Anytime, babe.
You’re gonna have to hear him out eventually.
I know.
How’s it been with him since…everything?
Weird?
Totally not weird at the same time?
Like he’s just back to the him he always was before he went all psycho, like nothing ever happened, except everything did happen. And I catch him staring at me, like, a lot. That never used to happen. It’s unsettling.
I know he was a raging monster dick for a hot minute there. Tentacles and all. But I think he’s had some realizations. He seems different.
You’ve been talking to him?
Maybe. You should try it.
Or maybe just fuck him and see if that helps clear anything up?
I roll my eyes, even though she can’t see it, and pray that my physical response to that text isn’t visible to Aaron, watching me from across the library. The warm flutter in my lower belly says I don’t hate her suggestion at all. My brain tells my heart to feel otherwise.
TWENTY-NINE
AARON
It was almost two full weeks into Operation Get Gemma Back, with regular updates going to both my producer and my director—my mother, and Alex, respectively—when she finally started speaking to me, more than a grunt or two at my reactions or predictions for whatever book I was mid.
“I know we need to talk. I know you have things you need to say. But so do I. And I need to say mine first. Soon. Before you throw whatever you’re going to at me and I forget every reason I have to be mad at you.” That’s what she said. That’s the first thing she willingly said to me after all this time. I could’ve wrapped her up in my arms and spun her around the room, I was so fucking happy to hear those words from her.
Instead, I tried to play it cool. Pretend my stomach wasn’t leaping into my throat, that I wasn’t halfway to jizzing my pants at the progress. “That’s fair. I’m here, Gem. I’m not going anywhere. Whenever you’re ready to talk, or to listen, you let me know.”
She nodded once at me, almost solemn, but I could see this glint in her eyes, this fuckingsparklethat’s all her, hiding right there behind the surface, where she’s been trying so hard to keep it locked away from me. And that’s fair, I mean it. She deservesto hold on to her anger at me. I have so much to make up for with her. So much trust I need to win back,earnonce again.
It’s fucked that I took twelve years of trust, of being her everything, and I ruined it in just a couple of tantrums. I still don’t know quite how I fucked everything up so spectacularly in such a short time, relatively speaking, but I fucking did. And now I’m here to eat crow for it, forever, if that’s how long it takes.
But, I can’t lie, I’m having a pretty damn great time. The library is chill as fuck. These books she’s having me read arewild, man. Who knew the quiet ones could be so kinky. This shit is a blast. A few have been…particularly eye-opening, and that’s all I’ll say just in case you report back to Gem that I was hating on her precious book boyfriends.
But nah, it’s been great. Watching her in this environment, she seems to be in her element. Having a good time, helping customers out, keeping the place running smoothly, whatever the fuck she does behind that desk, or running around here, half the day, I don’t know. But she looks damn good doing it. Never had a librarian kink before, but if I ever win her over, I hope we get to explore it.
That first Saturday I spent here, ball cap down low, kinda shrunk down in my seat, hoping the influx of people there on the weekend didn’t pay me much notice, it was fascinating. She led this kind of book club thing with all these women, most of them a fair bit older than her. It was a biweekly romance readers' book club, apparently. I definitely eavesdropped, and I know Gem was a little embarrassed about it, but too bad. I’m definitely gonna join in on the next one, now that I’ve read almost ten books these past two weeks.
There’s this guy that volunteers here a lot, Ken, man that dude has some insane stories, he’s been a damn hoot. Doesn’t have a clue who I am, or just doesn’t give a fuck, and I’ve had a blast shooting the shit with him. I’ve taken to sitting in on hisweekly sci-fi and fantasy book club meetings just to hear him talk more.
I haven’t learned to use the Dewey Decimal System yet, but can you blame me? It’s the closest I’m able to get to Gem, her leading me through the aisles, me following close behind, my eyes trailing how hot she looks in absolutely anything she’s wearing. That little ass of hers has definitely become one of my favorite images in my spank bank. TMI? Sorry. Anyway, it’s just encouragement to read faster, so I get to follow her again that much sooner.
I’m outraged when I get through the fantasy series she’s had me on this week, only to find the next series on my list isn't stocked by the library system.
“What the heck, Jellybean?” Maybe it doesn’t sound as mad as I feel when it comes out. But it’s bullshit! This is a library! It’s supposed to have books!
She tries not to laugh at me. “Those are self-published. An indie author. They’re almost never in libraries, or even bookstores for that matter.”
“Well how are people supposed to find and read them then!?” I sound indignant. I know I do. You want a book, you go to the bookstore, or else the library. It makes no sense.
“E-readers? Kindle app? You can buy them online, on Amazon, or the author’s site? Support them directly?” She says it like it’s obvious. Like there’s so many ways to do it. I still think it’s bullshit.
So I go through the rest of her list at once, sacrificing several days’ worth of my favorite walk of the day to get her to pull all the books they have in stock for me, so I can mark which ones aren’t here.
