Page 46 of Falling With a Spin

I walk up to the steps of the campus library and pull open the large wooden doors, and the smell of old and new books hits me all at once. A smile breaks out on my face. It's something that I can’t describe, but all book lovers know exactly what I mean; it happens every time.

Today is our last session before I retake the quiz, and we chose to meet up at the library. After today, I’m giving myself a two-day break to prepare. Okay, maybe I will do a little bit of studying. The whole point is to let my brain relax. If I’m going to be honest, the only thing that has been keeping me occupied is what will happen to Hunter and me after this.

Walking over to a table near the window, I pull out a chair and look out the window to see that snow begins to coat the grass and that the trees are losing leaves as we head into winter. The first fall of snow is my absolute favorite time of the year.

There is something innocent and beautiful about the snow when it first falls. How can you do anything in the snow, and the next day, it just disappears, just for you to do it all over again. Sometimes, I wonder what it would be like if life were like that. To have a clean slate anytime when things go wrong or you’re hurt.

I turn away from the windows and check the time on my phone; it shows nine a.m. We agreed to meet at ten a.m., but I couldn’t stop myself from getting here early, roaming the bookshelves and feeling the books on my fingers as I imagined the stories they held.

There is one specific book that pulls me towards it every time. Gently grabbing it from the shelf, I walk back towards the table. My fingers gently trace the cover of The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald before opening the worn pages to begin yet another reread. I get through the first couple of pages of chapter one before I feel hands on my shoulders.

“Oh, you are reading a classic? I thought you didn’t read those.” I can hear the smirk in his voice. He knows I like romcoms and spicy books that make you blush when you read them in public. Hunter's hands brush down my arms as he moves away and walks around the table to sit across from me. He caught me reading during work one time, and the cover was, of course, cute and cartoony, but what was inside was anything but that.

He’s in his usual get-up this morning–a black sweatshirt that has an old band logo on it and dark-washed jeans. He reaches for the bottom of his sweatshirt and pulls it over his head, showing a peak of his toned stomach. I quickly avert my gaze and rummage through my bag to find my notes or really anything so I don’t see any more of him.

“What should we start with?” I ask, hoping my voice comes out even. Running my sweaty hands down the black tights that I put on this morning, along with a sweatshirt that says Crestview across it. Pulling off the hair tie that I keep around my wrist, I throw my hair in a messy bun. Feeling really warm all of a sudden, I take off the extra layer I put on this morning. I feel the T-shirt under my hoodie start to rise, and I begin to panic slightly. The sound of the chair moving stops me from continuing, and seconds later, Hunter's hands are on my waist, holding my shirt in place. It sends a jolt of shivers down my body, and I hope he doesn't notice the goosebumps that have scattered my skin.

“Sorry, I thought you might have wanted some help.” He pulls back once I’ve got the sweatshirt over my head. I stuff it in my bag and push back some of the hair that fell from my bun.

“Thank you,” I take his hand in mine, holding it longer than I should have. His thumb rubs over mine, and his dimples make a small appearance.

“All I have is a practice test for you since your test is in two days. Is that okay?” He pulls his hand away and gets up, going back to where he sat before.

“Yeah, that's fine,” I tell him, and I pick up my pencil.

Did I make him uncomfortable?

“Alright, here is what I came up with,” He slides the stapled packet across the table. “There are similar questions to the test that you took and what we have gone over.” He finishes, his eyes not meeting mine.

“Okay, sounds great,” I say. Opening the packet, I begin on the first problem.

After about an hour, I slump back against the chair and set down my pencil. Handing Hunter the packet for him to review, I pull The Great Gatsby back to me. There is something about this book that has always captured my attention: the storyline is beautifully written, and the format is structured like nothing else.

I read a couple more pages before Hunter places the packet back in front of me; putting the book down, I take a look at the test and just stare at it. Shock rolls through me when I see that there are only two answers I got wrong. There was a total of 40 questions, and I only missed two. I glance up at him, and he is wearing the biggest smile on his face, pride shown through his eyes. I jump from my seat and come around the table, wrapping my arms around his neck, whispering thank you over and over again in his ear. His arms snake around my waist as he just holds me there. I wouldn’t have been able to do this without Hunter. He took his time with me by showing me how to solve each problem, taking my time, not rushing, and being patient with myself so I’m able to understand the problem fully.

Embarrassment quickly fills me, and I pull back from the hug. Hunter's arms are still around my waist, and bright blue eyes that cause too many butterflies to erupt inside me stare into mine. I want him to kiss me. To grab my face and take my breath away, to push me up against this table, and to give me a book-worthy kiss that I have read about.

Clearing my throat, I step out of his arms and run my hand through my hair. I turn to gather up my belongings, but my eyes widen when he pulls me towards him. His arm wraps around my waist, pulling me against his chest, and his hand cups this side of my cheek. My breathing becomes heavy, and I run the tip of my tongue over my dry lips. His eyes darken as they follow my movements.

I go to say something, but his lips crash into mine, and the butterflies in my stomach burst. It takes me a few seconds to kiss him back, wrapping my arms around his neck. His tongue runs across my bottom lip, asking for entrance. It’s fast, captivating, and hungry, as if we’ve been starving ourselves. There’s no slowness or patience to the kiss as our tongues tie together. There’s this need for more of him, and with everything that has happened, I really can’t explain where this is coming from. But one thing I do know is that I don’t want it to stop. Let it consume me. Light a fire in me to chase the darkness away.

A groan ripples through him when he pulls me closer, and the hand holding my cheek travels up to my hair. He tilts my head back, deepening the kiss, and I grip his shirt, trying to close the distance between us.

When he pulls back, my eyes flutter open, and he gives one last kiss to my very swollen lips. He takes his hand out of my hair and brushes down the mess he made of it. Looking at me, he runs his thumb over my lips, and a small chuckle leaves him. “I don’t think you realize how long I have been wanting to do that.”

Giving him a questioning look, “How long?”

“Pretty much since the day you ran into me in the hallway. I held back because of what you just went through. I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.” Hunter grabs my hand, threading our fingers together. “But when I saw your face light up after taking the practice test,” He laughs a little and shakes his head. “I’m just so proud of you, Emma.”

“I’m still really nervous about it, but I was so surprised with how I did on that test you gave me,” I said, zipping up my bag, throwing it over my shoulder, and grabbing my sweatshirt from the table, draping it over my arm.

“You will do amazing. Think of it as another practice test you have, and there was no pressure, right?” Hunter asks, and he’s right. I didn't feel any pressure on needing to finish at a certain time. He gave me all the time I needed to get it done. I read through each answer, solving each one even if I knew the answer in my head.

“No pressure at all,” I say with a smile covering my face. Hunter reaches out his hand for me to grab, and I thread my fingers through them.

As we walk out of the library, Hunter's phone rings, and he grabs it from his pocket. He looks down at the screen, and I squeeze his hand, “Hey, I have work in an hour. I think I will go home and rest before then.”

He looks at me, nodding his head, “I will stop by during your shift, okay?”

---