Lizzie
Chapter Four
Ican’t help but stare, even if it makes me look obsessed with him. In fairness, I kind of am.
Holden has been here at the library every shift I’ve worked for the last two weeks.
He stays until closing and waits for me to lock up, then watches until I’m safely in my car.
I’m sure he’d walk me there and be the kind of guy to hold the door open, but I don’t allow him the chance.
So, he stays by the bike rack and watches me like a hawk.
Each evening, he continues his unique studying method. A handful of students have come to the circulation desk and reported his behavior, so I’ve already explained several times that it’s how he studies. Once they know that, most ignore him and resume their work.
My watch vibrates on my wrist, alerting me that it’s ten minutes until the library closes. Other than me and Holden, there are only three other students present. I make my rounds and remind them all that it’s closing time. I approach him last.
“Psst! Time to pack up,” I say. I know I’ve pulled him out of his zone when he stops walking and gives me a thumbs up.
“Wow, already? That went fast tonight. Let me pack up, and I’ll meet you at the door. Okay?”
“Oh. Thanks, but you don’t have to wait tonight. I’ve got a bunch of books to re-shelve before I leave.”
I don’t tell him that the reason I didn’t finish my work is because I’ve been distracted, creepily watching him.
“All right. Let’s get the books, and I’ll carry them while you shelve.”
“No, I can’t ask you to do—” I shake my head at him.
“You’re not asking; I’m offering. I want to.”
My cheeks heat, and I’m sure they’re turning at least pink, but probably bright red.
Because I’m apparently incapable of playing it cool, I blurt out, “Why?”
His brow furrows, and he cocks his head, then busts out another one of those killer smiles. Every time I see that smile of his, a warm sensation runs through me, and my heart rate picks up a bit. Tonight’s no different. I swear my knees actually weaken.
“Why am I offering? Or why do I want to?” There’s a teasing air to his voice.
“Um, both, I guess.”
“Well, I’m offering because I want to, and I want to because I like you. So, meet you at your desk?”
At a loss for words, I stare at him. He likes me. Why does that make my lower belly flip-flop? I’m twenty-two years old, for God’s sake. I’ll be graduating from college in less than a year. I shouldn’t get giddy because a boy says he likes me.
“Lizette?”
Shoot. I got lost in my thoughts again. I do that a lot when he’s around.
“Uh, sure. That will work. I’ll meet you at the desk in a few.”
Five minutes later, I’ve got the library door locked and the main lights dimmed so no one mistakes it for being open. When I finish, Holden is waiting at the circulation desk for me, as promised.
“Okay, boss. I’m at your service.”
Over the next forty-five minutes, we make easy conversation as we stroll through the stacks and shelve the books. The time flies, and we spend most of it talking about school.
When I ask him what he’s majoring in, the reason for all the time he puts in here makes more sense.
“Civil engineering. Then I’ll go on and get my master’s in structural engineering. This semester, calculus has been killing me. Or it was before I spent so much time in the library.”
I glance over at him, and he winks at me.
I grab a book from him, turn, and head to the area where it belongs.
“How about you? What are you studying?”
“Business management and a minor in English literature.”
I wait for the comments I’m sure are heading my way. Landon never passes up an opportunity to tell me I’m choosing a “wasted” degree. He doesn’t know all of my plans, though, which is how I want to keep it.
“Cool. What are you hoping to do with that after you graduate?” Holden asks.
I peer over at him and search his face, but see no insincerity there. Still, I fix my gaze on his eyes for several long seconds, looking for even the slightest hint that he’s being sarcastic. I find none.
“I’m hoping to open my own business one day. What I’m learning will hopefully come in handy.”
His gaze fixes on me, and he genuinely looks interested in what I’m saying. Huh.
“Tell me more about it.”
Tension suddenly fills me. Any time I’ve talked about my potential business goals—which is pretty much just with my dad—I’ve come out of the discussion feeling stupid and confused about my future.
I glance over at the circulation desk, then gesture toward it.
“That was the last book. I’ve got to pack my things, and then I’m ready to lock up.”
The next thing I know, Holden sits on the floor between shelves of books and rests his back against a stack. He peers up at me with those darn eyes.
“Five minutes. Sit and talk with me for five minutes. Seven at most. I want to know more about you, other than that you’re the beautiful girl who works in the library.”
He called me beautiful. In my old jeans and ratty hoodie, my hair tossed into a rushed ponytail, and with no makeup, he called me beautiful.
And now he wants to sit and talk.
I shouldn’t. It’s late. I can’t afford to like him too much. He can’t fit into my world right now.
Yet those eyes.
And he’s got the hint of a tentative smile that makes him look like he’s afraid I’ll say no, but he’s putting himself out there anyway.
So, the next thing I know, I’m on the ground opposite him.
His smile broadens, and his eyes brighten.
I pull the corner of my lower lip between my teeth.
I’m nervous now, but I also do it when I’m thinking, and pretty much with any powerful emotion.
It reminds me what a bad habit it is when the sore spot I’ve created inside my mouth hurts.
I release my lip and work on appearing chill.
“What do you want to know? I’m an open book.”
A few beats of laughter escape me at my use of the book pun.
He rolls his eyes at me but chuckles.
Then we both go quiet.
His face turns serious, and he holds my gaze.
“Everything. I want to know everything about you, Lizette.”