Page 20 of I Met Him At The Library

Instead of handing her some money for black out curtains, I rolled my eyes and strolled toward the four-poster solid oak bed. For now, it was easier and cheaper to comply with her demands.

“I am not moving this bed again, so if you don’t like it you’ll have to make friends with someone else to help you,” I warned.

Moving to the other corner of the bed, she began tugging, helping me to move the monstrosity. After quite a bit of struggle for us both, we finally got it where she wanted it.

“Where do you want the nightstands?” I asked after a moment to let the burn in my muscles settle.

“I think in the guest room,” she replied and I groaned loudly.

Her guest room was pretty packed with boxes of things she never unpacked when she arrived here months ago. It was the place where things went to disappear forever. At some point, she would move again, and I firmly believed she’d move those boxes without even knowing what was in them. We’d all been there before.

Grabbing the lip on the top of the nightstand, I lifted it from the back. To my absolute horror, the drawer in the front slid open and inside were things no brother ever wanted to see in his sister's nightstand. Things women used for … pleasure.

Setting the nightstand back down quickly, I backed away as Lacey spun toward me at the thump of the nightstand on the floor. I stared up at the ceiling because making eye contact with my sister after seeing the toys in her nightstand would be impossible.

“What the actual fuck, Lacey? You couldn’t hide that shit better, or I don’t know not have me move it?” I yelled.

“Oops, I forgot those were in there. Sorry,” Lacey laughed, not at all apologetically, as she closed the drawer and picked up the nightstand.

I shuddered in disgust and quickly made my way toward her front door. Grabbing my hoodie from the coat rack on the wall, I tugged it on. I needed to vacate the apartment immediately. I didn’t want to know a single thing about what my sister did with her private time, and now I knew and, oh god, I needed brain bleach!

“You can handle the rest on your own, I’m out of here. Please don’t contact me for at least three weeks as I’ll be busy bleaching my eyes and brain!” I shouted before opening the door.

“Ryan, it’s just toys! You’re thirty-six for fuck’s sake. Grow up!” Lacey shouted before I closed the door behind me, and shuddered once again.

Brain bleach, I needed brain bleach stat. I rushed down the stairs only to bump into the one person who could make me forget the horrific images running through my brain. Emily stared up at me with widened eyes.

Chapter 12

Emily

All I needed to do today was write to make up for my lack of writing yesterday, then go grocery shopping. Unfortunately, my upstairs neighbor had a visitor, and the noises were distracting me. I hadn’t written a word since the person showed up, and I was growing more and more frustrated. As the noises upstairs got louder, I sighed in annoyance and unbraided the small section of my hair I absent-mindedly braided repeatedly when I was trying to focus on a writing task. It was one of those small habits that kept my hands busy.

Deep grunts, what sounded like furniture breaking, and even some yelling came through my ceiling before I couldn’t handle it anymore. Rearranging my plans, I jumped up from my desk and strolled across the living room. Grabbing my purse, I hoped I could shop for an hour and then she would be done with whoever it was upstairs. I threw on my navy blue peacoat and opened my door.

Stepping out, I pulled my door closed before digging in my purse for my keys. Finding them, I locked up fast and turned to leave only to be frozen to the spot in front of my door.

“Ryan, it’s just toys! You’re thirty-six for fuck’s sake. Grow up!” My upstairs neighbor shouted before a door slammed shut.

Not two seconds later, who came jogging down the stairs but my Ryan. I mean, he wasn’t my Ryan, obviously. A pang of disappointment ran through me realizing he was with my neighbor. Oh god! I had a crush on a taken man?

He hadn’t told me he was dating anyone, and there was definite flirting. But was he flirting because I was flirting? How should I respond to this? My first instinct was to be pissed and go off on him, but my normally quiet nature struck that reaction down with the quickness. Nervousness settled in my stomach as my brain warred with the options.

I didn’t know if I even had a right to be upset. He wasn’t mine. But shouldn’t he have said he was seeing someone?

“Emily.” Ryan paused on the stairs and stared at me.

“Hi,” I choked out.

“You live here?” He asked.

“Yep.” I nodded and then turned and took a few steps for the stairs.

Jogging down them as quickly as I could, without tripping and taking a tumble, Ryan’s steps pounded against the stairs after me. Of course he was catching up with his height. I wasn’t short at five-seven, but he was at least six or seven inches taller than me.

“So, uh, how are you?” Ryan asked as we reached the bottom floor.

“Uh, great. I’m going to pick up a few things from the store.”

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