I flicked on the light by the door of my apartment, breathing hard.
Damnit. Must be the bulb. I should call my super.
But that would mean going back down five stories of stairs.
Noooo!
Because my fifth floor walk-up is bad. It’s fifty steps up and down every time I take out the trash, or do laundry in the basement. Every time I want to pop outside for a snack, or just drop by the drugstore, there was all that up and down.
Uck.
Some people would love it, scampering up the steps, arguing for the benefits of exercise.
Not me.
I’m a curvy girl, and while I like to stay in shape, it’s more about taking a stroll around the neighborhood or walking my neighbor’s dog Floofy. The thought of getting on an elliptical trainer or exercise bike filled me with dread. What do people think about when they’re on those things? Do they feel like rats, scampering endlessly in a cage? Uck.
But here I was now, with no light.
And going back downstairs was out of the question.
Darn it. The bulb had flickered last night, but hung on by a thread. On my way to work, I tried to remind myself to go to the store for a new one, but it’d completely slipped my mind. It was the tall and handsome stranger who’d come in the library looking for books. He’d distracted me, it was his fault.
I blushed at the thought of the commanding man, glad for the darkness although nobody was there in my little apartment to see my red face.
Feeling around blindly, the keys jingled when I dropped them on the bookshelf. Slowly, slowly. Carefully, my hip bumped a piece of furniture, probably my gram’s rocking chair. And finally, I was in the kitchen. At least the kitchen light worked fine, and the bright halogen glare flickered on, making me squint.
Uck, everything was green.
At least that’s what it looked like in the flouresence, shadows dancing on the walls.
But I sighed. It’s just a byproduct of apartment living. We don’t have much natural sun, so everything takes on the greyish-green hospital tinge at all hours.
But at least the kitchen was clean and neat, just like I left it this morning. My stomach rumbled with hunger and I poked it ruefully. Be quiet, came my admonition. It was going to be ramen tonight. Again.
Although I already knew it was empty, I opened the fridge. Maybe I should pray for a miracle like the Virgin Mary’s baby. Or for the tall stranger at work to notice me again.
But it was going too far. That guy was so out of my league, and even if he wasn’t, there was no way I’d mess up my perfect job by trying to date someone who worked at Carlton Corporation. Where else could I work and be around books all the time, with barely anybody bothering me?
No place, that’s where.
So yeah, I’ve got to count my blessings.
Because not only was the job perfect for a bookworm like me but as a part-time gig, I was able to keep going to the community college not far from my apartment. One day, if things went the way I planned, I’d go to a regular college and major in English. My dream is to graduate with a mortar board on my head, and a treasured piece of paper in my hand.
Besides, there was something about going to work every day in that big and beautiful library that made my dreams feel even closer. Maybe it was because the CEO of Carlton Corp. was a self-made billionaire who’d started from nothing and climbed his way all the way to the top. Maybe some of that would rub off on me.
Maybe.
I laughed aloud at the thought of someone as big league as Mason Carlton being an inspiration for my tiny dream.
Yeah, right.
He was a king, riding in a chariot in the clouds.
By contrast, I was a mouse, tucked in between the aisles, swept beneath the rug.
So with a sigh, I turned back to my dinner. After making myself some ramen—doctored up with sliced carrots and a shredded chicken breast—I sat at my rickety kitchen table and like every day after work, dissected my hours at the library.
First, I couldn’t believe I didn’t hear the stranger when he walked in. Barely anybody ever came into the library, so any sound should have set off my alarms. But I didn’t hear anything until HE was standing in front of me.
The man looked like a romance novel hero come to life with his broad shoulders and gorgeous mien. Those cool, blue eyes were like ice cutting straight into my soul, butterflies hovering in my stomach. Okay, not just hovering, full on flapping their wings, making me go hot and cold at once.
“How can I help you?” came my awkward squawk. My eyes probably looked googly and big behind the horn-rimmed glasses, white-knuckled fingers clutching my book.
Thank god the cover only had a picture of a flower on the front and not of the hot and sexy things inside. Because I read romance. A lot of it. A lot of books with pictures of Fabio on the front, blonde hair blowing in the wind. So thank goodness, this wasn’t one of those novels.
But the man knew all the same.
It was like he had x-ray vision and could see right through the flower on the cover to the words on the page, where the hero and heroine exchanged kisses, and then … you know. X-rated stuff. Triple X-rated in fact, NC-17 stuff that would make your mother blush.
Because the corner of his lip quirked slightly, oh so attractive.
And from that slight move of his sculpted lips, my mind went crazy. In the book, the naive young heiress was finally about to make love with the corporate raider who’d taken her parents’ company and now threatened her own wealth. And I’d just gotten to a juicy scene. A super juicy scene if you know what I mean, involving steely manhoods and his lips on her ….
Just like this man’s lips before me now!
What would it feel like on my …?
OMG, what was I thinking?
Even with the flower on the cover, why couldn’t I be reading something else? Something important like Money Magazine or Fortune. That would make me look serious and studious, instead of a blushing, sweaty girl.
So embarrassing.
And to make things worse, I’d practically fallen all over myself trying to help him then. Yes, sir. Anything you need sir. Ugh! Did he think I was a complete idiot, or just a typical eighteen year-old virgin who’d never seen a man before? He probably just thought I was an idiot.
And why did he want to research the Virgin Mary? What would a man want with religious texts and long, boring tomes written by scholars? He looked more of a corporate raider than a guy holed up in a carrel all day.
But the dark alpha was calm, assessing me coolly.
Did he know I was untouched? Could he tell?
No. Couldn’t be.
And of course, I had to make myself look like even more of a moron when I’d mumbled my name and scurried off into the aisles afterwards.
Why oh why had I done that? Why couldn’t I have acted normal? Why did I have to stammer like a pimply adolescent?
Oh well. It was too late now. I was probably never going to see him again. No one ever came down to the library. At least not on purpose.
Still, as I nibbled on my ramen noodles and swallowed the warm salty broth, I couldn’t help wanting the thing I couldn’t have. To see the handsome stranger again … as soon as possible.