Even reading, my normal pastime that always drains away hours, fails me. When I read the same page for the third time, I give up.
My brain feels like a dog chasing its tail around the room in circles but it just can’t seem to catch it and it never tires.
Instead, I pull my phone out and open up the long thread of messages with Biannca. I read through them, telling myself I’m just reminding myself of the details that I know I burned into my brain the first time.
Before I know it, it’s time for me to leave. To meet the girl of my dreams and lay it all out for her. To the night that can change my life forever.
***
As I round the corner from the parking lot, I spot Biannca just inside the glass doors and nearly choke on my tongue as my steps falter. She’s utterly stunning. That’s not even a strong enough word.
Even in my tux, there’s no way I can compete with her beauty.
Just like she said, she’s wearing a stunning black sequin dress that dips low in the back, exposing nothing but milky skin. That is, until she turns, her chocolate curls swirling around her and landing just above where her dress sits a few inches above her spectacular ass.
My hand presses to my chest, right where the burn is lit for the beauty waiting for me inside.
And as she turns toward the door, I see the red flower planted behind her ear. She’s wearing lipstick that matches the vibrancy of the flower and it damn near kills me on the spot.
If this does end up absolutely obliterating any sort of friendship or work relationship I have with Biannca, just knowing she’s here, dressed to the nines and drop dead gorgeous waiting formewill be enough. I’ll hold on to this for years to come.
With a deep breath, I climb the few steps to the library entrance, bracing myself for what could be a horrible confrontation.
The library is teeming with people. More than I ever thought it could possibly fit and I wince as I watch people walking around with glasses filled to the brim of what’s surely a variety of beverages. I know the point is to help people love the library, see all it has to offer, fall in love with it and want to continue to support it. But the thought of someone spilling on a book, or worse, several books, has chills skating down my spine.
Pushing through the crowd, I head toward the conference room that has been cleared of the typical long table that seats up to twenty. The permitter of the room is lined with tall round tables with navy tablecloths that are strapped around the legs of the table. Each corner of the room holds a larger table, filled with various types of appetizers. And in front of what’s normally a projector is a bar.
They really went all out for this event.
Biannca is standing on the far side of the room, fingers fidgeting a foot above the table as though she’s deciding which item is the most appealing to try. This is it. The moment of truth. She’ll either accept that it’s me, or be beyond furious that I kept my identity hidden for three weeks while getting to know her via text message.
I can’t tear my eyes from her as she slowly turns around, a small pastry between her thumb and forefinger. Her lips part to take a bite but as her gaze lifts and finds me, holding a single long stem red rose, the pastry falls to the floor and her jaw drops.
My heart falters as I await my fate. Something skitters across her eyes but she’s too far away for me to read the emotion behind it.
But then everything changes. My heart kicks up its pace and hope swells in my chest.
Her mouth lifts at the corners, then further until it’s a dazzling smile showing brilliantly white teeth. It makes my cheeks heat and my lips turn up into a smile that hurts.
We both walk toward the middle of the room, an invisible string pulling taut to bring us closer together.
When we finally meet, she shakes her head, lips parted, seemingly at a loss for words.
“For you.” I tip the rose in her direction.
“Ethan.” My name bleeds through her lips like a Goddamn prayer. Even if this goes sideways, which is still a huge possibility, just hearing my name that way is enough for me.
Taking a chance, I cup her jaw, running my thumb over the apple of her cheek. “You look absolutely gorgeous.”
She leans into my touch as she tips the rose toward her nose. “Did you know? All along, have you known it was me?”
“I—uh…” What am I supposed to say? Yes, admitting the truth is a great first step. But the words won’t come.
A hand splays against my chest and I know she can feel my heart pounding against her palm.
“You should have told me.”
“Fear. Of rejection or, I don’t know. You’re so far out of my league that—”
