Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 108(@200wpm)___ 86(@250wpm)___ 72(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 108(@200wpm)___ 86(@250wpm)___ 72(@300wpm)
I open my laptop, settling into place on the best chair in the library. It’s my new favorite spot, a big, wide chair with leather that’s soft and supple to the touch. I’ve got my legs crossed under me with one of Mason’s many blankets wrapped around me like a cocoon. It’s not actually that cold in the library, but I love the feeling of being cozy. I snuggle down further into the chair and open up a tab for my research.
Social intelligence and how it contributes to the behaviors of patrons in the library setting; 37 related articles.
I crack open one of my own notebooks and begin to take notes. Maybe it’s a little old-fashioned, but I love handwriting all my notes. It’s something that, begrudgingly, I see that Mason and I have in common.
“God, get out of my head, Mason,” I grumble.
New media literacy and its impact on libraries; 21 related articles.
Yes, this is what I’m looking for. I need to bury myself in literacy and technology and—
My phone buzzes. Unsurprisingly, it’s a text from Mason. These are to be expected now. They’re always about “Velvet” and they always leave me feeling out of sorts. I risk a glance at the screen.
I’m curious about your after-hours availability. Single fatherhood is so lonely in the evenings…
Nope. Definitely not. That is a text that I should not be dealing with any time soon. In fact, it’s probably best if I silence all incoming messages and put my phone across the room so I’m not tempted.
I do that and then return to the chair, burying myself under the blanket before balancing my laptop back in its place. Still, thoughts of Mason “after hours” keep drifting into my head.
It probably goes without saying, but my drifting thoughts are quite dirty.
I groan, and slap my palm against my forehead.
It’s time to focus on library science. No more skimming. I do a deep dive into articles brimming with so much data that it’s impossible for my brain to hold anything else.
A methodological comparison of library usage based on comparative demographics across all fifty states.
Yes, perfect. This is what I need. Nothing but numbers. I start reading, keeping my pen moving across my notebook as I go. Soon, I’m so engrossed in the research that I lose all track of time. I must, because the next thing I know I’m in Mason’s giant bed. His hands are running down my sides, his long fingers twirling in lazy circles as he gets closer and closer to my stomach. I’m begging him to stop teasing me as he moves further and further down—
“Liberty?”
His voice is a husky question, and the answer is yes. Nothing but yes to wherever his hand is heading.
“Mason,” I murmur. “Yes…”
I’m aware of the sound of his breathing. There’s something heavy on my lap, but it’s not him. It’s something else that’s in the way, keeping him from getting to the place I want him to go. I swat at whatever it is, purring his name…
A loud bang catches me off guard and with a gasp I bolt upright, the sound of my laptop hitting the floor my sign that I fell asleep—hard. I blink, trying to make sense of where I am in this dark room. Shit. My laptop will not survive a fall from the top bunk. Except, since when is my mattress made of leather?
I’m still blinking, unable to see since my glasses fell off. I start to paw for them, but then they’re handed to me. I brush against the hand that’s giving them to me, and I freeze.
I’m not in my bed. I’m not in Mason’s bed, either. That was my dream. No, I’m in one of Mason’s secret library chairs… and as I finally pull on my glasses, I can see that he’s staring right at me, the smuggest of smiles on his face.
“Shh,” he says, holding a finger up to his lips. “The baby’s sleeping.”
“You scared the shit out of me!” I snap at him, trying to free myself from my prison of blankets as I scramble to get up out of the chair.
“Ah, yes,” he says. “I can see how this would be scary for you. Taking a nap in my private library.”
I glare at him, grabbing my laptop. Thankfully, it’s taken much harder falls before. I scrounge around for my book bag, kicking off blankets.
“You told me you weren’t going to snoop,” he chides. “You said it was in the contract. And what if Velvet had needed you while you were napping?”
I blush, finally fishing my book bag out from under a side table so that I can stuff my laptop inside. “Yeah, well. None of this is actually real, you know. This is all bullshit.”
With my bag in hand, I turn for the library door. I need to escape it as much as I need to escape Mason. It’s making me lose my head with the intoxicating smells of old book pages and leather and… him.