My retort is cut off when he tilts his head to place a hot, openmouthed kiss on my neck. I expect him to keep on with his inappropriate for the library caresses, but instead, he grips my hair, gently wrapping it around his wrist and holding me inches away.
“You’re staying? For real?”
All joking is gone from his expression. Instead, I see the same vulnerability that lurks deep in my chest reflected in his face.
“I belong here. Sorry it took me so long to realize it.”
Epilogue
NATHAN
Five Months Later
For someone who got so pissed off at me for falling asleep in this chair, Hannah doesn’t seem to have any issues with taking a nap herself.
Not that I’m complaining.
It didn’t take us long to realize that the chair was actually big enough for the two of us if I sat down first and Hannah sprawled herself across my lap. Which is how we’re set up this Wednesday evening. I have my book propped on her knees, and the notes she was reviewing have slid out of her slack fingers onto the floor. I’d scoop them up if I could do it without waking her.
But I’m happy to let her sleep.
When she’s draped over me like this, every piece of me settles. Even though Hannah told me she was coming back in the fall, there was a small, evil voice lurking in a dark corner of my brain that wondered if she might have said that just to get me off her case.
But she wasn’t lying. She left New York yet again and showed up on move-in day, just like all the other students. And I took her out for a slice of her pie.
Hannah shifts in her sleep, pressing her nose into my neck and tucking her hands against my chest.
With the soft cushions cradling my back, the cool breeze blowing in from the open window, and her warm body acting as the softest of blankets, the comfort level has reached maximum potential.
Studying is officially impossible.
Carefully, so as not to wake her, I shut my book and let it drop to the floor, where it can befriend her forgotten notes.
I let my muscles relax and my brain go unfocused, and I sink into the magic that is Our Spot.
About the Author
Lauren Connolly wants to live in a world full of happy endings where female pleasure is celebrated, and men are free to experience and express their feelings. She’d also like a world where people can use whatever pronouns they feel comfortable with and fall in love with whoever their hearts desire. The real world doesn’t always subscribe to these rules, which is why Lauren often finds herself dreaming up fictional ones.
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When Lauren is not writing she is lying about how many fur babies live in her apartment, teaching herself how to sew seasonal throw pillows, or sipping a Moscow mule while scanning multiple streaming services for the best romantic drama series. Do you know what it is? Please tell her because she needs to know.
Also by Lauren Connolly
Contemporary:
You Only Need One
Rescue Me (Forget the Past #1)
Only One Bed: A Steamy Romance Anthology
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Paranormal:
Remembering a Witch
Love and the Library Page 11