Page 36 of My Book Boyfriend
“Is it working?” I grin at him.
His jaw clenches. “I can’t save the community garden.”
“I’m not going to withdraw the lawsuit,” I say.
The music switches to a slow song.
He holds out his hand for mine. “Well, as long as we’re both clear …”
I put my hand in his, and my heart buzzes. “All clear. For tonight, anyway.”
We walk to the dance floor, and he pulls me into his arms. We’re so close. He smells of warm pine spice. He sweeps me around the room as I grasp his shoulder. He feels comforting. And he manages to stay on the side of the room where Aiden is not.
“I had fun at the book club.” He holds my glance.
I smile. “I’m not sure the others have recovered yet from our sparring.”
“I’m not sure I’ve recovered yet,” he says. “I’m still wounded you thought I was so nefarious.”
“You accused me of knowing which plants I could use to poison you,” I say.
He chuckles and tightens his grip, pulling me closer. He rests his cheek against mine. I stop breathing for a moment. “Can we have our own book club? What book should I read next?” His breath whispers against my ear, sending shivers down my body.
“A Devilish Dare. I bought it for you.”
He laughs, and that sound reverberates throughout my whole body. I’m melting. He’s holding me so tightly and he smells so good, like pines and male and red wine and chocolate.
“I look forward to discussingA Devilish Darewith you,” he says.
For one night. I can pretend for one night this is real and has a future.
Wouldn’t that be something?
I might as well salvage my pride so that if Aiden does come looking for me, I look like I’m having a good time.
Bella said I should try to make Aiden jealous and see if that inspires any reaction.
But I hate playing games.
Even if this is an even bigger game.
Rupert trying to beguile me to drop the lawsuit.
Wait until we start picketing his business.
The music switches to a pop song. He releases me, but it feels reluctant. “Shall we go check out the Treasures exhibit?”
“Yes,” I say.
We enter the exhibit, where glass cases filled with books, clothes, and other key markers of literature and art reside. Strains of music from the hall murmur in the background, mixed with the hum of conversation. There’s a line in front of the case with Winnie-the-Pooh and his friends.
“What made you want to become a librarian?” he asks as we stand in front of Thomas Jefferson’s Declaration of Independence.
“I get paid to read and talk about books all day. What job could be better? I thought about going into publishing, but I like all the library programming. It’s one of my favorite parts of the job. I feel like I’m having an impact and making a contribution to society.”
He nods. “That’s what I like about my job too.”
“I wanted to be a librarian, even when I was a little kid. I organized my books into my own library, and for my tenth birthday, my mom gave me one of those date stampers.” I peer closely at the case in front of us. It has a copy of Nelle Larson’s bookPassing. I read the text on the card underneath. “I didn’t realize she was a librarian too. Wow. Have you readPassing?”
