Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 94457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
“That’s the problem. I do want to do this. I want to do this more than anything.” The air in my chest rattles, and I’m afraid of what will happen next.
I squeeze my eyes shut, preparing to sink deep into my mind, when suddenly, Quinton’s grip on my throat disappears.
“What do you think you’re doing?” A young, feminine voice meets my ears. I blink my eyes open, turning in the direction of the voice.
About twenty feet away stands a woman with bright blue hair, black-rimmed glasses, and a scowl on her face that could rival Quinton’s. She appears young but not young enough to be a student. She adjusts her cardigan and continues staring at us.
“Well…” She taps her foot on the floor impatiently, awaiting an answer. My tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth, so even if I wanted to say something, I couldn’t.
“We were just talking, weren’t we…?” Quinton’s jaw clenches at the effort it takes for him to expel the words.
“I’m sure that’s what you were doing. Why don’t you get out of here, and I’ll pretend I didn’t see or hear the entire conversation?”
Leaning into my ear, he whispers, “You got lucky this time. Next time, you’re mine.”
My throat constricts, and I don’t dare look at Quinton. I’m afraid of what I’ll see if I do. His searing body heat fades as he takes a step back and then another, putting enough space between us to where I can finally breathe. The heady scent of man and woodsy cologne drift away, and I continue staring at the woman, my heart thumping against my ribs, threatening to break free.
Quinton’s footsteps disappear into the distance, and I let out a heaving breath, nearly collapsing against the wall. I wasn’t even aware of how tightly strung every inch of my body was until now. I guess fear will do that to you.
“Come, let’s go into the library. I’ll make you a cup of hot cocoa, and you can calm down a little,” the young woman offers.
“Who are you?” I ask, my voice cracking.
“I’m Brittney, the librarian.” The library. Just the thought has me calming down slightly. I push off the wall, my limbs shaking as I take a hesitant step toward her. I don’t want to call her my savior, but in a way, she saved me. “You look a little shaken up,” she states the obvious, and I turn to look over my shoulder to see if Quinton actually left or if he’s hiding somewhere behind me.
I want to go into the library and wait it out a bit before trying to head back to my dorm, but not one single teacher or student has been kind to me since I arrived. This woman, even if she is the librarian, could be just as mean and hateful as the others. This could be a trick, or it couldn’t.
I don’t have a lot of options, but I do know whatever this teacher could do to me is small in comparison to what would happen if Q got a hold of me right now. I start walking toward her, and the closer I get, the more I realize she is standing in the archway of two massive double doors. Once I’m close enough, she whirls around on her heels and walks into the library.
Following her, I stop at the entrance to stare inside. As soon as I do, I realize that this is one of the tunnels that connects to the castle part. The ceilings are much higher and bowed, giving the space an airy feel. Numerous glass windows on the right side of the room let ample light in. My feet move all on their own, and I enter deeper into the room. The space is warm and inviting, with hanging chandeliers that I’m sure look magical at night.
I don’t want to admit how much I already love this place.
Tables are situated on both sides of the room while rows upon rows of books lie ahead of me. In the center of the room is the circulation desk, where Brittney, the librarian, is headed. A bookworm’s heaven, that’s what this library is. The tiniest of smiles tugs at my lips, but I sink my teeth into my lip to stop the smile from showing.
Like a timid mouse, I trail her. She walks behind the circulation desk, and I approach slowly, half expecting her to start laughing in my face or something.
“There’s a sitting area over there. Go sit, and I’ll bring you your drink.”
“You don’t have to.” I try to make my voice sound strong, but it comes out wispy.
She lifts one of her dark brows and pins me with a do-as-you’re-told stare. I decide to listen and walk around the desk and into the open space. There are leather couches and chairs, and the space is boxed in with bookshelves, making it the perfect place to sit and read your favorite book. I sink down onto one of the leather couches; the smell of books, leather, and chocolate permeates the air.