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“Cute.” My tone is one of boredom with the hope he gets the point. He can come home and be everyone’s hero, but he’s not mine.
“Bennett asked me to return Wren’s books. I guess they were past due or were going to be.”
Bennett is one of Ben’s many cousins, and Wren is his cute six-year-old daughter. Since he’s a single dad, I’m sure he needs help. Now I feel as though I can’t be mean since Ben’s helping out a fellow single parent.
“Jeez, Gill.” His brown hair shakes with his head, and his gaze falls to the floor. “I just want to clear the air with you.”
Rustling sounds emerge from behind the rows of books.
Oh hell no.
I stand, my chair sliding back, and pack up my books, shoving them into my bag as quickly as I can. “I need to go.”
“Wait.”
He stands right as I’m about to pass, and I bump into his chest, faltering back a few steps. He grabs my arms, and I push them out of his grasp, stepping farther back. His head tilts, and he studies me for a beat longer than normal.
Before he can say anything, I barrel through the sliver of an opening between him and the bookcase. “Don’t follow me.”
He doesn’t listen. He never listens. I feel him behind me and hear his thundering footsteps a few feet back.
“Bye, Mr. Torres,” I say, waving and not making eye contact.
He doesn’t say anything because I’m sure he notices my new stalker, and he’s unsure how to handle the situation.
The alarm sounds as I pass through the security area. Now I realize why Willowbrook installed them. Because of people like me. There was a big fight when they did, with some town residents feeling offended that the librarians were accusing them of being thieves. Even though the librarians had proof of how many books were disappearing. Now I look like one of those people.
I blow out a breath, turn around, and again smack right into Ben. My eyes fly past his impressive chest and thick neck that I used to kiss and nuzzle my head into. I ignore his soft pink lips that kissed me with love one moment and pure lust the next. Once I meet his eyes, I ignore the questions and the concern.
“Seriously, can you just not?” I push past him and toss my bag on the table in front of Mr. Torres.
Mr. Torres’s hands slide along the sides of his head, moving his hair into a ponytail and releasing it. The same nervous tic he does when Miss Greta comes in to read Storytime to the kids every Saturday afternoon. One day, he’ll man up and ask her out. I hope.
I dig out the book on bugs that I never should’ve had in the first place. “I’m sorry.”
Mr. Torres accepts the book with a pitying look, obviously feeling bad for me. I’m so done with that look. “Have a good night.” He stares past me at Ben.
I walk through the security panels again, and this time, the alarms don’t go off. I catch all the book club people staring at me, and it’s all I can do not to flip them off.
Once I’m outside with the sun setting, I turn and face Ben. His hands are shoved into the pockets of his shorts, and he looks like a puppy who just got kicked.
“Listen, I get that you’re home, but can we just not do this?”
“I wasn’t following you,” he says.
“For however long we’re both in this town together, can we please just move around one another without conversation or pleasantries?”
He steps closer to me. “Answer one question for me.”
“No.” I flip around, my bag of books swinging around with me.
Ben grunts. “Fuck.”
Normally, I’d apologize for hitting someone. But I keep on walking toward my car. He deserves it. I would have gladly taken that physical pain over the heartache and agony he caused me.
Chapter Seven
Ben
