“Jake said you’d be here,” he says. “I need a book for my English paper. Something with… you know. Words.”
Weird. Not particular. Not sensitive. Just weird.
“You’re in the wrong section,” I say, my voice quieter than I intended. “Romance is two aisles over.”
Liam is standing at the end of the aisle, holding a damp umbrella. His T-shirt has a small coffee stain on the collar. His hair is curling at the ends from the rain. He looks lost.
And then I hear it. The muffled laughter from downstairs. His laughter.
“Jake said you’d be here,” he says. “I need a book for my English paper. Something with… you know. Words.”
Weird. Not particular. Not sensitive. Just weird.
“You’re in the wrong section,” I say, my voice quieter than I intended. “Romance is two aisles over.”
Liam is standing at the end of the aisle, holding a damp umbrella. His T-shirt has a small coffee stain on the collar. His hair is curling at the ends from the rain. He looks lost.
And then I hear it. The muffled laughter from downstairs. His laughter.