Chapter 2
evelyn
“Hi, um, welcome to the library.” Dammit.
He lets out an awkward chuckle. “Thanks. You must be Jocelyn's—" He stops. His eyes move over my face and something shifts. He runs a hand across the back of his neck. "My sister Jocelyn said to come by the library and that you'd be here. So, here we are…"
He trails off and my brain does a quick, frantic sort… Jocelyn. His sister. Works here. Said he'd be stopping by. June doesn't seem surprised. He expected someone to be here. He expected—
Oh God. Does he think I'm the date?
Does he think his sister set this up?
My mouth falls open at the realization. The thought is enough to pull a laugh out of me.
I can’t imagine going on a date. Let alone with someone who looks like him.
I should correct him. I should say I think there's been a mix-up or I just started today, I don't actually know Jocelyn yet.
I should say literally anything that a normal, functioning human woman would say.
“Are you okay?” He asks and there’s a chuckle buried in his tone.
I snap my jaw shut. “Yes. Of course. I’m good, why wouldn’t I be? It’s just… Hi.”
Hi. Brilliant. Spectacular. Four years of undergrad followed by a master's degree I fought to finish, and the entire English language at my disposal. I went with hi.
But he doesn't seem to mind. Something happens at the corner of his mouth. It’s not a smile, not quite, more like the ghost of one. Like smiling is something he used to do and his face is remembering how.
"Hi," he says back.
His voice does something to my chest that I'm going to need a minute to process. It's low and steady and unhurried. This man’s got nowhere to be and nothing to prove. It vibrates through the quiet library like a bass note and settles somewhere behind my sternum.
"I'm James." He shifts the travel mug to his left hand and extends his right. "Holt."
I stand up. Picture books hit the floor. I don't pick them up because I am looking at his hand. It’s like a very large, very calloused, very capable baseball mitt. My body is doing something my brain has definitely not authorized.
I take it and give away any last shred of hope I have for staying in control.
His fingers close around mine instantly. They’re warm and rough. I feel the heat all the way up my arm, across my collarbone, and down the center of my chest. It’s like someone drew a line through me with a lit match. We are still shaking hands and it’s been too long.
"Evelyn," I manage. "Porter."
"Evelyn." He says my name slowly. Like he's tasting it. Like he's going to keep it.
This is a weird amount of hand-shaking, but he doesn’t let go and neither do I. Instead there’s a half-second where his fingers drag against mine. I file it in the growing folder of things I am absolutely not going to think about later tonight in my cabin.
"Jocelyn said you might want to grab coffee," he says. "I know a place." His eyes flick toward the café next door and back. "It's right there."
I almost laugh. “This town is so small that I know a place means twenty feet to the left.”
“You’ve got me there.”
"I just started today," I hear myself say. "I should probably keep shelving. I'm shelving."
“Oh, you work here. She didn’t mention—”
Of course she didn’t mention it. The woman you’re trying to meet up with definitely does not work here. “Yes. I do. I’m at work right now.” Reality settles back around me and I feel strangely let down.
"After?"
The word is simple. One word and there’s no pressure in it.
He's not leaning in, not crowding, not doing any of the things that would make my nervous system light up red. He's just standing there steady and still. He’s taking up all that space without stealing any of mine. And he’s asking if I want coffee.
My brain says no. My brain says you are not here for this. My brain says you left everything so you could be alone and safe and invisible.
"Okay," my mouth says, because apparently my mouth has its own agenda now.
That ghost of a smile appears again. "Okay."
He nods once, like the whole thing is settled. Then James is out the green door bell chiming behind him. He’s gone just as quickly as he appeared. Now I'm standing in the middle of the library holding nothing with my heart hammering so hard I can feel it in my teeth.
It doesn’t take long for June to appear at the end of the aisle. She's got her reading glasses on top of her head and a look on her face that I can only describe as deeply entertained.
"So," she says. "That's James."
"Yep," I say. "That's. Yep."
"Jocelyn's been trying to set him up for weeks."
"Has she? That seems impossible. Who could resist all that charm?”
"He’s the problem, he never shows up."
“Oh. Well, that would make it tough. But, anyway I should…” I bend down and start picking up picture books because I need to not be making eye contact with anyone right now. My face is doing something odd I can’t control and I don’t want to bother trying.
"But he showed up today," June says, and I can hear the smile in her tone.
"I'm shelving," I say to the picture books. "I am doing my job. On my first day. Which is going well."
June laughs as she retreats back to the desk and I exhale when I hear her getting further away.
I press my forehead against the shelf and close my eyes.
I came to Iron Peak to disappear. To be invisible.
To use my degree and work through my anxiety and to rebuild my life one shaky, terrifying step at a time without anyone getting close enough to complicate it.
But I've been here four hours and a man with dark eyes just looked at me like I was the most important thing he'd seen all year. And I said okay to coffee. And my hand is still tingling where he held it.
I am so screwed.