Sadie starts tittering. “Oh myGod. Do people still use phones that old? I mean, did you steal that from a museum?”
I roll my eyes. As exciting as it was to watch Aspen put Sadie in her place, it’s time for Sadie and her friends to fuck off. “I used the same model until last year,” I say, approaching the counter. I smile at Aspen. “Hey.”
“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” she says, her eyes sweeping me up and down.
“Maybe, but I don’t have a nurse to keep me there.”
Aspen sighs like she’s exasperated, but her cheeks turn pink.
Sadie tries to latch on to me, stretching her hands out. I let her take my arm earlier because I was stuck on that tiny-ass infirmary bed, but I’m not letting her touch me now, especially not in front of Aspen. I recoil like she’s been rolling around in a pigsty since the polo match.
She looks at me. “What’s wrong?”
“Your voice. It’s giving me a concussion. I warned you about it.”
“My—”
“Why don’t you just either make the recording or take pictures of the pages you need? Oh, and you were being way too loud. Thisisa library.”
Just then, the librarian comes strolling over. “Hello, Sadie. Is there a problem here?”
Took the old man long enough. I turn to Aspen. “Now you’re free.”
She clears her throat. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”
“No. I’m great. Wanna grab some dinner?”
She looks skeptical, but glances at the clock behind her. “I have another hour.”
“No problem.” That pistachio ice cream turned out to be good for something because without it, I’d be dying from low blood sugar. “I’ll just go read some Shakespeare,” I say, deciding that that sounds more impressive than Black Monday.
She frowns. “It’s going to be late. Almost nine by the time we get to eat.”
“I love late dinners.”
“Grant Lasker. The man with an answer for everything.”
“What can I say? I’m a smart guy.” I give her my most charming smile.
“Fine. But you don’t have to force yourself to read Shakespeare. Wouldn’t want you to break anything.”
I put a hand over my chest. “Thou woundeth me, fair lady.”
Aspen snorts. “There are some comic books in the contemporary culture section over there. I’ll see you in an hour.”
Chapter Eleven
Aspen
I keep an eye on Grant while I organize the returned books and help a freshman find a volume on modern Russian history. Clemson Library can be overwhelming, and its stack system isn’t the most intuitive.
So far, Grant seems to be okay, sitting in an armchair in my line of sight. He didn’t look like he was in pain when he more or less told Sadie and her friends to go away. On the other hand, testosterone makes men do stupid things—like pretend they aren’t hurt when they really are.
Why is he here instead of waiting at his place?He isn’t reading comic books like I suggested. He’s scrolling on his phone. His mouth is curved into a small smile that makes my heart want to do a cartwheel, and he’s running a finger along his lower lip. It reminds me of how his mouth felt.
Thinking about the kiss makes my lips tingle. It’s the craziest thing because that’s never happened before. Just because I’m a virgin doesn’t mean I haven’t kissed guys. But the act had been sort of weird and awkward. A wet, slippery lump of flesh—a tongue—gliding over my mouth, and the experience left me unmoved. I couldn’t understand why girls in high school swooned over some guy’s kiss. I didn’t get it last year either, when Sadie said her boyfriend—the one who stared at my ass one too many times—kissed like a dream.
Until Grant.
