Page 30 of Hit the Ground
Too late. Too late. Too late.
Opening his eyes now, after all this time? It was almost insulting.
I swallowed past the lump forming in my throat and pulled the application toward me. “Why don’t you go find the book you’re interested in while I get your card ready?”
He hesitated, eyes holding mine like he wanted to say something more, then he gave a single nod. “Yeah. Okay.”
As he turned and strode off between the stacks, I shook off the effects of being in close proximity to Caleb Kelly and went to work. My hands moved automatically, inputting his details into the system like I’d done dozens of times.
What book could Caleb possibly want to check out? He wasn’t a reader. He’d admitted that.
The card printer whirred to life. I was focused on peeling the adhesive backing and slotting it into the protective sleeve when his boots sounded on the carpet again. I looked up, ready to ask what he’d chosen, and froze.
In his big hand was a hardcover copy ofThe Shadow of the Isle.
My favorite book. The one I reread at least once a year. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him that. How it had gotten me through countless hospital waiting rooms, the weight of my sister’s illness, lonely days and nights, and had transported me to another realm when everything was too heavy.
Instead, I clamped my mouth shut, took the book from him, and scanned it.
He rested his elbow on the counter. “I heard it was good.”
“It is.” I didn’t quite meet his gaze when I smiled at him. “I hope you like it.”
“You know, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to talk to you about it as I read it.” He took out his phone. “Could I have your number?”
It wasn’t often I got angry. I’d never found much use for it. Now? Red flashed behind my eyes as a ball of fury filled my belly to the point of bursting.
Could he have my number?
Could he have mynumber?
Oh, this man. Whatever he was playing at was not happening. I was over him. I’d moved on. He didn’t get to suddenly take an interest in me.
“No.” I pushed the book and his new card toward him.
He went stock-still for a moment, then uttered, “No?”
“Right.” I squared my shoulders. “No. You can’t have my number.”
He dropped his phone on top of the book and stared down at me, his brow furrowed in deep lines.
“Alice, I—”
I held up one hand. “After four years of liking you and being too”—I dropped my voice to a whisper—“chickenshit to do anything about it, I finally made a move, and you rejected me, which is your right. So—”
“You’ve liked me for four years?” he asked, incredulous, which showed how little he paid attention to me.
“I hate to admit it, but yes.” I tucked my hair behind my ear and put on a brave face. “Then I decided to get over you, so I did.”
“You did?” he echoed.
“Yes, I’m over you.”
I sounded a lot more sure than I felt. Eventually, though, it would be true. Hopefully, sooner rather than later.
Before Caleb could say another word, Jesse appeared beside him. “Are you checking out a book?”
Caleb slid his gaze from me to his son. “I am. Thought on the nights you’ve got your nose stuck in one, I could join you.”
