Page 32 of Raw & Vulnerable

The way it felt when he was inside of her. She’s reminded of it in every movement she makes, the ache in her center somewhat distinct. Is this what obsession feels like? There’s a longing in her chest, a longing she’s ashamed of because she shouldn’t want something she already knows she likely can’t have again.

Why do you think it won’t happen again?

Because, I’m not that…interesting. It was a one-time thing. He wanted to poke the uptight librarian. I wanted to get laid. There’s nothing in common between the two of us. He’s an ex-con from the wrong side of town. I’m the girl that got raised in a lovely neighborhood that’s never even heard of a home invasion.

It hurts to think it might never happen again, going home with him. Heck, Minnie thinks she’d even feel comfortable enough to actually let him come to her home. Though, his housemates are a little concerning. She wonders if they also have records. Her father always told her, ‘sometimes it’s not the person, but the people they hang with that you need to be aware of’.

In essence; you can tell a lot about a person by the people they keep company.

Crap, what’s that say about her, then?

Despite the angsty musings, Minnie relaxes on her couch and daydreams, thinking of him regardless of the futility of the situation.

She’ll probably see him at the library again. No doubt. Maybe he’ll ask her out again. Maybe he’ll ignore her. Only time will tell.

Who knows? Maybe she freaked him out with the whole armed robbery story.

Chapter 14

She goes back to work as normal, telling herself she has nothing to be ashamed of. So what if she sees him? That’s perfectly fine. They’re both adults, they had a good time. Nothing bad happened. Well, aside from her sort of dumping her mental baggage on him, which she hears is not an attractive feature.

Men don’t like emotional baggage. She’s not sure they like baggage of any sort, honestly.

She’s heard the line that women are looking to change men, to fix them, so baggage isn’t quite an issue. The other way around is quite different; men want to find women the exact way they want them and hope they never, ever change.

She finds that it almost hurts when she doesn’t see him on Monday when she’s back on duty. When she doesn’t see him the next day after that, disappointment settles in, realizing she must have done something wrong. Maybe he went and bought those textbooks just so he wouldn’t have to run into her again.

Maybe she just didn’t match up to his expectations in bed; he’s clearly more experienced than her. She agonizes over it at night, dismayed with herself, suddenly feeling a little bit ‘less than’. It’s not a good feeling. It’s like listening to someone rubbing styrofoam pieces together, or like watching an accident happen. She can’t stop it, but she’s feeling it, feeling like some sort of tortured soul.

Her and her stupid, delicate feelings.

Here she is, Minnie, not dating for multitudes of years, only to leap head first into a fling with a man she normally would avoid like the plague. It feels like heartache, like an itch that just can’t be scratched. She wants to see him and she doesn’t, afraid of what she’ll see in his gaze.

Boredom. Or worse; dismissal?

She mopes about it for a few days, though no one can really tell the difference between her reserved, neurotic personality and her trashy heartache miasma, the one that positively oozes into every sip of tea, making the pages of her books impossible to read.

It was one night; why does she have to feel this way?

Because he became routine and suddenly, he’s gone. You liked how alive he made you feel, alive in a good way, like watching the sun rise into the sky on a chilly morning.

She reaches acceptance near the end of the week, though the process is a painful struggle. With Ariel back in her own home, Minnie has had endless opportunity to wallow in disappointment.

Shelving books is a simple chore, almost mindless for Minnie. It helps. She’s up on one of the ladders, reaching for a section up high, balancing precariously when a voice calls out to her from below, brash and shockingly loud for the quiet floor. “Hey miss. You work here, yeah? I’m having a shit time finding a book. Can you help?”

Her heart leaps unevenly in her chest, like a bird fighting to be set free. Minnie schools her features carefully as she turns around slightly to look downward.

“This is the quiet section,” she admonishes with her sternest librarian-whisper voice, taking in the familiar twist of his lips from behind her glasses. The urge to kiss him is so strong that she needs to take another breath to steady herself. Her fingers grip the ladder tighter. “I’m going to have to ask you to lower your voice before you disturb the other patrons.”

With slow, predatory steps, Gage comes closer, right at the foot of the ladder she’s on. He’s looking up at her, eyes shadowed. There’s no sweet expression on his face that she can decipher; he’s wearing his elusive, male posturing mien. How can such cruel lips taste so sweet? “You goin’ to make me talk up at you or are you comin’ down?”

Sighing heavily, Minnie starts down the ladder, even though she enjoys making him look up at her. Stepping off the final step, she whispers loudly, “What did I tell you about the volume of your voice? You are being a disturber of the peace.”

On even ground with him, Gage is so close that she can smell his aftershave, pine needle and clove. It curls around her like a hug, smelling of nature. When he takes a few steps forward, she takes a few back, only stopping when her back hits the bookshelf lightly. Minnie stares up at him, trying to seem unfazed by him using his body to box her in.

As if he’s trying to intimidate her.Thissong and danceagain.

If anyone were to walk by, they’d likely be worried about Minnie.

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