by Nell Iris
I don’t have to wait long for my order to arrive, and the girl waits while I take the first bite of the pastry. The tartness of the lemon and the spiciness of the cardamom is tempered by the perfect amount of sugar, and like she’d said, it is to die for. I can’t help the small moan that slips out of my mouth, making the girl laugh.
“I’ll go tell the boss you approve then?”
“Please do. I approve more than you can imagine.”
“Oh, I can imagine, all right. That sound was downright dirty.” She winks at me. “Enjoy.” She disappears behind the counter, and I dig my e-reader out of my pocket and settle down to read. More people come into the shop, but I’m immersed in my book and the wonderful coffee and don’t pay attention to what’s going on around me.
Not until someone sits in the other chair. I look up, ready to scowl at whoever’s interrupting, but break out in a smile instead when I’m met with Manne’s grinning face.
“Hi! What are you doing here?”
“Hey.” He holds up a takeaway cup of coffee. “Came for my daily fix.”
“I hope you have a cardamom cappuccino in there. It’s divine.”
He chuckles. “Nope. Nothing fancy for me. Just plain black coffee.”
“You’re not staying?”
He shakes his head. “I’m working. I just popped in to pick up lunch.”
“That’s too bad.”
His smile grows wider, popping his dimples and crinkling his eyes and if he doesn’t stop that immediately, he’s going to melt me into a puddle. “Yeah, too bad.”
We keep looking at each other, grinning like idiots.
Supported by his elbow on the armrest, he leans closer. “How’ve you been?”
“Great. Today is my day off. I love beautiful snowy days like these, so I went for a walk. I needed to warm up, so I came here. It’s the best place to relax and I’m contemplating a second coffee. Life is good.”
“Sounds like an awesome day.” His voice is low and velvety and does all kinds of funny things to my insides.
“It is. It’s even better now.” There I go again. Blurting out stuff. But his gaze falls to my mouth and he leans even closer, so I guess he doesn’t mind.
“I agree.”
I hum. “How’ve you been?”
“All right, I guess.” He takes a sip from the takeaway mug, and I watch him, my gaze zeroing in on his bobbing Adam’s apple. His thick, long fingers are wrapped around the cup and look strong enough to crush metal, but I know they would touch me with gentleness. His muscles bunch in his arms underneath the thin coat he wears as he leans close to me, making me want to feel them around me.
The dimples are out in full force when he lowers the mug. Gawd, they’ll be the death of me. I tighten my grip on the e-reader to stop myself from reaching out and touching him.
“Uh…how’s your reading coming along?” I ask, voice raspy.
His smile dims and I want to kick myself for asking a stupid question. “It’s slow. But it’s going, I guess.”
“I’ve been upset with myself. I remembered only after you’d left that I should have asked you about audiobooks. You know a lot of the literature you need is available as audio, right?”
Manne fiddles with his cup. “Yeah, I listen to audiobooks in the truck when I work. But I want to get better at actually reading, too, so…” He shrugs.
“Of course. I understand. So what are you listening to? In your truck?”
“The Shining. You know, by Stephen King.”
“Yeah? Is it any good?”
He raises his eyebrows. “You haven’t read it?”
“I’ll let you in on a little secret.” I do a come-hither motion with my index finger, and he leans closer. “Not even librarians have read all the books in the world,” I whisper.
He chuckles, and I’m happy to see the slight tension in his shoulders, brought on by my reading question, disappear. “I’m disappointed. Then how will you know which books to protect me from if you haven’t read them all?”
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry, but you’re on your own when it comes to Stephen King. This librarian doesn’t do horror.” I shudder.
He guffaws. “You’re too cute.”
A black-haired woman emerges from the back, holding a paper bag, heading in our direction. “There you are,” she says and hands the bag to Manne.
“Yeah. Sorry. I saw someone I know and was distracted.”
