I take the notebook from her and move without thinking, my feet already guiding me toward Sam.
She’s explaining something with her hands, fingers moving as she talks, visualizing it in the air.
The kid across from her nods, eyes shining, shoulders relaxing.
I take another step closer.
“So this part,” she says, tapping the page in front of him, “you’re overthinking it.You’ve got the right way of adding it up.You’re just doubting yourself.”
He squints at the paper, then looks back up at her.“So you’re saying I’m not bad at math.I’m just bad at believing in myself.”
She smiles.“Exactly.”
He grins.“Wow.I came for numbers and got a therapy session.”
She laughs.
It’s warm and unguarded.No edge.Just easy and natural.
Fuck.
The sound hits low in my stomach and spreads quickly.My fingers automatically tighten around the notebook without me realizing it.
She says something I don’t catch.The kid nods again and looks down at the workbook.
I clear my throat.“Careful, Red.Your halo is showing.”
The nickname slips out before I can stop myself.
She glances up, surprise flickering across her face before she masks the reaction.The smile she was wearing disappears, replaced by something guarded.
“I’m helping someone,” she says, calm but pointed.“You should try it sometime.”
The kid’s gaze flicks between the two of us, brows furrowing.
I open my mouth, ready to say something that will make her bristle and restore the space to where it belongs.I’ve got a dozen lines queued up and waiting.Sarcastic.Cutting.The kind that usually hits the mark.
But it catches in my throat because of the way the kid looks at her with gratitude for helping him.
A timer goes off, and Sam shifts, her attention breaking as she reaches for her phone and turns off the alarm.The sound feels loud in the quiet.
“Thanks, Sam,” the kid says, sincere as hell.“I think I actually get it now.”He packs up his books, shoves them into his bag, and slings it over his shoulder.“Seriously, thanks.”He gives her a quick wave and heads out.
The library settles again.
The quiet rushes back in to fill the space he leaves behind.And I’m still standing there, way too close.Holding my stupid notebook in my hands like an excuse to stay, giving me a reason to be in her space when I don’t know what the hell to do now that I am.
She turns back to her table and starts stacking her things.Neat.Methodical.
Tension fills the space between us now.The kind that hums softly and refuses to shut the fuck up no matter how hard I try to ignore it.
I should say something.Anything.
Crack a joke.
Say something sharp.Walk away like I’m supposed to.
Every option exists right in front of me, and I choose none of them.
