My teeth find my lower lip, and suddenly my shoes are the most fascinating thing in the room.
Maybe I should give him the benefit of the doubt.
I wasn’t exactly running from him earlier, even if that’s a shitty excuse. It’s not like he’s going to touch me like that again, which makes every cell in my body cry out in protest.
Christ, body, I know it’s been a few years, but calm your slutty self down.
“So, let’s start again, shall we?”
Ezra’s grin is all teeth. Smug bastard.
“Would you like to ask me about my reading habits? Maybe what kind of literature I enjoy? Or … should we just cut to the chase?”
Ezra’s voice settles in my chest like the thrill of standing on a ridgeline as a storm crawls through the mountains.
His head tilts, just slightly, eyes heavy-lidded with something unreadable. He lets the pause stretch. So long. So intimate. I feel like I might crawl out of my fucking skin.
Finally, he speaks. “I was referring to the tour, of course.”
Oh my god, I am going to die.
Right here. In this bookshop.
Cause of death: Ezra Fucking Aster.
“I apologize, Mr. Aster. You’re right. I shouldn’t have assumed your reading habits. If someone said something like that to me, I’d probably lose my shit.”
Ezra watches me, the corner of his mouth twitching with a decision he’s clearly already made. Then slowly, he lifts one brow. “You’re forgiven.”
I exhale, sidestep his stupidly tall body, and lock onto the mess of books beside his chair, needing something else to look at.
“I hope that means I still get a tour.”
The stack of books Ezra pulled from earlier is a hodgepodge of fiction: classic literature, horror, science fiction, romance, thriller.
I’m impressed.
Every man I know scoffs at the thought of reading romance novels, but Ezra seems interested in all literature, which causes my traitorous body to flush.
“Is this your to-be-read pile? It’s really … eclectic …”
“Yes, I find it’s important to read all genres. It helps one understand human nature, human relationships, that sort of thing. And to be clear,” Ezra grumbles, his voice low and huskyas he takes another step toward me, “I findUlyssesto be dull, insignificant, and severely overrated.”
Another smirk plays on the corners of his lips, and I just stand there like a moron, wondering what his mouth tastes like.
My brain is static. There is no grip to get. There’s only him.
Finally, Ezra steps back, giving me room to breathe and get my goddamn body under control.
Behind him, the shadows deepen. Maybe it’s the way he’s standing. Or it could be nothing at all.
“And please, call me Ezra. Mr. Aster seems so formal, and it sounds like you’ll be here regularly to consult with Thane. So, let’s skip the formalities, Aurora. Is that agreeable?” he asks while moving toward me again, extending his hand with practiced formality.
I look away, pretending to consider his peace offering, before I grasp his extended hand. “Yes, Ezra. That’s agreeable. Now, about that tour. Your shop is really lovely.”
Did he flinch when I said his name?
No … I doubt anything shakes this man.