“Yes, I see that.” She turns to me and extends her hand. “Hi. I’m Susy. I own this place, but more importantly, I’m this big oaf’s sister.”
Oh! Of course. Dots connected, I can spot the similarities between her and Charlie. The black hair, the pointy chin. The determination to protect Manne shining from their eyes.
I shake her hand and smile. “Nice to meet you. I’m Adrian. I work at the library.”
When she hears my name, her face breaks out in a grin. “Aha. You’re Adrian?”
“Susy,” Manne groans as he shakes his head.
“I am. Am I to be interrogated by you as well?” I smile to show I’m kidding.
“What do you mean?” she asks.
“Charlie paid me a visit at the library yesterday.”
Susy rolls her eyes and Manne slaps his forehead. “She didn’t!” they say simultaneously.
I laugh. “She did. She’s lovely.”
“She didn’t tell me about it,” Susy says.
Manne groans. “That explains it.”
“Explains what?”
“She asked me yesterday if I was going to the library on Saturday. Said it would be good for me.” Manne shakes his head. “That girl.” His eyes shine with affection.
“You have to understand that she’s very protective of my brother.” Susy’s amused and beams with pride. Even if she’s not saying it out loud, she’s approving of what Charlie did.
“Oh, I understood. Trust me.”
“I can’t believe it,” Manne mutters.
“Well, what do you expect when you can’t shut up about him? Adrian this, Adrian that. I feel like I know you already,” she says to me, making me snicker.
Manne’s mortification grows with every word until his face is glowing red. “It’s time for you to shut up.” His tone is grumbly, but his tone is fond. Brother and sister clearly love each other, and it makes me happy.
She snorts. “Good luck with that. You haven’t succeeded in getting me to shut up in forty years, what makes you think it’ll happen now?”
He looks at me. “Help?”
I chuckle. “Yeah. When you figure out how to handle sisters, let me know.”
We all laugh.
“I gotta go,” Susy says. “Work work work work,” she adds in her best Rihanna imitation. She kisses Manne’s cheek and smiles at me. “It was very nice meeting you, Adrian. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
“It was nice meeting you, too.”
She disappears into the back, leaving us alone. Manne squirms in his seat. “I’m sorry about her. About both of them.”
“Don’t be. Having two such fierce warriors in your corner is a good thing.”
“It is. I love them to death. But I wish that they could keep their noses out of my business once in a while.”
“I don’t know, man. I think sisters come with this feature. Mine are the worst busybodies you’ll ever meet.”
“You’re probably right.” Manne checks his watch and frowns. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. I’m working, so…”
“Of course.”
He leans closer. “I enjoyed seeing you again. You’re funny.” He lets his eyes wander over me before meeting my gaze.
“I enjoyed it, too.” I keep my voice low. Intimate.
He nods and stands, and I stand, too. Offering him my hand, making him promptly set the to-go cup on the table, then wrap his fingers around my hand, his index finger brushing against my wrist.
“Enjoy the rest of your day off,” he says, tightening his grip.
“
I will. I hope I’ll see you again. Soon.” I brush my thumb on the back of his hand.
“Yeah, I’ll…” He clears his throat, his brown eyes boring into me. “I’ll swing by the library.”
“Please do.”
“I really have to go.” He makes no move to let go of my hand.
“Yeah.”
Our palms are still pressed together. His thick fingers wrapped carefully around me. “Okay,” he breathes.
The bell at the door, indicating someone entering the coffee shop, pops our bubble. With a final squeeze of my hand, he lets me go and grabs his coffee. “Bye.”
“Bye.”
He looks over his shoulder as he walks away, smiling, almost walking into the door. Then he’s out on the street, but my body is still buzzing. I sit in the chair with a sigh, sad to see him go.
I pick up my e-reader, but I just fiddle around with it on my lap while I’m staring out the window, unable to concentrate on the book that had me so captured just a few minutes ago. I don’t know how long I’ve been doing that when someone sits next to me.
