Here's chapter 2 for ya. I've made a few little adjustments but basically its the same as before. If you're new here, hope you enjoy this next bit.
She entered the empty section and scanned the shelves for what she needed. It was a book written by an insignificant baker of the time. The name was funnily enough, Baker. The title: A Man's Trials in Time. She hadn't been to the class yet but the book sounded more interesting than the actual lesson to be learned from it. The B sectionfor authors(the section that her desired book would be in) was the third row of the History Novels and stood three shelves above her head.
"I could really use those long legs now." She said to the open isle, thinking of the man in the brown jacket. She giggled to herself shortly before stopping herself with a throat clearing cough. "Laughing at your own jokes. Wow." she told herself before turning her attention back to the book that was hovering above her like some sort of hateful reminder of how short she found herself to be. It didn't seem like it, but maybe… she thought maybe she could reach it. She could see the books above her head, and she could pick out the one she needed. A dark brown leather-bound journal, with red title inscribed on the spine, sat shoved between two blackish gray paperback books. It was scary brilliant how it seemed to pop like it was in a movie or some shit. "You got this." She said with a challenge in her own smile, as she started to reach for the shelf. Her fingers played across the very bottom of the leather; tickling the idea of grabbing it. If she could just push in the bottom, maybe the whole thing would fall on her head and she could get onto her reading. She scratched her nail into the bottom of the book. It tilted. It wobbled. It… was steadied by another hand. Long skinny fingers lead to a slender bony wrist, which lead to a long brown sleeve and that to the handsome face of the man from before. His eyes, that she would be daft not to see, were a bright green hazel and stared up at the book in his hand. They slid slowly down to meet hers and shook slightly as he took a deep breathe through his nose. She let her eyes drift to his cheekbones and then down his jaw line—speckled with six AM shadow. She settled her eyes on his adam'sapple. It bobbed and her eyes shot back up to his eyes, still locked onto hers. He smelled of mint and stale smoke. She breathed in slowly and kept her eyes from drifting again.
"Here," he let out with his most recent breath. He didn't move for a few seconds but did pull his arm down, sliding it along the case behind her. They were so close, she could feel his breathe on her nose. He held the book beside her but she barely noticed as her eyes wavered over his.
"Th- thanks…" she let out as a whisper, surprising even herself. She looked down but immediately returned to him. Sarcasm played at his mouth and he looked back and forth from the book to her. She was starting to hate that smile of his but found that it did something to her insides that resembled melting and twisting.
"You probably need to get that checked out." He said, still as close as he had been for the last solid minute. He even seemed to lean in for just such a short time before pulling away completely. Maybe it was just her imagination. The brown leather was still held in his hands as he turned quickly and made his way back into the lobby. It was then that she was leaning heavily on the bookcase behind her. It was bolted down so it's not like it would have fallen, but still she straightened herself up and brought the back of her hand to her cheek—warm and probably pink. That's when she noticed everything. She wasn't getting any work done. She just spent almost a minute total staring at someone she didn't know; noticing things like how the dimmed light from the isle fell under his chin and drifted a shadow over his neck, how many freckles he had across his cheeks, how those same freckles reappeared on his hand and down his fingers. He still had her book. She looked up finally getting to the part that might actually mean something to the rest of her life. He still had her book and he had just walked away with it. Checked out. He was going to the check out desk.
"Oh, God." A long sigh fled her mouth. So it wasn't just her imagining it. At this point she could definitely, 75%, pretty much say she wasn't imagining anything in this situation. Her head was swimming horribly and she was filled with hormones from her, kind of, maybe close call. Why had she been so drawn to him? Why was he so close? Why had he stopped? She knew that if he had tried to put the moves on her, she wouldn't have resisted. Actually she was fairly sure that he had put the moves on her and she had not resisted. So why did it just end? He walked away when she could have sworn he was getting just close enough to see sparks of gold in his eyes. He had her book. She needed that book. Oh God. "This is going to be embarrassing."
Anyway I hope you liked that. I'm actually working on the next part so I hope to keep on this track for a while. Please review and tell me if you have any comments, questions, or concerns ;D