More.
Oh my Gods, I picked the worst nickname in the world.
He’s only saying my name, but I want him to be giving me direction. I want him to tell me what he wants from me. Because I’ll give it to him. I’ll give him more. I’ll give him all of me if he just keeps talking and keeps being sweet and keeps being the kindest goddamn mythic that I have ever met in my life.
This was a mistake.
To know what longing and lust and attraction feels like was a mistake.
I’ve become jumpy. For such a big man, he’s pretty quiet when he moves. And it seems like every time I walk around a bookshelf—boom—there he is. Beautiful bomb right in my face.
And then he smiles at me.
And then he says my name.
And then I die again.
My only solution to this unplanned attraction is to work harder. Is to work so hard that I forget the world around me. It used to be an easy thing to do. I would lose track of time until Ame set down a coffee beside my book; I would only come out ofmy focused mindset long enough to take a few sips, and then I’d get right back to it. That’s what I need. I need to forget that the world exists.
I need to forget that Bo’s sexy Southern voice exists.
That’s why I hired him, isn’t it? So I don’t have to focus on all the minutia of running a library. That I only need to be called in when someone has a more in-depth research question. And until that happens, I can focus on my own research. Which is interesting. Which should fully distract me.
I just came across a new chapter in a book, talking about a subject that I’m interested in—god objects. This chapter could explain to me what exactly is up with that golden apple that I have tucked away in a deposit box at Wolf Trust Bank.
But am I poring over every single word in this new chapter?
No, I’m not. I’m staring at the doorway, waiting for Bo to walk through it and ask me a question. Waiting for him to walk through that doorway and sayMor.
“Mor?”
A shiver travels down my spine and back up into my skull, melting my brain.
“Yes, Bo?”
The monster blinks slowly as he stares at me, as if he briefly forgot whatever question he planned to ask when he entered this room. But then he clears his throat and makes words with his beautiful voice.
“I was just wondering , after we close the library, would you mind if I took a swim off the dock?”
“Of course not. Our dock is your dock.”
Oh no. Oh Gods, no. He is going to be wet. He is going to be in only a bathing suit.
I have found a way to die. A new way to die.
“Thank you. But I was wondering if it would be an issue if I swam in my other form.” He shifts his feet and ducks his head, asif bracing for a blow. “It’s supposed to be a cloudy night, so I’m hoping that it might be all right.”
I push my attraction to the back of my mind long enough to really study the man. The monster.
He’s used to being judged for his other form.
He thinks I’ll deny him the right to be himself.
I step forward on instinct, scooping up one of Bo’s webbed hands. Then I don’t know what to do with his hand other than give it a firm, reassuring squeeze.
“It is always all right, Bo. You are always all right. Better than all right. You are …” Oh gods, where am I going with this?
His sky-blue eyes are staring at me now, and he has those damn sexy glasses on again, and I’ve never felt so flustered in my life.
