stopped in the center of the room. A massive light fixture designed to resemble the solar system dominated the ceiling. The hushed rumble of two male voices came from one of the reading nooks. I crossed the room, paused at the built-in aquarium, and inspected the fish. Afton halted beside me.
“This is great,” I whispered, not wanting to disturb whoever was in there with us. “Fish and books. What’s not to love?” Spotting a sign referencing classic books, I searched the shelves for my all-time favorite novel.
The male voices stopped and there was movement on the other side of the bookcase. I paused to listen, and when the voices started up again, I continued my hunt.
Warmth rushed over me when I found The Secret Garden. With its aged green cover, it was the same edition I remembered reading as a young girl. The illustrations inside were beautiful, and I just had to show them to Afton. Coming around the corner of the case, a little too fast for being in a library, I bumped into a guy dressed in leather biker gear. My book and notebook fell and slapped against the floor.
“Oh, I’m so sorry—” I lost all train of thought at the sight of him. He was gorgeous with tousled brown hair and dark eyes. Tall. He flashed me a crooked smile, a hint of dimples forming in his cheeks, before bending over and picking up my forgotten book.
He held the book out to me. “Mistress Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow?” He’d quoted a verse from The Secret Garden with a sexy accent that tickled my ears.
I stood there like an idiot, my heart pounding hard against my chest, unable to think of a response. The fact that he had read the book and could recite a line from it stunned me. And impressed me.
Say something. Anything.
“Good read there,” he said when it was obvious I wasn’t going to speak. He winked and nodded to a guy behind him before ambling off. When he reached the end of the row, he paused and glanced back at me, flashing me another killer smile, and then he disappeared around the bookcase.
Tingles rose in my stomach. He looked back at me.
The guy following his Royal Hotness gave me a final appraisal before departing. His stringy blond hair hung over his large forehead. It looked like he hadn’t washed it in weeks, and there was probably an acne breeding ground under it. He grinned, and I broke eye contact with him, making for the nearest window.
Oh God, you’re so lame, Gia. You could have finished the quote or anything less tragic than not speaking at all. The response I would have said played in my head. With silver bells, and cockleshells, and marigolds all in a row. Why? Why hadn’t I said that?
The window overlooked the Granary Burying Grounds. I hugged my books to my chest and spoke to Afton’s reflection in the windowpane, listening to the guys’ boots retreating from the room, not daring to sneak a look. “I’ve been to that graveyard before. Mother Goose is buried there.”
She strained her neck forward to view the tombstones below.
I shifted to face her. “Did you see that guy? He was—he was—” I was still at a loss for words.
“Probably European by the sound of his accent,” she said, her eyes shifting over the tourists weaving around the gravestones below. “The taller one is delicious, though.”
“I know, and I just stood there. He talked to me, and I just stood there.”
“Well, maybe you’ll see him again.” Her outlook was always positive.
I sagged against the window frame. “I’d probably make a fool of myself again.”
“I don’t get the appeal,” she said, squinting out the window then straightening. “It’s just a bunch of old stones etched with names you can hardly read.”
I feigned a shocked expression. “It’s history. Sam Adams and Paul Revere are buried there.”
“Don’t you get enough history in school?”
“Never. I could walk in it all day.”
We sat at one of the tables, flipping through picture books. It was Afton’s favorite thing to do at libraries. The illustrations inspired her art.
Afton sighed. “I’m hungry. Let’s get some lunch.”
We grabbed our bags from the coat check and texted Nick. He told us to go without him. Afton and I gave each other puzzled looks. He never refused food. We downed lemonades and pretzels on the Common then returned to the Athenæum. I sent a message to Nick that we were back before