“Holy shit!” My eyes widened, panic setting in.
“What? Is your father right behind me?” Emi glanced over her shoulder.
“No. Worse. My research analysis is due in a few hours, and I’m not done yet,” I said, panic creeping into my mind.
“Uh-oh. That’s not good.”
“It’s bad. It’s really bad,” I answered, picking up my backpack from the empty space beside me. “I’m so sorry, Emi. I gotta run.”
She leaned back in her chair. “I’d come with you, but that’s your cross; you carry it.”
I chuckled, slinging the backpack over my shoulder. “Raincheck?”
“You bet.”
“I love you.” I slid out of the booth and had barely taken about three steps when I stopped in my tracks.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Emi asked.
I turned around, walked back to the table, and grabbed my espresso. “Bye!”
My heels clicked rapidly on the floor as I hurried out of the cafe.
Outside, my eyes squinted by a fraction, adjusting to the sun's brightness. I sipped my drink while rushing down the sidewalk, glancing at my watch every now and then.
In less than ten minutes, I was already at the campus library, climbing up the wide steps at the entrance. I pushed the doors open and stepped into a different world: calm, quiet, and serene.
The scent of aged paper filled the air as I walked down a lonely aisle between two giant bookshelves. A few students sat in silence at different tables, studying under the soft light.
I found my way to the psychology section, hunting for the single book my professor said we must all reference. I sipped my drink, savoring the flavors dancing on my tongue as I scanned the spines until I spotted the book.
The Physics of Emotions: Attachment and Abandonment.
At last.
I reached for the book, but before I could pull it out from the shelf, someone grabbed the spine from behind me. My breath hitched in my throat at the sight of the hand that touched the book. Larger. Masculine. Steady and more claiming.
The rich scent of this man’s cologne invaded my senses in a way that drew my attention to him. My heart stopped for a moment when I faced him, drinking in his physique.
The man was tall, maybe six-foot-plus, lean and fit—like a blade honed rather than a hammer forged. His hair was a dark chestnut, swept back with a precision that mirrored his chiseled face.
This stranger’s icy gray eyes were hooked to mine, sharp and analytical. His angular jaw and high cheekbones accentuated his ruggedness, his blank expression at once intriguing and disturbing.
He was dressed in a dark turtleneck shirt, perfectly tucked into a pair of tailored black pants. His shoes were polished to a shine, and his broad shoulders added a touch of ruggedness to his overall look.
“Um….” I cleared my throat, attempting to keep my voice even. “I need that for my paper.”
He didn’t respond, didn’t take those icy gray eyes off me either.
I couldn’t tell whether he was a library staff member or a professor. But judging by everything superficial about him, he sure didn’t fit into either category. His cologne alone smelled like it was expensive enough to buy this whole building.
“I was here first,” I added, refusing to be intimidated by his stare.
He still didn’t respond.
I felt something between irritation and fear bubbling up inside me, but I wasn’t going to back down now. My grip tightened around the spine of the book, and I yanked it out of his hold.
“This is a library, not a gladiator arena,” I said, holding his gaze as if daring him to make any funny moves.
