Checking Out Love (4 page)

The librarian didn’t seem too bothered. He straightened. “You remember my cat’s name?”

Jeremy shrugged. “My mind is… I couldn’t tell you what my garbage pick-up day is, but your cat’s name I will remember forever.” He was so used to seeing uncomfortable expressions when he talked like that he didn’t wait to watch for one. He plowed ahead, hoping to make things less weird. “I can also name all the women who have played Catwoman. It’s how my brain works.”

He wasn’t upset. He had come here for quiet, not to flirt with some repressed guy who is far too reserved for him, even if he did have those cheekbones and those eyes and probably chest hair to match that stubble. The sweater vest said it all. “Anyway.” Jeremy waved toward the tables and then practically ran toward one. The nearest empty table was still close to the librarian, but Jeremy was done embarrassing himself for the day so the short distance was fine.

He ignored the others in case they had overheard any of that, and draped his leather jacket over a chair. He needed something to clear his thoughts, like a palate cleanser. So he got up and grabbed a book at random, then sat back down to look through it. He wriggled to get comfortable before realizing the chairs on the second floor had not been chosen with comfy reading time in mind.

He managed another five minutes before he leaned over the table with his head on his arms and read what appeared to be local crop reports from the thirties. The reports worked to empty his brain. For a while his mind was filled with numbers and crops and not recent embarrassment or thesis musings. As a bonus, the reports weren’t interesting enough to distract him from his work by making him curious about something new. Half an hour in, he sighed, closed the book, then got out his computer.

His pre-work stretching shouldn’t have attracted attention, but when he looked up, he caught the librarian’s gaze on him. Without thinking, Jeremy winked. He winked at him
for the second time
. What was wrong with him? Seriously. Some days he loved his brain and other days it was all he could do to try to act normal.

The librarian opened his mouth as if he had something to say about either the wink or the stretch, then closed it. This was good, because Jeremy had no explanation for the former. Apparently the respectable building turned him into a flirty twink of some kind, when he wasn’t, at all.

“The chairs,” he stage-whispered across the distance to distract them both from any and all further attempts at getting the guy’s attention. “You need comfier chairs up here,” he went on, ignoring the brief glares from the other library patrons. He assumed they would shush him, but for some reason none of them did.

The librarian full-on gaped at him.

“The library is still amazing, don’t get me wrong.” Jeremy tried to soothe any hurt feelings. “But were these chairs here when the place was built? I admire antiques and items of historical interest, but not when they involve my ass.”

The librarian opened his green eyes wide, and then, Jeremy would swear, dipped his gaze as if he was considering Jeremy’s ass too. He took a deep breath and then brought his gaze back up. He gave Jeremy a reproachful look.

“Oh,” Jeremy said out loud, with a small twitch. He wondered if his brain had gotten bored with smart assholes and had decided to focus on quiet and shy librarians instead. Forgetting his thesis, he watched the librarian resume whatever paperwork he was working on. He used pencils, although Jeremy was willing to bet he could have done it all on a computer. His every sweep and notation was graceful and surprisingly confident. Occasionally, a light on the phone next to him must have flashed, because he would pick up and offer one or two word answers. Every time he did, he would raise his head and Jeremy would duck behind his laptop and pretend he wasn’t fascinated.

He didn’t think he was fooling anyone. The tables around him started to clear out and the librarian’s ears were a pretty shade of red.

Jeremy was creepy. He was officially a big creepy weirdo and made himself pull up his latest chapter, determined to stop making the hot guy uncomfortable.

It worked, for a while. He read his own writing with familiar despair. He knew he had talent but decided he hated everything, and pulled out his pre-dinner snack to calm his thesis nerves. He took out one stick of soft strawberry licorice and then froze at the crinkle of plastic. He remembered, much too late, that he wasn’t in the university library, where sneaking in food was common despite the rules.

The librarian instantly raised his head at the tell-tale sound. Jeremy very, very slowly pulled the length of licorice from between his lips. He licked his mouth and made a hungry noise. “There’s no sign telling me not to!” he pleaded, with quiet urgency. People had been eating downstairs. But of course, upstairs was a different matter. “I’m starving and candy makes my thesis better.”

