All it takes is a few seconds, and I’m completely immersed in the plot again.
Birds chirp as I sink my feet deeper in the grass. I turn page after page until I’m done with the book.
Wait. I’m done?! How didn’t I realize this sooner? I was already more than halfway through and now it’s done. Well, I need book two. Like right now!
Standing up, I shoot Sharon a sweet smile as I make my way inside. I feel a little bad for her, she stands while I sit all day, but the last time I asked her to take a seat, she refused and mumbled how it would do her harm to sit on duty.
What did I expect? I mean it was literally difficult to force a name out of the girl.
Once I ascend the stairs and am close to the brown oak doors of his office, my heart starts racing in my chest. I want to ask him for…permissionto visit the library, but I have a feeling it won’t go over well.
Releasing a breath, I knock once and enter when I hear a gruff “ Come in.”
Tattooed arms peeking beneath a simple black singlet are the first things that greet my vision. I again feel that strange warm sensation in my belly as I take in the fit of his singlet on his wide shoulders and lean, chiseled chest.
There’s a glass of wine on his desk and a burnt out cigar in the ashtray before him.
He’s hunched behind his desk, a laptop in front of him and a tall pile of paper arranged on a corner of the desk as he signs a single piece. Then he takes another piece of paper from the pile, signs and slides it to the other corner, repeating the cycle.
His muscles flex with each movement. I quickly unplug my eyes from his body.
“Didn’t I tell you it’s rude to stare?” His voice suddenly interrupts me, deep and groggy, like an early morning voice.
A certain shiver pricks my spine as I recall the first time he used those words.
Not now, Bella.
“I—”
“What?”
Then I come back to my senses. Does he always have to interrupt me?
“Well, I was just saying it. Thank you for interrupting.” I clear my throat and manage to sound bold despite my raging thoughts.
His lips flatten in a thin, unamused line, then he drops his pen and hits a single finger against his desk. The sound comes out sharp against the silence, nervousness suddenly creeping in when he narrows a darkened gaze on me.
How this man makes me feel so many things all at once should be studied in itself.
“Umm…I…uh—”
“I’m busy. Get to the point,” he grinds out, jaw locking tight.
I frown. “I want to go to the library for—”
“No,” he replies bluntly.
Frustration bubbles in my chest as I resist the urge to scream. I swear if he cuts me off one more fucking time.
“For books,” I continue anyway, my voice much firmer as I take a few steps toward his position.
He cocks a brow that makes my step falter, but doesn’t say anything. When I’m tired of the uncomfortable silence, I release a sigh.
“Look, I-I really need this okay,” I breathe, holding his empty gaze. “Please just let me go and I’ll be back in a few hours.” My voice wavers.
It’s not just about the series anymore. That book was the last one I had and I need to keep reading to avoid treading the thin line between insanity and depression.
The way he scans me with a devouring gaze sends an unwelcome heat down my core.
