Page 54 of Love, Literature, and the Linebacker

“Sharpe finally brought his mystery girl,” someone mutters.

“Library Girl?” another asks.

I don’t turn around. Don’t react. But the nickname stings, especially now that I know Lucy doesn’t care for it.

Most of them probably don’t mean anything by it. That’s the problem. They say things like that without realizing how hurtful they sound to someone who’s spent her whole life being reduced to a single trait.

Lucy reads. She’s quiet. She’s been taught to believe she doesn’t belong here.

Except she does.

She belongs anywhere she chooses to stand.

I check the entrance again. I want to be the first familiar face she finds, before anyone else gets the chance to make her question why she came.

This isn’t about embarrassment.

It’s about control.

And I’ve spent too long watching Meredith use one to gain the other.

The doors swing open, and a wave of women enters. Lucy isn’t with them.

“How do you think Library Girl’s gonna handle all this?” Darnell gestures broadly.

“Lucy,” I correct.

Darnell glances at me, then nods. “Right. Lucy.”

I rake a hand through my hair, feeling ready for trouble before any has started. Between Meredith, Greg’s lingering hostility, and this event, I feel like I’m bracing for impact.

“She’s right there!” Darnell suddenly yelps. “Carla’s here!”

I barely register it.

Because I see Lucy.

She doesn’t rush in.

Lucy pauses just inside the doorway, scanning the room and locating the exits before she finds me. Then, she squares her shoulders and walks forward.

She is wearing a sleek black dress and heels that catch the disco-ball light every time she moves. But the most striking thing about her is that she came at all. Not because anyone pressured her.

Because she decided she could handle it.

It takes guts to walk into a room where no one knows you. Not really. Where the rules aren’t written down, but everyone seems to know them anyway.

Her shoulders ease when she finds me.

I close the distance fast, before doubt can creep in. Before someone else tells her what this night is supposed to mean.

She reaches for me first, catching the front of my jacket. I pull her close and kiss her.

She kisses me back, and some of the tension leaves her shoulders. For a moment, everything else disappears.

“You look incredible,” I murmur against her lips.

Her cheeks flush. “Aunt Joss loaned me the dress. I panicked.”