Page 11 of Love, Literature, and the Linebacker

The pause gives him away before he answers. “Took you long enough.”

“Tom Sawyer,” I add dryly. “You strike me as a Tom Sawyer guy.”

“That’s actually one of my favorites.”

“Of course it is.”

He leans back slightly, watching me with unsettling focus.

My eyebrows lift.

“Wuthering Heights is your comfort read,” he says.

“Absolutely not.”

“Too much emotional destruction?”

“Too many people making terrible decisions on the moors.”

“You like Pride and Prejudice,” he continues, “but you love one of Austen’s other books more. Emma or…” He studies me, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “Persuasion.”

“You seem very confident.”

“No.” He snaps his fingers lightly. “Wait. Lady Susan.”

“I’ve never read Lady Susan.” The admission escapes before I can reconsider it.

His eyebrows raise. “Really?”

“I haven’t gotten around to it.”

“You would like it,” he says with complete confidence.

“So I’ve been told,” I mutter, folding my arms.

He watches me for a second longer than necessary.

“What’s wrong, Library Girl?”

“I told you,” I say, exhaling sharply. “I’m meeting someone. I would appreciate it if you weren’t here when he arrives.”

“You got a hot date or something?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s none of your business.”

He lifts both hands in surrender. “Okay. Okay.”

I press my palms to the table, trying to steady myself. “I’m not great at this. First meetings. First impressions. I didn’t even want to come, but I promised someone I would. And you being here is only making it harder.”

I almost canceled on Kate today. The thought of saying the wrong thing to her son—or confirming every awkward assumption anyone has ever had of me—nearly kept me at home.

And for a split second, I wonder if he’s the type of person I could be friends with. If he wasn’t so irritating.

“Who did you promise?” he asks quietly.

“Someone you don’t know.”

“Why aren’t you great at first impressions?”