Chapter 23
The summer solstice ends up being on a weekday, which means I have to work the hours before going to the Reyes’s house. I expected the next few months at the library to be low-key, but there are still students on campus for a summer semester, and when we have less than half the necessary staff, every day is still full. Today though, I don’t mind staying busy. This way I don’t have time to fret about what meeting Sammy’s family will be like.
Unluckily, my last hour on the job has me at the reference desk and Abraham Fellows strolling into the library, planning to take up all my time and then some. It’s fifteen minutes past when I planned to be in the parking lot to meet Sammy, and Fellows is still insisting I brainstorm more search avenues for his exploration into historic river uses.
“How about I finish the search on Monday and send you the sources I find,” I offer through the cheeriest smile I can manage when all I want is to drop-kick him out of my library.
“Why can’t you have them to me by tomorrow?” he asks, brows furrowing.
“Tomorrow is Saturday. I don’t work weekends.” Not officially anyway. I’ve had to come in sometimes to cover circulation desk hours—again because we’re understaffed.
“It won’t take much of your time. You can finish it up tonight,” Fellows says with a confident nod, like he’s my boss, and I’m a slacking subordinate.
“That won’t be possible,” I grit out through my fake smile. “I’m about to leave.”
His frown digs deep trenches into his normally smooth forehead. “You’re ducking out early because it’s Friday?”
How have I not murdered this man, yet? Seriously, I deserve an award.
“It’s six-fifteen. Technically, my day ends at five, but I stayed later because the reference desk needed coverage, and I wanted to be here if students needed help.” Not that I was able to help students with you hovering at my desk for the last forty-five minutes, you arrogant asshole.
Just as he opens his mouth, most likely to make another comment on my work ethic, movement at the doorway catches my eye, and the handsome man I’ve wanted to see all day wanders into the library.
Sammy Reyes is here.
And I missed him.
Our eyes catch, and he grins wide, offering a small wave.
“And look at that,” I say with an easier smile than before. “My ride is here.” I nod toward Sammy, and when Fellows turns to look, I quickly shut down the computer at the reference desk.
He will not claim another minute of my weekend.
The professor turns back to me with a tight smile that’s as genuine as the one I give him each day.
“Your husband?”
Gods, with the amount of time he spends hovering around me, you’d think the man would notice the lack of a ring on my finger.
“No,” I say in response and offer nothing else. He doesn’t deserve anything more, having never tried to get to know me as a person. The guy is too self-involved to think of me as anything more than a means to an end. But there is also the fact that I don’t know exactly what label to use for Sammy, and I bet calling him my “fuck buddy” would be a violation of the morality clause in my contract.
“You ready to go?” Sammy asks as he sidles up to the reference desk.
“I am,” I announce before Fellows can argue that I need to give up my evening to finish his research. And when the professor looks away, I bug out my eyes in a way that I hope conveys my message of please get me out of the hell dimension that is this man’s presence.
“Are you a student here?” Fellows asks, studying Sammy down the slope of his sharp nose.
I bristle at the unspoken implication, that I might be going out with a student.
Sammy wears an easy grin. “Never had the pleasure. I attended a university on the other side of town.”
“Strangers aren’t allowed to wander into campus buildings.” Fellows sneers.
I roll my eyes behind his back, then take great pleasure in correcting him. “Actually, community members are allowed in the library. They can even apply for a library card, since we participate in a consortium with the city’s public libraries. And Samuel Reyes is an upstanding member of the community.”
Delight sparkles in Sammy’s eyes at the description, and I’m thankful for the padding in my bra that hides the tightening of my nipples.
“You know,” Sammy says, “Ava has told me about a few of the faculty here. The most avid supporters of the library.” I’m going to murder him. “Am I right in guessing that you’re Professor Abraham Fellows?”
Yep. He’s definitely dead.
Fellows stands straighter and slides me a glance that has a touch of leer to it. “I am. Not surprised she’s mentioned me.”
And much to my disgust, a rush of magic flushes through me, sickly sweet chocolate rushing down my throat. Because of course the guy is turned on by the idea of me talking about him, unaware that I was lamenting to Sammy about how he’s the bane of my professional existence.
“Always glad to put a face to the name.” Sammy is suddenly at my side, gazing down at me. “My parents are expecting us soon. You want to drive?” He holds up the keys to his beautiful blue mustang, and I decide I can always murder him another day. It’s like the Squid knew that after such a long stretch of being condescended to, I’d need to be in control for a little while.
“You bet I do.” I snatch the keys dangling off his finger, grab my bag from under the reference desk, and arrow toward the exit. “Have a good weekend,” I say to Fellows as I pass.
“I’ll expect your email first thing on Monday,” he calls out after me.
I grind my teeth and suck in a calming breath through my nose.
You don’t have to talk to or think about him for the next couple of days.
If only it were for the rest of my life.
The blue sports car is a siren call in the parking lot, and I give in to the urge to jog to it, overwhelmed with the irrational fear that someone will catch me leaving and drag me back.
And suddenly, I’m not angry anymore.
I’m sad.
When did I start dreading my job like this?
Used to be I was excited for work. I looked forward to arriving early in the morning, brewing myself a cup of tea in the staff room, then settling in my office to map out my day. I’d look at the colorful calendar that identified which classes I’d be visiting and eagerly await the moment I could stroll across campus to meet a new crop of students and demystify information literacy for them. I’d create fun games to go along with my lessons, and I’d pin thank you cards from professors on my corkboard, glancing up at the notes with pride.
But somewhere along the way, academic politics and budget cuts started putting pressure on the library. A pressure that’s largely falling on my shoulders as the only full-time professional librarian.
“Ava.” The sound of my name has me blinking, and I glance over to find Sammy watching me. I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting in the driver’s seat with the engine running, staring out the windshield at the exterior of the library I don’t want to go back to even after a few days of relief.
“Sorry,” I mutter. “Got lost in thought.”
“Here.” He holds my insulated mug out to me. I must have left it on the reference desk, forgetting it in my hurry to leave. “I filled it at the water fountain on the way out. Are you thirsty?” Sammy watches me with such sincerity, concerned once again for my hydration, that something melts inside me.
I lean across the consul and rest my forehead against his shoulder, breathing in his clean rain scent and acknowledging that sitting here next to him has made my crappy day exponentially better.
“We don’t have to go to my parents’ party,” Sammy says, and I feel the gentle press of his kiss on the crown of my head. “We can go back to your place. And I can make us something tasty like Chile Colorado with rice and beans. And I’ll rub your feet. And call a guy I know to make that asshole suspiciously disappear, so you never have to see him again.”
I huff a laugh and my heart squeezes in a totally inappropriate way in response to his offer to fund a hitman to get an aggravating professor out of my life.
“That all sounds amazing,” I admit. “But I still want to go. I think I need a little solstice magic to reinvigorate my spirit.”
Sammy lets out an unhappy grumble in his throat that has me smiling wider. “What’s the use of being rich if I can’t use my money to fix all your problems? I want to make him disappear,” he complains.
I chuckle and straighten in my seat, then lean fully over to press a quick kiss on his pouting mouth. “I’ll consider it.” Then I pick up my mug and take a long draw from the straw.
Sammy’s eyes go hot as he watches me suck the water, and when I feel the rush of power from him, I enjoy the pure shot of energy.
From Sammy, the tingles remind me of a cleansing rain, refreshing and delightful.
Who knew that a playboy would be so good at taking care of me?