Page 63 of Falling

I was just afraid I wouldn’t be able to convince him of that if it turned out not to be enough.

“Listen in?” I asked, wishing he had time to snuggle up to me and fall asleep. Wishing he hadn’t slept in his chair half the night until I realized he wasn’t responding to my texts and came looking for him, that I hadn’t had to scoop him up and take him back to the bar and tuck him into bed, exhausted.

Well, I was glad I’d found him. But I wished he hadn’t had to go through any of this. I’d done everything I could, but I wished I could’ve just waved all his worries away.

Wasn’t the library an obvious good for the community? Why did we have to defend it at all?

“Make sure you’re doing it right,” Miles said, smiling wryly. “You may not know this about me, but I’ve become a connoisseur of children’s literature recently. Gotta make sure the kids are getting the full experience.”

“I could get you a chair,” I offered.

“No,” Miles said, sitting down—or collapsing, more like—on the floor cross-legged, leaning back against one of the short bookcases off to the side. “I’m happy down here. If I snore just… kick me.”

“I won’t,” I said. “You need to sleep.”

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” Miles yawned. “I slept last night, anyway. For like. Three or four hours. Thank you for making sure some of them were in a bed.”

“You’re making a habit of sleeping over,” I said, smiling as Miles closed his eyes.

“Your bed is very comfy.”

“You’re always welcome to it,” I said as the kids started arriving, claiming one of the pile of pillows I’d scavenged from around town for storytime to put behind Miles’s head. I wanted to kiss him, just to let him know I was there, but I remembered what he’d said about the kids making fun of him.

And they would have. He’d learn to ignore it eventually, but there was a sensitive soul under all that wool tweed.

He was still figuring things out, and I wanted to give him the time and space he needed for that. Especially right now, while his mind was on other things.

I’d fallen in love with him quietly. I could keep loving him quietly, too.

By the time I’d gotten through my first book and been begged to read another one, Miles was curled up on the floor, snoring softly.

I let him until after the kids had all been picked up by their respective parents, accepting their well-wishes on Miles’s behalf.

Seth had said they’d have a verdict by lunchtime. When I glanced at the clock, it read five past twelve. I wasn’t sure what lunchtime meant to the town council, but it couldn’t be too long now.

Miles woke with a start when I sat down next to him, blinking in the sunlight that flooded the children’s section at this time of day. He relaxed when he saw me, scrubbing his face with a yawn.

“I’m awake,” he said.

“You’ve been awake the whole time,” I agreed diplomatically. “Just resting your eyes.”

Miles’s lips twitched. “Were you a defense lawyer? I never asked.”

“I was more a paperwork guy than a courtroom guy if I could help it,” I said. “I don’t do well under pressure.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Miles said.

His head tilted just far enough to rest on my shoulder.

In the middle of the children’s section, in the middle of a Monday, when there were still kids and other patrons around.

My heart tripped over itself, then sped up as though it was making up for lost time. I tried not to breathe in case it dislodged him.

“Tell me it’s gonna be okay?” Miles asked.

“It is,” I said without hesitation. It would be. One way or another, we’d figure it out. Even if the council voted no to renewing the budget today, that wasn’t the end. There’d be a way to appeal. I was a paperwork guy and I had an insider on my side. Plus the whole town.

Seth kept telling me people listened to me, and he was right. People did listen to me. I could make them listen to me to keep the library.