Page 6 of Second Draft

“You’re an enigma.”

“An enigma?” she frowns.

“A mystery, a puzzle. Something difficult to understand.”

“I know what the word means.” There’s a hint of frustration in her voice. “I just meant,how?”

“You’re reading a book in a bar. You kind of stand out.”

She glances down at the novel and shrugs.

“It also doesn’t hurt that you look like a…”

Her head jerks up, gaze hard on me like I was about to insult her, which is the furthest thing from the truth.

“Like a what?” she demands.

“Nothing.”

“No. Say it. Like a what?”

Like a good girl that’s just begging for a real man to fuck the innocence out of her.

“Like a librarian.”

“A librarian?” She glances down at the white button down and black skirt she’s wearing and frowns.

“Or a school girl. But not one of the naughty ones–”

“Okay, I get it.” She rolls her eyes. “I just came from work.”

“At the library?” I chuckle, teasing.

“No.” She tucks her hair behind her ear nervously, and admits with a small smile, “A bookstore.”

Of course. That’s the first thing about the girl that’s made sense to me.

Without thinking, I reach out and trace the curve of her jaw, and feel her tremble beneath my touch.

Her eyes widen and she sucks in a shuddering breath, expression churned with uncertainty and confusion. Desire. Need. Fear.

Everything about the girl screams innocence.

I pull my hand back, and she lets out the breath she was holding in.

“Are you even old enough to be in here?”

“I’m twenty-one.” Her chin juts out defensively.

The same age as Travis. And yet they couldn’t be more different. There’s a vulnerability to her, but also a strength.

I lean back, elbows resting on the bar. “So, you’re twenty-one. You like to read…in a bar, on a Saturday night, while drinking water–”

“I told you, I’m waiting for my friend.”

Friend. Not a boyfriend.

“What else do you do?”

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