On the bright side, I didn’t know losing your mind would be so pleasant and whimsical.
Ezra studies me for a moment, then continues his stroll toward the back of the shop.
The deep, calming breath filling my lungs hitches when I realize the frolicking shadow animals on the wall are moving, twisting and crawling as they follow in Ezra’s path.
I think I need to make an eye appointment.
Maybe get a CAT scan.
Possibly a lobotomy.
When we reach our destination, Ezra says, “We keep the new and used books up front. Most of the customers who come through here want something to keep them entertained while hiking. That’s how the physical shop makes most of its money. My passion, however, is rare and antique books. And although we don’t sell many here in Lorewood, we do sell quite a few at a fair price through Thane’s online store. Of course, there are some I don’t put up for sale, but I keep those locked up at home.”
His voice trails off while his eyes burn holes through my body.
He’s waiting for some type of reaction or response. Unfortunately, Mr. Aster will not get what he wants.
Can brains have orgasms? Because the moment I spot the various first editions and antique books that line the windowed shelves, my mind goes blissfully blank.
Most are bound in deep red, green, or brown leather, with some of them stamped in gold foil that catches the light.
My fingers twitch against my leg while I daydream of leafing through these treasures.
“Do you like them, Aurora? I can only assume by your gaping mouth that you find them as beautiful as I do. I didn’t think women like you could appreciate books like these. You’re a surprising little thing.”
Ezra weighs every word that comes out of his mouth. They sound rude, and they are, but there’s an undercurrent of appreciation that’s oddly endearing. So, I’ll let it slide this time.
“Ezra, these books are beautiful! I can’t imagine where they all came from, who owned them before you … what these books must have seen.”
At the edge of my vision, the bookshelves waver, shadows twisting into shapes that feel too sharp, too alive.
My pulse jumps, but when I turn back, Ezra’s watching me with unsettling calm.
Nope. Not dealing with that right now.
I throw myself into the nearest shelf, letting the books distract me, murmuring happily as I flit between titles, pretending I’m not still rattled.
Ezra stands back, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he watches me explore.
He must enjoy showing these off because his body is no longer rigid and there’s a warmth emanating from him that makes me want to snuggle into the crook of his arm. Thankfully, the books keep my hormones from taking control.
His collection here at the shop is already impressive, but I’d kill to know what’s tucked away in his house.
Ezra drifts closer and settles at my side. Once again, the heat from his body calls to mine, and I struggle to keep my eyes on the shelf ahead of me.
“Would you … like to take one out?” Ezra asks, almost hopefully.
He’s obviously showing off, but how often do I get to interact with antique books?
“Really? You’d let me look through one?” I ask, turning to face him.
The same shadows from earlier slink along the walls, only now they don’t just flicker and twist. They curl around Ezra’s face, weaving through the sharp angles of his jaw and cheekbones, claiming the space as their own.
How can someone be so stupidly perfect?
Ezra notices my pause and chuckles. “Yes, of course. You’re a guest in my shop, and if you wish to see a book, I’m bound to fulfill that request.”
He twirls the keys around those long, elegant fingers—the same fingers I imagined slipping between my legs after brushing my hair back.