It’s Susy, of course it is, who sets down another cappuccino on the table and pushes it close to me.
“Back to interrogate me after all?” I smile.
“Nope.” She grins and crosses one leg over the other, hands in her lap, looking relaxed.
“Lecture me?”
Her grin widens. “Maybe?”
“I’m all ears.”
That makes her chuckle. “I think I like you.”
“Thank you?”
She leans forward, elbow on the armrest, and lowers her voice. “I’ll tell you something about my brother. He’s a sensitive guy. No one thinks that about him because of the shaved head, the piercings, and tattoos, but he is. He’s had a hard life and people have treated him like shit. Despite all that, he’s remained a kind, lovable guy, with a heart bigger than anyone else’s. But guys take one look at him and expect someone rough. They find out he’s a garbage collector, look at his muscles, and expect to be tossed around, pressed up against a wall, and fucked within an inch of their lives. But all Manne wants is to cuddle and love on someone. When guys realize, they leave and don’t look back.”
I nod. Keep my voice low. “People are assholes. Too quick to judge.”
“Yes. But you didn’t. And I know it’s your job to help people, but you went above and beyond.”
“It really wasn’t—”
She cuts me off with a wave of her hand. “Don’t. Take the compliment.”
I nod. “Okay.”
“Thank you.” She holds out a folded piece of paper. “I’m trusting you with this.”
I unfold it. It’s a phone number. I look up at her.
“You can text. He’s got an app that reads texts aloud. And that converts his speech to text.”
“Are you sure?”
“Sure you’ll treat him like a human being? Yes, you’ve already proven that. Sure you’ll live happily ever after? That part’s up to you, isn’t it?”
I nod.
“Susy!” The girl behind the counter calls for her attention.
“Coming,” she answers. “Gotta go. Enjoy your coffee. It’s on the house.” She flashes me another smile, then she’s on her feet, hurrying across the shop.
I put the e-reader on the table, giving up all pretense of reading. Instead, I take a sip from the steaming cappuccino and keep fiddling with the note that holds Manne’s phone number.
It doesn’t feel like she gave me a phone number; it feels like she gave me a big responsibility. Not in a burdensome way, but solemn. Serious. Less “I’ll kill you if you break his heart” and more “I’m trusting you with something precious to me.”
A trust voluntarily given. Am I worthy of it?
What do I even want? There’s no doubt about the mutual attraction, but can it be more than the potential of a great romp in the hay? Do I want more?
I’m not the kind of person who gets lonely; as long as I have my family and my books, I’m pretty happy. It’s been a while since my last relationship, but I haven’t been looking for another one. I haven’t not been looking either; I’ve been happy to take things as they come.
I tuck the note with Manne’s phone number inside my phone case, and lean back, looking at the beautiful day outside the window.
I’ve been thinking a lot about him, and not only about his physical attributes. I’ve thought of him. His determination to try to master his dyslexia. The courage it took to face his fears. The way he spoke so lovingly about his niece. How he seems to be genuinely kind and caring.
So, yeah. It’s safe to say I’m attracted to more than just the physical side of him. And if I’m reading the signs correctly, so is he. Why else would he speak to his family about me? If the chatter had only been friendly, it wouldn’t have prompted handing out his phone number followed by the “guys want him to slam them against the wall” speech, right?
I must admit it would be nice having someone to share my life with again, so I grab my phone and add Manne’s number to my contacts. Then I open my text app.
Hi. This is Adrian. From the library. Your sister gave me your number.
My thumb hovers over the SEND button, but I groan over the lame message, delete it all only to retype it word for word. This time I click SEND without hesitation and stare at the phone for a while as though I’m expecting a reply to pop up immediately.
“He’s working, you idiot,” I mutter to myself, shove the phone into my pocket, and pick up my e-reader. But my concentration is shot, so I finish the coffee, wave goodbye to the nice barista, and head out into the lovely winter day.
