Page 5 of The Baller

This is how kids must feel entering a candy store for the first time. Or any time.

My eyes swept slowly along the rows, my smile growing with each one. There was so much history here… so much knowledge, stories, and… I stopped.

My stomach flipped in a nervous little dance.

In the middle of the row, the very top section of the shelf was open. Whoever had been here before me hadn’t replaced the glass barrier. The books were open for anyone who wanted to see them.

Touchthem.

It was too high for me to see what was kept up there, even when I lifted up on my tiptoes and clung onto the shelf for more leverage.

I dropped back onto my heels.

Peering around the end of the row, I found Ethan standing near the front doors. I could see Meg and Jake on the second floor overlooking the store from the balcony, and Ava was by the Women’s Fiction where I’d told Millie I’d be. Ava and Millie were the same height as me, so they wouldn’t be able to help, and I was too far from Ethan or Jake to get their attention without commanding the attention of everyone else here.

Right this very second, I was alone, with nothing but the open shelf for company.

The nervous little dance turned from a jig into something resembling the macarena.

I should probably go and find Millie. I should probably listen to my instincts screaming at meto go and find Millie… But there was something about these books.

These books held more than just the words on the page. I desperately wanted to open one,touchone. I wanted to do something I definitely shouldn’t. I wanted to do something no one else in the world knew I was doing right now.

I stood in front of the shelf and gazed up.

If I tried to climb up it, then my luck dictated it would topple. And that would not help me stay low-key, and I’d probably be liable for thousands and thousands of dollars of damage.

The news networks would lose their shit with excitement:Radley Andrews fucks up once again.

I needed a better plan.

There were no ladders along here, but at the end of the row, I spied a small stool. I still needed to get on my tiptoes, but the stool was tall enough that when I stepped up, I managed to touch the spines of the books. Double checking there was no one to witness what I was about to do, I gripped my fingers around the first one I could and eased it out.

I’d been concentrating so hard on not making any noise while being as careful as possible, I didn’t realize there was someone behind me until it was too late.

A long arm reached over my head and pulled the book free.

All at once my senses became overwhelmed. A crushing panic flashed through me. My veins flooded with adrenaline and cortisol. My brain screamed at me for being so stupid. Because without looking, I knew the heavy bicep brushing my shoulder belonged to a stranger. A strange man.

A man who’d snuck up on me.

I carried a panic button wherever I went, but all I managed was a lowly and pathetic squeak as I spun around, and hit a hard plane of muscle.

“Whoa, there.” His big hand grabbed my arm, pulling me back from the topple I was about to make.

Any minute now my rib cage would cave in from the hammering it was taking.

I managed to tear my gaze away from the thick chest filling my vision and look up. Immediately, the ringing in my ears stopped and my racing pulse moved to a gentle trot as I found myself locked into the most hypnotizing eyes I’d ever seen. Light hazel stared back at me with ill-concealed bemusement, along with a hefty dose of curiosity to really add that element ofwhat the fuck is this woman doing?but not, I realized,holy shit, it’s Radley Andrews...

This guy wasn’t staring like he had plans to kidnap me and take me back to his fraternity.

Nope – I double checked, just to make sure – I was right the first time; there was only bemusement.

I’d been surrounded by security men my whole life; the fittest of the fit. I’d seen servicemen, elite operatives, guys who ran fifteen miles a day for something to do, guys who built their muscles to protect, instead of simply to look good and pose in front of a mirror.

And yet, I’d never seen anyone like this guy standing in front of me.

He definitely wasn’t a frat boy; I knew that much.

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