breath, I watched them walk away.
“I wasn’t expecting that, Emmalynn.”
“My response?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think my opinions put him off?”
“No, not what you said, dear. I wasn’t expecting your response to him. You’re smitten.”
I turned to Arty, cringing, wondering if everyone had noticed. Had he noticed?
“I can’t blame you. His attraction is appealing because it’s timeless.”
“What do you mean?”
“Fads fade, but classic beauty never goes out of style. He’s an excellent example of masculinity the likes of which would push David out of Michelangelo’s favour.”
I suspected Arty was bisexual, although he’d never told me. I detected a hint of jealousy too. I wasn’t sure if it was aimed at me or Damien.
I chuckled. “You forgot young. He’s young.”
Arty propped his chin in his hands, staring at Alan who was explaining our state of the art computers to Damien. They were classic too, but not in a good way.
“I bet he can dance.”
Yes, he can.
I put my arm around Arty. “My dance card’s already full, Fred Astaire.”
Chapter Four
I recovered quite nicely from the shock of seeing Damien Wolfe—I exiled myself to the stacks to organise the shelves. The solace of the dark, windowless room helped calm me. Everyone hated the stacks. They were kind of scary, with the tall shelves and blind corners, but I loved it here. That was why I always volunteered for this job. No one ever came in here, so I could leave my iPod on low, eat my lunch at the small desk in the corner and most of all think. The Red Hot Chili Peppers were singing about Californication and I let my mind drift to my work and the music.
“I love the Chili Peppers,” he said.
I hadn’t heard him come in. I was grateful my back was to him so he couldn’t see my eyes go crazy wide, and my jaw fall to the floor.
“Why did you leave so quickly?” he asked, his husky voice now familiar. My spine stiffened. He did remember the other night after all.
“I was in the wrong limo. I wasn’t exactly looking for a conversation with a stranger,” I said, not wanting to turn around. I couldn’t look at that gorgeous face and remain dignified at the same time. Still, his lingering scent drifted towards me as he came closer. It wasn’t just cologne—it was the smell of hot man and belonged entirely to him. A scent I hadn’t sampled in so long I’d almost forgotten how it could make me squirm.
“That’s not what I’m talking about…Jessie.”
Shit—he remembered our dance. I tugged on my scarf, wishing I could cover my face with it.
“You never called me. Hell, you gave me a fake name. No one has ever done that.”
“Keep your voice down, we’re in a library for God’s sake.”
“Are things still complicated for you?” He placed his hand on my shoulder, gently urging me to turn.
I wished I hadn’t told him to keep his voice down—his gravelly whisper was more disorienting than his regular tone.
“Aren’t they always?”
He looked down at the newspaper I’d set on the chair next to my lunch. “You like crossword puzzles?”
I stared at it, blinking my eyes, staring at the paper. “Yes.”
“You must be very good at them.”
“Why do you say that?”
“You do them in pen. That’s confidence and commitment if I ever saw it.” His smile was so boyish and endearing, I struggled not to match it. “Look, let’s start over. Let me satisfy all your cravings with that special four-letter word that begins with F and will leave you completely sated.”
Fuck .
“Are you kidding me right now? Does your flirting come with an off switch?”
He grinned and shrugged with false innocence. “No, I’m pretty much always turned on by you.”
“I’m not interested in participating in any four letter words that start with F.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Jessie, the word I was referring to was food. What were you thinking?”
Damn him…he knows exactly what I was thinking.
“My
Learning to Kill: Stories