Page 52 of Breakaway

“It’s a library.”

“We’re so far into the stacks, I doubt anyone but us has been here in the past decade.”

“Still. It’s respectful to the books.”

“Are you one of those people?” I ask, my voice as low as hers. “Never dog-eared a page in your life?”

“That copy of Othello is atrocious.”

“I got it used.”

“Still. I’ve been watching you.”

I grin. “I’m distracting, I know.”

“I really should be studying.” She pouts, crossing her arms over her chest. “I just hate it so much. And I hate that I hate it, which makes it worse.”

The emotion in her voice, that edge of wobbliness, makes me reach over and put my hand on her knee. I swipe my tongue over my lip. I want to kiss her, but I manage to hold off. “I’m sorry.”

She kisses me instead, surprising me with the force of her lips against mine, her delicate fingers working through my hair. We haven’t fucked since a couple days ago on the train, and every second of that was worth the ache in my knees. I become aware all over again of the fact we’re underneath a table, tucked away in a forgotten corner of the library, but just when my dick twitches with interest, she pulls away.

“Thanks,” she says, her voice as soft as a cloud.

“You should take your mind off it,” I say, trying to sound normal instead of the total horndog I’d like to be right now. The way her skirt falls over her thighs is practically criminal. “Tell me about your book.”

She shakes her head, but she’s smiling. “You’ve been waiting for a chance to pull that out.”

“Maybe. But tell me at the table, I’m too big for underneath here.”

She snorts, but clambers back into her chair across from me. It was getting cramped under the table, but what I really needed was some separation. Another minute, and I’d have ruined another pair of her tights.

“It’s a romance novel,” she says.

“I figured.”

She goes all squinty-eyed, like she’s expecting me to laugh. I just raise my eyebrows. “What kind of romance?”

She sighs, undoing her braid and shaking out her hair. “I don’t even know if it’s any good.”

“So? It’s still cool that you’re doing it.”

“Thanks,” she says. “I don’t know, I’m trying my best. There are so many authors I admire, and the thought of making up a story that someone might like just as much...”

“It’s magical.”

She smiles. “Yeah, it is magical.”

“I’m nowhere near that creative, so I’m fucking impressed.” I nudge her boot with my sneaker underneath the table. “What’s it about?”

“It’s a fantasy romance. Basically, this wolf shifter has to get mated in order to take over the pack after his dad dies.”

“And he doesn’t want to?”

“Not really, but he knows it’s important, so he’s trying to find someone when this human woman crosses paths with him. She’s on the run from her abusive ex and she needs a place to stay, so he lets her hide out with him.”

“That sounds cool.”

Flush colors her cheeks. “You don’t have to pretend.”

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