Page 2 of I Met Him At The Library

“You too,” Emily replied, giving me a bright smile.

It was the highlight of my day, and if hearts could appear in eyes, mine would have them. I lived for that gorgeous smile of hers and resolved to witnessing it twice a day since that very first day. I hadn’t missed a day since.

“Idiot,” Betsy muttered as Emily disappeared through the doors, forcing me to crash back down to earth.

I scowled at the old woman before turning back to my work. One day I’d find the confidence to start a conversation with Emily. Maybe tomorrow.

Leaving the library an hour later, I stopped at the bench where Neil sat, sleeping as usual. I worried about the old man, but at least he was getting out of his house as the weather was warming up some. Putting my hand on his shoulder, I shook him gently.

“Neil, buddy. It’s time to wake up.”

“Huh? What?” The man startled awake, his head darting around before his gray eyes met mine.

“Do you want me to walk you home?” I asked.

The man cleared his throat as he straightened his jacket. His thinning gray hair was tousled as always, but he tried to smooth it out with his hands.

“No,” he grunted, “I need to get dinner.”

“I hear they have meatloaf on special tonight,” I responded.

We only had one diner in the town, and most everyone had the daily specials memorized. We also had a small cafe with only a few tables, and the bar served pizza and appetizers. Other than that, any food in this town had to be homemade.

“That sounds good. See you around, Ryan,” Neil stated before groaning as he lifted himself from the bench outside of the library.

Neil was a good man, lived about a block away, and was well known and loved by the locals. We all watched out for him, too. Tourists would often comment about the homeless guy who slept sitting on benches, but he had a nice house over on Mill Street. Trey’s done work in his house from time to time to keep it updated and in good shape. Neil was an old retiree who, when tired, would sit down and rest for a moment. His reappearance on the library bench and around town was a sign springtime had arrived in Maple Creek.

As the man hobbled away, I shook my head with a laugh. It was one of those small town quirks I loved. In the city, no one would even look twice at the man sleeping on a bench unless it was to complain about the homeless population.

Chapter 2

Emily

The heavy bass vibrating my ceiling was the exact reason why I spent several hours a day in the library. As I walked into my apartment, my upstairs neighbor’s music was pounding away like clockwork. In about thirty minutes, the music would turn down to a more acceptable range, before it would turn off entirely. But then the other noises would start up.

I didn’t know what her night job was, but she sure as hell wasn’t an accountant, not with those types of noises. But hey, to each their own. Besides, I wasn’t in any place to judge her for making money. I made mine from Sci-Fi Romance novels.

Placing my laptop bag on my black computer chair, I laughed to myself. Sci-Fi Romance Author sounded so much better than alien smut writer. Both were true, and, unfortunately, neither would be acceptable in a place like Maple Creek. At the very least, I didn’t want to risk the town reading the explicit sex scenes I wrote and then wanting to talk to me about them. Or, for some people, trying to scold me for it being "inappropriate."

I did well for myself as an indie author. It afforded me this apartment in my home town plus all of my necessities. I had spent a lot of time turning this place into my creative haven, too. It was a smaller two bedroom apartment with an alley kitchen, a small eat-in, and one bathroom. I transformed it into my own small library by adding bookcases along one wall in the living room. I had a modest TV in the center, but every other shelf was packed full with books.

Most authors read a lot, and well, I was one of those hundred-plus-books-a-year readers. It was a hobby I never quit from my youth. If my nose wasn’t stuck in my laptop writing, it was in a book escaping into a world not my own.

An emerald green velvet sofa sat on the wall opposite of the book shelves, and an off white plush rug covered most of the dark wood flooring. I left the walls white and added a mixture of eclectic art prints and black and white photos - all in second hand frames I’d found at Trudy’s Timeless Treasures.

Trudy was in her fifties and moved here some fifteen-ish years ago. She started her little antique shop several years back, and a few people claimed she was the reason the town started gaining a bit of a tourist appeal. She was extremely kind, but along with Betsy and Ruby, she was a part of the gossip brigade. Still, she had a fantastic eye for unusual and unique items. I visited her store often to see what I could find.

Most of the town’s business was in vacation rentals and bed-and-breakfasts. We had a few fun quaint activities like apple picking, fishing, or camping but for the most part people came in to take a week or two of enjoying small town life before disappearing back to their big cities with their big lives.

We were about to head into tourist season again, which meant more people milling about and commenting on how old fashioned or adorable our town was. They didn’t know about the insane rumor mill, or how every single move someone made was noticed by at least two or three people, who would tell everyone else.

Which was why absolutely no one knew about my crush on Ryan Carter. Ever since he moved into town, I had an eye for him, but I kept my distance despite him being close to Meghan’s brother, Trey. Could I have asked Meghan about him? Yep. Did I? Nope.

That was the problem with small towns. If you approached someone you had a crush on, and they didn’t feel the same, there was no escaping the embarrassment of it. To make matters worse, everyone in town would find out about it, too, which would cause people to pick sides at least until a new piece of juicy gossip came around.

Being the center of attention in this town was a special kind of hell with the whispers and accusations. Living my whole life here, I’d experienced it a couple of times and had zero intentions of going through it again. For instance, my last boyfriend, Nick, was in construction and worked on a couple of the new bed-and-breakfasts that were being built here. When he moved after the work was done, a whole mess of rumors started about our “break up.” This went on for months. It was part of why I’d remained single for the last couple of years.

I didn’t love Nick, and he didn’t love me. I was under no illusions he would have stuck around for me. We had fun while it lasted, but everyone in this town was sure we were going to get married and have babies or something. It wasn’t something either of us wanted.

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