"We're doing mouse crafts! You have to make one!"
And somehow I end up at a tiny table, knees crammed underneath, cutting out construction paper mice while the chaos continues around me.
Miss Glitterbomb saunters over while I'm struggling with safety scissors that are definitely not designed for hands my size.
"So you're Knox."
I look up. She's even more impressive up close—flawless makeup, sparkling earrings, an outfit that probably took hours to assemble. Her eyes are sharp and assessing.
"How did you—"
"Honey." She perches on the edge of the tiny table, somehow making it look elegant. "Toby came in this morning wearing a turtleneck in July and walking like he'd been thoroughly ravished. Then you show up with four of your friends, looking at him like you want to eat him alive." She extends one perfectly manicured hand. "I'm David when I'm not in drag. I run the youth theater program."
I shake her hand carefully. Her grip is stronger than I expected.
"Hurt him and I'll destroy you," she says, voice still sweet and pleasant, smile still firmly in place. "I know people who know people who have pigs. They're surprisingly efficient at disposing of bodies."
"Noted."
"Wonderful!" Her smile brightens, any trace of threat vanishing like it was never there. "Try another ice cream sandwich. Robin really outdid himself."
She swans off to help with crafts, leaving me slightly unsettled. That's the second person who's threatened me overToby—first Robin, now David. He's clearly well-protected. Well-loved.
Good. He deserves people who'll fight for him.
Toby appears at my elbow, still flushed, fidgeting with the hem of his turtleneck.
"Sorry about Lily. She has opinions."
"Smart kid."
"Knox—"
"Tonight," I cut him off. I don't want to have this conversation here, surrounded by children and parents and Miss Glitterbomb's watchful eyes. "After your shift."
"I close tonight. Won't be done until eight."
"I'll pick you up."
"You don't have to—"
I turn to look at him fully. He's so close I could count his freckles. Could lean down and kiss him right here, pull down that stupid turtleneck and show everyone what's underneath.
His pupils dilate. I can hear his heart skip.
"I'll pick you up," I repeat.
"Okay." It comes out breathy. Wanting.
Jason appears with another ice cream sandwich, oblivious or maybe just deliberately interrupting. "These are amazing! Can we come every week?"
"No," I say.
"Yes," Toby says at the same time.
We look at each other. Toby bites his lip—that soft bottom lip I had between my teeth last night—and I want to bite it again. Want to drag him into the stacks and finish what we started.
"Mr. Knox!" Lily's back, tugging on my shirt. "Look at my mouse!"
