Page 38 of Never Say Yes To Your Boss

“Right. They’re that way too here. History, science, medical stuff, psychology—”

“Smut romance. That’s probably the biggest section by far, from what I’ve seen you reading lately. God, my grandma would have loved you.”

“And I would have loved your grandma. You should give her props. She’s the reason Everleigh is here.”

“Yeah, about that—”

“She’s in the library, and she seems sad. You should go talk to her. Say you’re in there to look at thepsychologysection. I’ve already taken the liberty of ordering books on PTSD, trauma, nightmares, grief, death, panic, and anxiety… Just in case you were ever interested. I thought it would save time.”

“Liar. You thought it would be a rare opportunity indeed, and if I wanted one, you better have them at hand. Otherwise, I’d lose interest, and the moment would be over, and that would be that.”

Hans grins. He makes having this conversation so much easier. It’s not really about pride, but damn it, it is rather hard for me all the same. “Exactly right.” He picks up his book, arranges one leg over the other, and resumes reading.

I’ve clearly been dismissed. I’m also not going to be able to concentrate on work any longer, so I get up and find myself heading to the library. Yeah, as if I was going to go anywhere else. Everleigh is practically drawing me to her through somekind of shimmery, otherworldly, more than friendly force I don’t really understand.

I wish we weren’t operating on borrowed time and a contract. I wish this were more our reality. That she just lived here, and we were more than friends. The twinge in my chest and the growing tent in my slacks say that Ireallywish we were more than friends.

The library is one of the larger rooms in the house, with towering bookcases built into the wall on one side, free-standing cases on the other, and a bank of tall windows on the far wall to let in light. The furniture in here came, like most of the things, with the house. The previous owner had a penchant for a dark, gothic kind of feeling, hence the heavy red drapes hanging from the windows in most of the rooms, including here.

Everleigh is curled up on one of the big red vintage chairs. The velvet upholstery sets off her pale skin. Her hair is a tangle of messy blonde tresses on top of her head—a little staticky from leaning against the chair—her slim legs are tucked up under her, and her head is bent over a book that’s open on her lap. Her little yellow sundress is a cheerful splash of color in the room, but when the door opens and creaks shut, she looks up at me, and her expression doesn’t match.

Her eyes are not so blue today. In fact, they looked tear-stained and washed out. Her cheeks are a little puffy as well, like she’s been crying all morning. It’s one in the afternoon, so she would have had plenty of time to do that.

Why didn’t I come in here sooner? Say something sooner? Like four damn days ago?

“Everleigh…” I want to tell her everything. I want to fall at her feet and ask her what I can do to make it better because it’s in my power to do a lot. I want to ask her to tell me, to rely on me, to trust me.

How could I have gone from relying on almost no one and having so few people in my life to feeling this full now? How could she have taken up residence in my head and in that vast expanse in my chest in just a few weeks? All these years, I’ve been single and alone here, working myself half to death because it was an easier option than not. All these years, and maybe she was always meant to come into my life. Maybe my grandma knew something I didn’t.

“Darius.” My name is an echo of the way I said hers. She offers me a shadow of a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, but it tries. She’s trying. She’s clearly pushing away her sadness, burying it. But I don’t want her to have to do that. I’d like to bear some of it for her if I could.

“I just, uh, came in here for some books.”

She bites down on her lower lip, and her eyes flick around the room. “Books. Yeah, the library is a good place for that.” Right, so she doesn’t really believe me since I didn’t sound very convincing.

I sigh hard enough to make my shoulders rattle and creak. It’s a big sigh for a big, cavernous room. The house often smells like whatever air fresheners the maid service leaves around, or sometimes like coconut candles because Hans has a penchant for those, but this room smells exactly like what you’d expect. It smells a little like ancient drapes, mildew, and really old books. I like it. Honestly, I do. I can see the allure that libraries hold for people.

“I came to see if you were okay.Andto get some books.”

She sits up and extends her legs, flexing her toes like having them tucked up under her has made them go numb. Then, she closes the book and sets it aside. It’s something with a red hard cover. I can’t read the title from here. “Do you want me to help you find them?”

“Uh, they’re in the self-help section.” Damn it. That’s exactly what I didn’t want to say. “I mean, the psychology section. Or something. I didn’t even know there were sections in here.”

“Oh, yes. Hans organized it. He showed me all around the library the first day after I got here.”

I’ve been living in this house for years, yet I didn’t know about any of that. Everleigh is so perceptive. She’s so alive. Having her here has changed everything for me. Everything about me, too. It’s made me want to try. It’s even made me want to sit for another minute in that damn car. She doesn’t make me want to be better.Iwant to be better. Even a few small improvements would be great because I don’t want to be such a hot mess, even if Everleigh is okay with that.

“What are you looking for, exactly?”

Something that will make me less fucked up.“Come and sit in the car with me.” The best-laid plans always go to shit. At least, I think that’s how the saying goes. I hadn’t planned on it. If I’m surprised, so is Everleigh. She doesn’t even have shoes on. Her feet are bare against the thick rug over the hardwood floor. She looks like a summer child, meant for fields of wildflowers and blue skies, not to be locked away in here.

Not to be so unhappy.

“There’s something I want to try,” I tell her.

Her brows crease inwards. “In the car?”

Yeah, I’d be questioning myself, too, if I were her. “Yeah, in the car.”

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