Chapter 28 #2
Handing me a cup from behind the counter, she offers me a smile. “Make sure you tell Atlas ‘good job’ from me.” Looking at the cup, I internally pump my fist because, by the looks of it, she made my favorite iced drink for me anyway.
“I’m not doing that,” I hiss at her with a scowl.
“Oooohhh, so scary, Cora.” She laughs. “Have a good day, Mrs. Ink.”
“What the…” Looking at the side of my cup where a customer’s name would usually go, in black marker are the words Mrs. Ink with a heart. Whipping my head in her direction, I meet her gaze with a smile.
“Toodles!”
Sometimes I wonder why we’re friends, and then on other days, I really wonder. Maybe Mila was onto something about the oxygen. Heading to the library, I realize for the first time I’m counting down the hours till I get to the shop.
Reshelving books has taken up the better part of an hour, but it’s given me time to think about everything.
Mila is right… to a point. Growing up, there were many times when I didn’t know when the next meal would be, so I’ve made sure the house always has some type of food in it.
My bills are paid on time, and every week I put money into savings.
I wish the library gave me a few extra hours or paid a little more, but I’m beyond thankful I have a job I love. Not many people get to say that.
Noah and I take a trip every summer, even if it’s just for a long weekend. I want him to have all of the experiences I dreamed about. He’ll never have to work a double to get the power turned back on, or lock his bedroom door and shove a dresser in front of it to keep someone out.
I deserved better, but still, I came out of it all mostly unscathed.
Not everyone is as fortunate as I was. There are so many kids who get lost in the system and mistreated.
Maybe talking to someone would help, but what’s the point?
I already know I have trust issues because my parents were the first people to let me down, and if they could do it in such an epic fashion, how would anyone succeed?
Lost in my thoughts, I turn around and run into a hard body. Righting myself, I rush out, “Oh, my goodness. I’m so sorry, I was in my own world there for a second.”
“No need to be sorry, Firefly. I didn’t mind having your body on mine.”
My head snaps up, and I find Atlas standing there with a broad grin on his face.
“What are you doing here?” I whisper, pulling him behind me to the non-fiction area.
Patrons rarely come into this section, but just to be certain, I look around and make sure no one sees us behind the tall shelves. Then I repeat my question, “What are you doing here?”
“It’s the public library. I’m part of the public,” he says as if it’s obvious.
“Are you serious?”
“No. I came to see you,” Atlas admits, reaching out his hand for my arm. He tugs me into his hold and leans down to my face. “I missed you.”
Smiling, I pull back a bit. “Atlas, I just saw you last night. It’s been like twelve hours.”
“That’s a long time.”
Shaking my head at him, a thought occurs to me. “Do you even have a library card?”
“Nope.”
“So, you came to the library when you don’t even have a library card?”
“You’re here, so I’m here.”
“Don’t you have clients or something to do at the shop?”
“Nope.”
“You don’t have anything better to do?”
“Nope.”
“Is that the only word you know?”
“Nope.” He moves into my space, crowding my body against the wall. “I also know lace.” He places a kiss on my neck. “Needy.” Kiss. “Please.” Kiss. “Baby.” Kiss. “But my personal favorite.” His knowing gaze pierces me. “Mine.”
Smashing his lips to mine, Atlas steals my breath. As if I needed another reminder of last night, it’s like he’s chosen to toss out the highlight reel and start an encore. Losing myself to his touch, I freeze when his hand leaves my hair and skates down my arm.
Breaking our kiss, he looks at me with confusion. “Baby?”
“I’m at work. Anyone could come around the corner and see us. How would it look if the librarian got caught making out with someone?”
A wide grin stretches across his face, making his normally dark eyes turn a honey color. “It’d be the stuff of fantasies, baby. I know it’s mine. Do you have glasses?”
Shaking my head at him, I move out of his embrace. “Be serious.”
“I wouldn’t joke about that, Cora. Trust me.” I hear the smile in his voice. “What are we doing for dinner tonight?” he asks, catching me off guard.
“What?”
“What do you mean, what? Are you not planning to eat this evening? What do you want for dinner, baby?”
“I work at the shop tonight,” I remind him, walking through the shelves, back toward circulation, where it’s safer and less tempting to touch him.
“And?”
“And… I don’t know. I’ll eat when I get home.”
A scowl crosses his face. “Nope. Not good enough. Tell me what I can bring you.”
Glancing past him, I see what section we’ve made it to. The 600s, perfect. Smiling, I stop, and Atlas almost runs into me. “Okay, fine.” I skim the shelves and pull one off. “Here. We can fix both of our problems.” I hand him a thick book.
“A cookbook?” he questions.
“Yes. You want to make me dinner, and I want you to have a library card. Win-win. Let’s go, mister.”
Smiling, he leans down, kissing my forehead. “I’ll follow you anywhere, missus.”
I ignore the shiver his words cause, and head back to the desk.
I will not get turned on at the library.
Grabbing his ID, I glance at his full name and birthday.
Atlas Isaac Nichols. It fits him. Then I notice his birthday and almost laugh.
Quickly getting him set up with his card, I remind him, “If you lose this, it’s a five-dollar replacement fee for a new one. ”
“Don’t worry, baby. I won’t lose it.” He tucks the card into his wallet.
“Is your birthday really October 31st?”
“Yep. Go ahead and make your jokes, pretty girl. I’ve heard them all.”
“I wasn’t going to make a joke because Noah’s heard them all too.
He looks at me in confusion, then grins. “You mean Noah’s a Halloween baby too?”
“Yep. One of the most ironic jokes of all.”
“What is?”
“That he could be born on a day for monsters, to monsters, and be the sweetest kid.”
A strange look passes over Atlas’ face, and I feel like I’ve said something wrong. I hope he doesn’t think I meant that he was a monster. Before I can explain, a young mother and her son come up to check out books. Switching into work mode, I offer him an apologetic look. “I’ll see you later?”
“Yeah. Later, and with dinner.” He holds up the book for me to see. I quickly scan the books for the mom and hand them back, wishing her a good rest of the day.
I glance at the exit to Atlas’ retreating form. A part of me wants to rush over and apologize. I didn’t mean anything by my comment. As if sensing my gaze, right before he heads down the stairs, he turns to look in my direction. I wave and mouth Sorry.
Shaking his head, he moves his lips, and I freeze. If I didn’t know any better, it looked like he just said, ‘Love you, baby,’ but there’s no way that’s right. Right?
Giving me one last grin, he heads down the stairs and out of view, leaving me to wonder if I’m in over my head or if I care.