PENNY LETS OUT A SIGH, slumping dramatically out of her chair onto the floor.
I glance up from my dog-eared copy of Othello. After a moment, when itâs clear sheâs determined to make the dusty underside of this table her new home, I put the book down and shimmy underneath too. Itâs a tight fit, given that this old table in the stacks isnât all that big, but itâs worth it when I see her smile. I shuffle closer. When I ran into her on my way out of the gym this morning and she invited me to come to the library with her, I couldnât help but say yes. She looked so cute in her forest green sweater and pleated black skirt, her gold butterfly necklace shining in the hollow of her throat, that I couldnât have said no if I tried.
I let her lead the way, and she dragged me up three narrow flights of stairs to this little nook. I thought for half a second that she just wanted somewhere mostly private to hook up, but then she sat down and took out a gigantic textbook, so I rummaged around in my bag for Othello and the crappy little reporterâs notebook I use to take notes. That was an hour ago. Itâs been torturous, even though weâve been chatting, so I donât blame her for needing the break.
âThis is a disaster,â she whispers.
âWhy are you whispering?â
âItâs a library.â
âWeâre so far into the stacks, I doubt anyone but us has been here in the past decade.â
âStill. Itâs respectful to the books.â
âAre you one of those people?â I ask, my voice as low as hers. âNever dog-eared a page in your life?â
âThat copy of Othello is atrocious.â
âI got it used.â
âStill. Iâve been watching you.â
I grin. âIâm distracting, I know.â
âI really should be studying.â She pouts, crossing her arms over her chest. âI just hate it so much. And I hate that I hate it, which makes it worse.â
The emotion in her voice, that edge of wobbliness, makes me reach over and put my hand on her knee. I swipe my tongue over my lip. I want to kiss her, but I manage to hold off. âIâm sorry.â
She kisses me instead, surprising me with the force of her lips against mine, her delicate fingers working through my hair. We havenât fucked since a couple days ago on the train, and every second of that was worth the ache in my knees. I become aware all over again of the fact weâre underneath a table, tucked away in a forgotten corner of the library, but just when my dick twitches with interest, she pulls away.
âThanks,â she says, her voice as soft as a cloud.
âYou should take your mind off it,â I say, trying to sound normal instead of the total horndog Iâd like to be right now. The way her skirt falls over her thighs is practically criminal. âTell me about your book.â
She shakes her head, but sheâs smiling. âYouâve been waiting for a chance to pull that out.â
âMaybe. But tell me at the table, Iâm too big for underneath here.â
She snorts, but clambers back into her chair across from me. It was getting cramped under the table, but what I really needed was some separation. Another minute, and Iâd have ruined another pair of her tights.
âItâs a romance novel,â she says.
âI figured.â
She goes all squinty-eyed, like sheâs expecting me to laugh. I just raise my eyebrows. âWhat kind of romance?â
She sighs, undoing her braid and shaking out her hair. âI donât even know if itâs any good.â
âSo? Itâs still cool that youâre doing it.â
âThanks,â she says. âI donât know, Iâm trying my best. There are so many authors I admire, and the thought of making up a story that someone might like just as muchâ¦â
âItâs magical.â
She smiles. âYeah, it is magical.â
âIâm nowhere near that creative, so Iâm fucking impressed.â I nudge her boot with my sneaker underneath the table. âWhatâs it about?â
âItâs a fantasy romance. Basically, this wolf shifter has to get mated in order to take over the pack after his dad dies.â
âAnd he doesnât want to?â
âNot really, but he knows itâs important, so heâs trying to find someone when this human woman crosses paths with him. Sheâs on the run from her abusive ex and she needs a place to stay, so he lets her hide out with him.â
âThat sounds cool.â
Flush colors her cheeks. âYou donât have to pretend.â
âIâm not pretending.â I lean over the table, reaching out to take her hand in mine. Sheâs wearing a ring with a little moon and stars hammered into the metal; I wonder if she got it because it reminded her of her book. âIâm guessing theyâre like, meant to be?â
âBasically. But he needs to mate a werewolf, so if she wants to be with him, she has to agree to be bitten.â
A grin spreads over my face. âKinky.â
âKind of,â she admits, her flush deepening. âItâs sexy, and really fun to write, even though I should be focused on school.â
âCan I read it?â
She jerks her hand away. âNo one has but Mia. And itâs not like itâs done.â
I hold my hands up. âI donât have to critique it or anything. Besides, Iâm sure itâs awesome.â
Sheâs quiet for a moment, clearly considering it. âMaybe.â
âGood enough for me.â
She shakes her head slightly. âYouâre so weird.â
âWeâre equally weird.â I glance down at my book. I need to finish reading this and get started on my response paper, but instead, I flip to a blank page in my notebook and draw a hook. âWant to play hangman?â
âReally? Hangman?â
âYou want to study even less than I do right now.â I write out spaces for the word Iâm thinking of: verisimilitude. âBet you canât guess the word I have in mind.â
âIs it incorrigible?â she asks dryly.
âNope.â
âYou sound entirely too pleased with yourself.â
âBecause youâll never guess it.â
She narrows her eyes; thereâs a competitive glint in them now. She crosses her arms over her chest and leans over the table. âGive me a hint.â
âItâs long.â
She glances down at the paper. âA real one.â
âItâs a noun.â
âI hate you.â
I fill in the first letter and tap it with the pen. âThere. If you win, Iâll buy you whatever you want from the vending machine. But if I win, youâre sending me your book.â
She sighs, sounding put-upon, but I can tell sheâs game to play. She holds out her hand for me to shake. âDeal. Get ready to give me a candy feast, Callahan.â
âNot a chance, Red.â