A snort from one of the other students at another table made the librarian furrow his brow. The other student abruptly buried herself behind a mountain of textbooks.

“Is the Beast around?” Jeremy asked, glancing to either side. “Look, if it is against the rules I won’t, even if I am dying here.” He waved to demonstrate the severity of his hunger, which unfortunately, meant he also waved the sticky length of licorice.

The librarian’s expression turned horrified.

“Oh my God. Sticky fingers. I should have realized.” Jeremy pulled the candy back and shoved the whole thing in his mouth. Then he got up while he chewed furiously and closed his laptop. He swallowed. “Okay. If I go downstairs to eat, will you watch my stuff?” The ‘watch my stuff in the library while I pee or get coffee’ covenant was sacred and true. Surely even the Beast would understand if Quiet Librarian spent a few minutes playing guard dog to Jeremy’s laptop.

The nod he got was a relief. He sighed. “Cool. Thanks. Hey, does that place across the street have good coffee?”

Again, not a single person dared to shush him, although he sensed they were covertly watching the whole exchange.

Quiet Librarian blinked a few times, then cleared his throat. “You shouldn’t… you should get something other than sugar. To eat. If you can’t focus.”

“As if sugar is my problem. Trust me when I say the sugar will actually calm me.” Jeremy left his table and approached the desk. “Are you a health nut too? Are you completely ripped under that cardigan? Just my luck.” He let out a regretful noise. The librarian studied him in outright amazement. Pale blue made him look like a fluffy piece of the sky. Jeremy smiled. “I suppose you can’t take a break and come with me?” He heard himself and realized exactly what he’d done—he’d asked the librarian out, holy holy crap—and immediately tried to call it back. The librarian’s sweater vest had dropped stitches in it, which meant it was definitely homemade, which meant his boyfriend had undoubtedly made it for him. His committed, perfect boyfriend, who grew organic tomatoes in their garden and made insalata Caprese for brunch with their friends.

“I definitely need coffee,” Jeremy summed up, face so hot it stung. “Want me to bring you one?”

“Ripped?” The librarian repeated the word after far too long of a silence. He appeared completely lost. “You’re leaving?”

Jeremy wrinkled his nose, although at least the librarian hadn’t seemed to notice Jeremy’s garbled attempt to date him. Nonetheless, he was disappointed. Was it too much to ask that just because the guy worked in a library, he could be a genius, or could at least keep up with Jeremy? Of course, that was a lot to ask of anyone. To be fair, it wasn’t as if Jeremy was a great looker or anything to make them want to try. When he loved something, he loved it, and that was all there was to it. He also tended to express that devotion the way he thought, in random, fast, seemingly disconnected ways.

Whatever, he told himself. It didn’t matter, and it wasn’t the librarian’s fault in any case.

“Nevermind.” He wasn’t lying to himself, and to prove it, he didn’t let his shoulders droop as he turned to go downstairs.

A low-voiced admonition stopped him. “If you… if you’re careful with your coffee when you bring it upstairs, you should be okay. You don’t have to leave.” The librarian took a moment, as if he had to brace himself. “But no books. You don’t go near them. You stay at the table, and don’t spill.”

Jeremy twisted around to stare in disbelief. The librarian appeared very uncomfortable.

“Dude, I won’t get you in trouble,” Jeremy vowed, and crossed his heart to show it before he hurried on his way. He may have danced down the stairs, or something similar. No one ever gave him special treatment, and this was incredibly fucking special the more he thought about it.

He kept an eye out for anyone resembling a snarling, furious, head librarian as he floated past the main desk. He crossed the street using the crosswalk, like a respectable town citizen who didn’t take short cuts, and smiled as he walked into the coffee shop, which was book-themed. Of course it was.

The evening sky outside meant the coffee shop probably closed soon. At the counter one lone employee was cleaning the pastry display. The gray-haired desi woman must have been the owner, because she didn’t grumble about him wanting a drink so late.

