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Chapter 3
When I get home, the sun is shining so bright, it's almost like there was never any rain at all. Except for the virtually-oppressive humidity. I decide that I don't care. So, I grab a sheet from the hall closet, strip down to just my shorts and bra and head out back with my book.
Once I'm spread across the sheet, I open to the passage I love the most. It only takes a few moments to find.
"I don't know if I should care for a man who made life easy; I should want someone who made it interesting."
I read it – just those words – over and over again.
The truth is, at the almost-adult age of twenty, I've never really cared about men at all. And to be honest, there has only ever been one real man in my life – Charlie. But my dad doesn't constitute a man. Not in the biblical sense, anyway.
There have been boys, though. None of whom interested me in that way. Not really. Just boys that I've hung out with, studied with, and maybe even kissed a little.
It's funny how all that changed a little over a week ago.
When I saw him, I felt something.
Something new.
Something different.
Something…sexual.
So, that was why I chose this book today. He didn't seem to notice anything about Daughter of Fortune. Although, I guess there was no real hidden meaning there. Even if I did dog ear that page. I just – arrogantly – wanted him to know that I was well-read. Smart even. I mean, he has to be smart, right? He works in a library for god's sake.
Although, I suppose that it would be supremely unfair for someone to be that gorgeous and intelligent, too.
But today – today I was determined to make a point.
Today I chose Summer.
Yeah, I could have read it on my Kindle. I mean, all of Edith Wharton's work is public domain now. But I wanted him to notice. And I'm not sure that he did. But if he was watching, and if he has any literary knowledge at all, he'll know.
Summer is about sexual awakening.
And watching him for the last week has definitely awakened something sexual inside me.
I roll over onto my back and place the book on my chest. I close my eyes and I think about the beautiful man with the bronze hair. Quiet and perfect and somewhat brooding. I want to get to know him. And I want him to get to know me.
The damp heat covers my skin – it presses against me almost like a body. I've never felt that, but I want to. And with that thought, I fall asleep in the sunlight.
The library is quiet and cold when I walk inside the next day. I don't even look to see if he's sitting at the desk. I walk back to my table in the corner and sit down. The cool plastic of the chair is soothing. My skin is pink – red even. I'm too sunburned to wear anything except this cotton dress…not even a bra. I should feel embarrassed, but instead, I feel strangely excited and liberated. It's terrifying.
I lean over.
Just a little.
And this time, he's looking.
I quickly lower my head and pull the book from my bag. I open it up to the page I dog-eared on purpose. I read the passage one more time.
I hope that he's not easy.
I really hope that he's interesting.
And then, with the book in hand, I slowly walk up to the desk.