Libby the Librarian: A Rom Com Novella by Alice Bex Read Free Book Online

something I hadn’t done before.”
    “I’m sure that’s true.”
    “Fine. Do it yourself. Just a couple of buttons. See how it feels.”
    I felt like a fool making a huge deal over a couple of buttons, so I undid the top two. That wasn’t too radical.
    “One more,” Adam said.
    “Really?”
    I undid one more. He looked at the front of my blouse as if he were hanging a picture and hadn’t decided if it was level. He came closer and spread open my collar. His knuckles grazed my skin.
    “That’s better.”
    For whom? If Adam had any idea what effect he was having on me, he’d be mortified.
    “You want to go out for ice cream?” Adam asked.
    “You’ve been sitting on my front steps, waiting who knows how long, just so you won’t have to get ice cream on your own?”
    Adam never goes anywhere on his own. He doesn’t go out to eat alone. He doesn’t go to movies alone. He won’t even go shopping alone. Maybe I should turn the tables on him and make him into my project. I’ll call it the Make-Adam-Independent Project. No body-contact necessary.
    We went for ice cream. I wanted to button my shirt back up, but couldn’t think of a way to do it so Adam wouldn’t notice. I didn’t want him to know it was bothering me.
    We sat in a booth at the ice cream place. Usually, when we go out somewhere—if it’s just the two of us—we sit across from each other. This time, Adam slid into the bench beside me.
    “What are you doing?”
    “Sitting down.”
    “Why?”
    “I prefer not to eat standing up.”
    “I mean, why can’t you sit over there?” I pointed at the other side of the booth.
    “I c ould, if you’d prefer to save aversion therapy for when we get back to your house.”
    I did not, so I shut up.
    “Just don’t forget who you’re sitting next to and grope me under the table,” I said.
    “I never grope people under the table—“ He grinned. “Well, rarely. I’ll amend that statement: I’ve never groped anyone under the table when you were also present.”
    “Yes, you have,” I insisted. “I’ve seen you. Hundreds of times.”
    “I guess our definitions of groping are wildly divergent.”
    I felt his hand on my leg. I was glad I wasn’t wearing shorts. Starting at my knee and using just his fingertips, he ran his fingers up my inner thigh. He stopped a few inches shy of—well, you get the picture—and put his hand back on the table.
    “Now would you call that groping?” He asked.
    I looked straight ahead and concentrated on licking down my cone in a perfectly symmetrical manner. I could feel Adam staring at me, but I refused to acknowledge him. Right after that, he realized that his cone was melting and running down his arm. He didn’t mention the words Aversion Therapy again for the rest of the evening.

Six
 
     
    The next week was busy. I was going away on vacation the following week, to visit my cousin Tabitha in Tampa. This meant I needed to get ahead on my research requests before I left. Dr. Maxwell is adamant that no scholarly endeavors are ever impeded by what he likes to refer to as our “personal lives.” It appears that Dr. Maxwell does not have a personal life and begrudges any members of his staff having one, either.
    Adam fell back into his old habit of dropping into my office every other day. He was almost as excited about me getting a vacation as I was. He was convinced that I was going to have a hot fling, while I was gone. Did I have a decent swimsuit? He wanted to know. By decent, he, of course, meant indecent. I did not, but I wasn’t about to take him along swimsuit shopping, so I made up a leopard print bikini. That may have been overdoing it. He had it coming to him, though. At this rate, he’d soon be picking out my underwear and that was certainly not going to happen.  
    I was leaving early Sunday morning. Saturday afternoon, as I was finishing up my packing, Adam called. Could he come over?
    “Since when do you ask permission to come over?”
    “