“I bet you’re like the smartest person in the whole school, surrounded by all these books every day. Do you just absorb it all?”
I was fairly certain he was teasing. It made my nerves relax a touch and a smile curl my lips.
“I don’t think it works that way, but I do all right.”
He leaned against the box, and his shirt pulled taut. I tried not to swoon.
Then he blurted, “You’re super cute.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but at that moment, I caught sight of books that had somehow scattered across the floor during our conversation. Had I knocked them over when I jumped up earlier? When had that happened? How had I not even noticed?
“Oh shit,” I muttered, looking at the pile of books in horror. “I need to . . . these need to be . . .”
“Hey, don’t worry about it,” he said, immediately dropping to his knees to start gathering them up. “I’ll help.”
I kneeled down beside him, trying to sort the books back into their proper categories as we gathered them into a pile, but he reached for the same book I had just grabbed, and his shoulder brushed against mine.
Oh God, oh God, he’s so warm and solid, and he smells like . . . like soap and something masculine, and I can’t think straight. This is bad. This is very bad. I don’t get flustered like this. I don’t . . . I don’t lose my shit over a freakin’ shoulder!
He didn’t seem to notice—just kept gathering books with the focused determination of someone completing an important mission; but I was frozen in place, hyperaware of his presence, his warmth, the scent of his cologne.
“There!” he said finally, standing up with an armload of books. “All done.”
I scrambled to my feet, my shoulder still tingling from where he’d touched me.
“Thank you,” I managed. “That was very . . . chivalrous.”
He beamed again. “Chivalrous. I like that. Dress me in armor and call me your knight.”
For the hundredth time that morning, I nearly died. I’d never had a knight, much less a man who looked like he just abandoned King Arthur’s table to help me gather wayward tomes.
“Well,” he said, straightening to his full height. “I have a full route to run. It was good seeing you again. I like your little world. It’s quiet and, um, smart.”
A chuckle flew out. I couldn’t help it. It just slipped.
His face crunched up, and for a moment, I thought I might’ve hurt some tender feelings.
“I like seeing you again, too,” I said, tossing my puppy a bone.
He caught it with a brilliant smile and pearly teeth . . . and my heart evaporated.
Chapter 3
Jeremiah
Saturday mornings at Iron Temple Gym were my sanctuary. There were no packages to deliver, no tight schedules, no GPS telling me I’d missed a turn. It was just me, some weights, and blessed silence.
I’d been going there for years. It was one of those old-school places where the owner rarely spent a dime on paint or flooring, leaving the whole place looking like a ruined bomb shelter with bench presses and dumbbells.
Today was leg day.
I loved working out, but God, I hated leg day. What sane person didn’t?
An hour later, I was soaked through, my gray tank top clinging to my shoulders.
I grabbed my water bottle and checked my phone. There were two missed texts from my group chat with Sisi and Mateo.
Sisi: Still on for lunch? Mateo’s already complaining he’s starving.