Chapter 3
Manne doesn’t reply to my text until later the same afternoon.
Manne: Of course she did.
Manne: But I’m glad.
I smile as a third message pops up on my screen.
Manne: Sorry for taking so long to answer, but I just got off work. Is your day still great?
Adrian: It is. I was out walking for hours. I love winter. I could have stayed out all day, but real life happened so here I am. Folding laundry.
Manne: I hate when real life interferes.
Adrian: It’s terrible. But alas, nakedness is frowned upon at work so it had to be done or I would have frightened the little old ladies tomorrow.
Manne: I’m laughing.
Manne: And are you sure about that? Maybe the little old ladies would be delighted and throw themselves at you?
I chuckle as I tap out my reply.
Adrian: That would frighten ME, so no matter the scenario, someone would be scared.
Manne: Then maybe I should stay away from the library tomorrow since the books frighten me.
Adrian: Or I wear clothes to work and no one is frightened. You know I’ve got your back.
Manne: Too bad. I was looking forward to you naked at work. I bet that’s just the thing that would make me unafraid of books. Positive associations and all that.
My smile grows so wide, my face hurts. I abandon the rest of the laundry and wander to the bed and sit, leaning against the wall, propped up on my pillows.
Adrian: We can certainly explore that option, but I suggest we do it in a more private setting and not in a public library where anyone can come in at any time.
Manne: I don’t know any other suitable place. It needs to be full of books or the desensitizing won’t work. Because being naked in a bookstore is also frowned upon, I assume?
I burrow down in my pillows and wiggle my butt. The blatant flirting makes my belly tingle with anticipation. I haven’t experienced it for so long, and I’ve missed it more than I realized.
After re-reading his messages, I get out of bed and walk to the kitchenette, turning on the wide-angle option on my cell phone camera and snap a picture of my place.
As I had mentioned to him the day we’d met, I have books on every possible and impossible surface and need a bigger apartment. But I like it here, and I hate moving, so I jus
t ignore that the walls are bowing outward and find new places to stack them. Linnea lectured me when she found a book in the fridge once, but that was an honest mistake. She didn’t believe me, and I can’t say I blame her. Soon, the only book-free space in my tiny studio will be the fridge.
I send him the picture as I drift back to the bed and retake my previous position.
Manne: Holy shit. You weren’t kidding when you said you have a lot of books.
Adrian: I wasn’t.
Manne: I bet you have more books than the library.
Adrian: LOL no. I wish. But they have a few thousand square feet of space on me.
Manne: You have enough to intimidate me. You’d definitely have to be naked when I come over.
When. Not if. The tingles in my abdomen spread to the rest of my body and I burrow deeper into my pillows. I’ve forgotten how much fun flirting is.
Manne’s next message makes me burst out laughing.
Manne: Or if you wanted to wear a bowtie and nothing else, I guess that’d be okay, too.
Adrian: Only a bowtie? Really? Is this some weird fetish you have?
Manne: It’s not my fault I find bowties sexy.
Adrian: Then whose fault is it?
Manne: Yours, duh. I never knew I found bowties sexy until a couple weeks ago.
Adrian: No one’s ever said that before. Dapper, yes. Distinguished, gentlemanly, elegant. Yes. Never sexy.
Manne: Now you know.
Adrian: So you think me wearing nothing but a bowtie would condition you out of being afraid of books?
I picture myself in my favorite bowtie and nothing else, opening the door to a fully dressed Manne. His big frame towering over my small apartment as he’s devouring my naked body with his intense gaze.
I jump when the phone rings, but hurry to accept the call as soon as I see Manne’s name on the screen.
“Hi,” I say.
“I got tired of hearing my phone’s robotic voice reading your messages. I need to hear you saying all those things.” His deep, gravelly voice settles low in my stomach and I lay my hand over my dick and bite my lip so I won’t moan.