CHAPTER FIVE

THE GIRL

“Tell me about last night, come on. Did you go back to his place?” Brittany whispers, voice low behind her cup’s paper sleeve.

“Mmn mmn,” I mumble into my cup as we step out of Café Kora.

“Is that a no? You didn’t get any vitamin D?” Her eyes are filled with curiosity. “Come on. Tell me.”

“I will. Later,” I promise, embarrassed and hoping she can’t tell. “After my shift, I swear.” I nod.

She gives me a knowing look but lets it go. “Okay, Lovie. See you later then.” With a smile and wave, she joins the group of pedestrians and crosses to the other side of the road. It’s a Saturday, and Brittany has rehearsals with some of her colleagues from theater class. I, on the other hand, have a full-day shift at the school library where I work part time. Not really for the money, my mum can give me enough of that.

But—and this might sound unbelievable for a twenty two year old—because it’s quiet. I just needed the silence. The smell of books. The calm. Somewhere I could breathe without remembering what I’d lost. And the books don’t ask personal questions. Judge me all you want, but I like the smell of old paper and alphabetized order. I think that’s why I decided to study Literature in the first place.

By the time I clock in at the library’s front desk, the caffeine is already seeping through my veins, replacing the alcohol

from last night. I wince at the imagination of myself naked with nothing but pink, fluffy bunny ears on the sides of my head.

Not exactly how I imagined my Friday night going. It wasn’t awful, just new. Maybe I should’ve given it a chance. Uugh!

The older woman at the desk, Mrs. Miller, peers at me through her glasses. “Good morning, Elowen dear. Could you resolve the new arrivals in aisle seven? There’s a ladder.”

“Of course,” I say, pushing my chair aside. I plan on making good use of my time today. I’m going to complete my paper once and for all. The deadline is in two days, and I’ve postponed it long enough. I can’t afford to waste any more time thinking about silly wet dreams.

My fingers brush along the spines one last time, recounting and confirming the numbers on the shelves. I step down to check the bottom shelves when I get a whiff of that cold, dark scent again. It envelopes my nostrils, wild and earthy, like snow-damp moss. It throws me off balance a little bit.“Careful,” a voice to my left says, hard but warm. A hand closes around my wrist, steadying me.

Looking up, I see him—dark hair, strong features dimly lit by the overhead lamp, and eyes, forest green, hidden behind gold-framed lenses, pierce straight through me.

“Rough night?” His voice is low.

I swallow, blocking out the thoughts of last night. “Kind of.” My throat feels dry.

He gives the ladder a light push, setting it securely beneath my feet. “You look tired.”

Heat rises to my cheeks. It’s almost like he knows.

“I stayed up late working on a paper,” I lie.

He nods, expression unreadable. I notice a mismatched number on a book and reach for it three rows above, but before I can, he stretches up effortlessly and pulls it down, handing it to me.

I stare at his bare forearms—strong, calm. And then at his hand, the way he offered the book so naturally. My pulse hammers.

“Thank you… I’m sorry,” I mumble, surprised at how breathless I feel. Calm down, Elowen.

I stop my mouth before it does the stupid thing again, the thing where it blurts out words without first receiving permission from my brain. If there’s any chance that this man is going to be my professor, I need to maintain some level of professionalism. A proper apology is the first thing on my list. He simply steps back, giving me room to descend.

“About yesterday…”

He shakes his head. “It’s nothing.” lips twitching like he was about to smile, or frown. I can’t tell.

“I mean the answer to your question. I don’t wear anything… cologne.”

“Oh.” I hold the book against my chest. So his natural scent just happens to smell like bark ripped off a pine tree dipped in oud. Wow.

“Okay,” I sigh, not knowing what else to say.

“You helped me with that book yesterday.” A smile creeps at the corner of his mouth, and God, he just got more attractive. “I’ve been searching for it for a while.

The way he strings his words together makes me want to stand in his presence forever, just to watch him speak.

“Just doing my job,” I shrug, trying to play it off.

“Well, I can help you with that paper.” He leans in slightly, his voice gentler now, as if he knows exactly how much that offer unbalances me. “That way we’re even.”

Oh my God, yes.

“Yeah,” I swallow. “That’s fine, I guess.”

We settle at a narrow wooden table beneath a high window. I set my laptop down, and he slides into the chair opposite me, folding his hands atop a stack of reference books he has selected. The late morning light catches the gold rims of his glasses, and for a second I’m suspended between reality and the river dream, where silver eyes haunted me.

“Show me what you’ve written,” he says, voice calm. I clear my throat and read it aloud, trying not to bite my tongue. He nods, then reaches for the laptop. His fingers brush mine as he turns it to face him, and a jolt shoots up my arm.

Calm down, Elowen. Damn.

He leans over, pointing at a sentence. “This needs a stronger verb here—‘illuminate’ instead of ‘show.’ It’ll give your argument more precision.”

I follow his finger, but I can’t think about verbs. Instead, I trace the line of his jaw in my mind, comparing the sharp angles to the face in my dreams. What is it about a strong jaw that makes you imagine it between your thighs?

His hair is darker in person, but the way it falls over his forehead is almost the same. I nod, watching his lips move. In the dream, his mouth had been softer, slower, worshipping my skin. Here it’s efficient, guiding, patient.

When he glances up, catching my stare, I flush pink.

“You okay?” he asks, eyes searching. I blink, realizing I haven’t spoken in too long.

“Yeah. Just… you remind me of someone, that’s all.

God, what am I doing?. Brittany was right. I’m so severely starved and dreamfucked it’s starting to spill into reality. I’m beginning to imagine things. Maybe I really just need some vitamin D.