the scattered books from the desk, grab my crutches, and hobble toward the stacks without another glance back.
He doesn’t follow.
But I can feel his eyes burning a hole in my back the entire way.
Chapter 2
Maddox
I should leave. Turn around and pretend I never saw her. Pretend this day didn’t just throw a full-blown wrench into my plans. But I don’t.
I stay standing by the desk, still staring at the spot she disappeared to—between the stacks, moving slow, but still sharp around the edges. Maya Gibbons. That name used to do something to me. Hell, it still does.
Back in high school, she was the quiet girl with the soft voice and the big eyes that always looked like they knew more than anyone else in the room. The one who kept to herself, head down, shoulders tight, hiding behind books and that massive cardigan she wore like a shield. She wasn’t loud. She wasn’t flashy. But she was... impossible to ignore.
And yeah—I noticed her. I noticed everything. The way she’d nibble the cap of her pen when she was thinking. The way her cheeks flushed when the teacher called on her. The way she always sat in the second-to-last row, never the back, like she wanted to disappear but not entirely.
I had a crush on her. A massive, full-blown, inconvenient, teenage-boy crush. So naturally, I did what all teenage idiots do when they don’t know how to handle their feelings.
I teased her. Called her Dictionary Girl. Asked if her sweater came with a retirement package. Made cracks about her boots, her glasses, her quiet. It was cruel. I know that now. I wasa dumb fucking teenage boy and I know that it’s no excuse for the way I treated Maya.
Back then, it was camouflage. I had a reputation. I was Maddox Cole—varsity baseball, king of the hallway, too cool to care. My friends would’ve roasted me alive if they knew I had it bad for the quiet girl who always smelled like cinnamon and paperbacks.
So I buried it. And I buried her by being the biggest bully I could be. Because I couldn’t have her I made sure as hell no one else would.