“Hey, what’s a good drink for a man who doesn’t like sugar?” he wondered after ordering his hot coffee with a little warm milk. He grabbed a ton of sugar packets while she steamed his milk. Jeremy had a budget, but the guy was doing him a favor.

The lady gave him a doubtful look practiced by mothers the world over. “You don’t know what he likes?”

“Cats?” Jeremy thought about it. “Books. Pencils. Sweater vests and cardigans. A classic, sensitive kind of guy. So, a cappuccino please. To go. I’ve got to get back before they close.”

“You’re taking these into the library?” Her doubtful expression morphed into disbelief, although she did steam more milk for the cappuccino. “I hope you stay downstairs or you’re very careful.”

Jeremy leaned forward conspiratorially. “Are you talking about the Mino—the mean librarian? I was warned, but I haven’t met him yet. Good old Leland, right? He can’t be that intimidating.”

“He takes his family’s legacy very seriously.” She hesitated as she reached for a cup. “But if you’re respectful, he’s not that bad.”

“I’ll admit, isolating the teens who aren’t studying downstairs is kind of a brilliant move.” Jeremy set to work adding sugar to his coffee, then securing the lid.

“Lid or not, if he sees you with that anywhere near the books and you’re out, for good.” Her warning made him nod thoughtfully, although he couldn’t resist leaning in even further to confess his secret.

“Not to get ahead of myself, but I’ve got an in. The other librarian who works on the second floor gave me the okay. It’s why I’m bringing him this.” He accepted the cappuccino with a smile, then paused by the sugars and creams to debate what, if anything, to sprinkle on top.

The silence behind him made him turn around. The coffee shop owner stared at him, then bent to get a tray for the drinks when she noticed him staring back. “Cinnamon,” she informed him, without making eye contact. “Benj likes cinnamon on his cappuccinos.”

“Ha! I guessed right.” Jeremy used the cinnamon, added the lid, then went for the tray. The woman gave him another motherly smile, this one knowing, and bagged two pastries. She placed them on the tray.

“Was about to throw them out anyway,” she explained. “And here.” She bent two straws and stuck them inside the holes in the lids to keep the drinks from spilling.

“I’m kind of loving this library and this town.” Jeremy meant it. “Expect to see me again,” he added after he paid, and then took his haul across the street.

Only one woman was at the main desk. She gave him a startled look when he walked in with the tray, but said not a single word. He had to stop and step to the side when a man about his age came hurrying down the stairs as if his life depended on it. He had an open can of soda in one hand, which was, in fact, splashing sugary stickiness all over the place as he ran off.

Jeremy’s heart felt like it stopped beating when he turned back toward the top of the stairs and the librarian was at the landing with his arms crossed over his light blue sweater vest. His fierce frown was enough to render Jeremy momentarily speechless, but then the librarian noticed him and the tray with the drinks and pastries, and Jeremy could actually see the outrage and confusion fighting for dominance in his face.

Jeremy held up the tray with a bright smile, showing off the straws especially. “Look, no spills! The lady at the coffee shop really knows her business.” He glanced around and noted that most of the other people had gone, and that his bag and laptop were exactly where he’d left them. “I love this library,” he tossed in, then smiled wider when that made the librarian—made Benj—stare at him in absolute bewilderment.

“Don’t worry, boo. I didn’t forget about you. You got me, I got you. Here.” He pushed the tray forward as he finished coming up the stairs. “She seemed to know what you like, so….” He left the rest unfinished as he proffered the cappuccino. “I didn’t even know your name. Benj,” he said it one more time, softer, and caught his breath. “Is that short for Benjamin?”

There was something to be said for quiet. Benj took the drink and held it both hands. “Benjamin, yes. My family and friends call me Benj.” He studied the paper cup as though he’d never seen one before. “I thought… I wasn’t sure if you knew my name.”

“Well, you aren’t wearing a nametag,” Jeremy pointed out. He pushed the tray at him again. “There are pastries too. She gave them to me because I’m so pretty.”