Sawyer
This is too perfect.
A librarian.
Not only is Zelda a gorgeous woman with the kind of face you could look at all day and all night and into forever, she’s a librarian. There’s no possible way she has any kind of wild side if her chosen profession is literally to shelve books.
There is no possible way I can keep seeing her. People who can handle what I do—what I am—aren’t going to be found working in the public library.
Or worse, a school library.
There’s no possible way that I can keep seeing her, but I’m going to.
I know it already, even while I try to tell myself that this is a disaster waiting to happen.
People like Zelda aren’t okay with people like me, not once they know the truth.
And the longer this keeps going, the more she’ll want to know about why I’m in town.
How am I going to tell her?
About my dad.
About how I hurt people.
About how I like it.
I don’t talk about that shit. Not with my aunt, not with anyone I’ve met in the city in the five years I’ve been there. Nobody. The only person who even has an inkling about it is Domino, because he wouldn’t hire me until he knew what the hell sent me running to the city in the first place.
I come down from laughing over her comment, and even though my mind is telling me that this is a train wreck happening in real-time, something in my chest has given way.
“What kind of librarian?” It doesn’t matter. It really doesn’t. But I ask the question anyway.
“The sexy kind, obviously.” Her eyes are still on mine, shining, and there’s a hopeful curve to her mouth. Two jokes in less than a minute. This girl is after my heart.
“You’re not wrong about that.”
Her green eyes get brighter, and she presses her lips together. Then she shrugs, one shoulder moving up and down a quarter of an inch. “I work out.”
“Me, too. We should work out together sometime.”
She turns her head to the side. “I don’t think you go to my gym. I would have noticed you there.”
“Yeah? Why?”
“Well, you’re obviously a sexy—” She narrows her eyes, considering. “A sexy…fireman?”
Oh, so we’re going to play this game. “Nope.”
“A sexy…paramedic.”
“Nope.” Not even close. I’m the opposite of a paramedic. Paramedics are sometimes called in to help undo the damage I’ve done, and my heart sinks when I realize that eventually, if this continues, I’m going to have to tell Zelda about it. There’s no way around it.
Why am I suddenly so ashamed?
I push that feeling down into the pit of my gut and focus on her. She screws up her lips, thinking. “A sexy fitness trainer?”
“If I tell you, do you promise not to tell anyone else?”
My heart pounds in my chest. I don’t know why I said that.
I’m setting myself up for a lie, and I don’t think I can tell it to her.
Right until this moment, I thought I could lie to her, but with her huge green eyes locked on mine, with her innocent face, I don’t think I can do it.
I don’t think I can be that reckless. Not with her.
She pretends to lock her lips and throw away the key. “I won’t tell. Unless you’re a hit man.”
It falls a little too close to home, and I feel myself backpedaling in my head. Lie. Lie to her, and get yourself out of this.
“I’m not a hit man.” I try to say it with a laugh, but it comes off as insincere. If I’m not going to lie about it, I’m going to have to do something else. “What do sexy librarians do in their spare time?”
She blinks once, then twice, but then the corner of her mouth curves up in a smile. “I see.”
“See what?”
“You’re embarrassed about your job.”
“Maybe.”
“Give me a hint.”
It comes to me, the perfect way out of this. “I work in security.”
She shakes her head, wrinkling her forehead. “That’s not embarrassing.”
“It’s not for the best…company.”
“Which company?”
“I probably shouldn’t say. But one of the side perks is that I have to stay in shape.”
Her eyes travel down over my body again, and a flame lights in her green eyes. “That is a perk.”
Maybe she’s not as innocent as I thought.
My cock goes hard against the fabric of my jeans at the hungry look in her eyes. “I take it you like what you see.”
She doesn't hesitate. Not this time. “Yeah. I like it.”
I take in a deep breath, trying to get myself under control. I cannot leap across the table and haul her up onto its surface and fuck her right in this bar, no matter how much I want to.
“Tell me more,” I say, and color floods her cheeks. There’s something she’s not telling me, but I bet it’s not that she’s a heavy for a local drug dealer. “About yourself.”
The waitress steps up to the table and slides plastic baskets in front of each of us, burgers piled on top of mountains of fries, and the moment breaks apart. Zelda leans back in her seat to make room for the waitress’s elbows, and then thanks her for the food.
“You’re welcome,” the waitress says with a smile. “Is there anything else I can get you two?”
“This looks great,” Zelda answers, and the woman is gone again.
But the moment is over.
I let out the breath I had started holding the moment the food arrived.
I want to go right back to this conversation, see where it leads, see if she wants to come home with me.
Not even that. I want to take her out of here and start walking.
See where we end up. All that matters is that we end up somewhere together.
But Zelda picks up a fry and puts it into her mouth, then closes her eyes. “These are really good.” Then she smiles at me with a glint in her eyes. “I’m glad I ran into you.”
“I’m glad I ran into you, too.”
My nerves settle. This might be heading for certain disaster, but right now, we’re only getting started.
There’s still plenty of time to figure this all out.