I nudged him with my knee and he casually put his hand on my leg, curling it into him. ‘I think someone likes my legs.’
He caressed my skin, almost absentmindedly. ‘They’re great legs, babe.’ He reached for the notepad at his side. ‘This is quickly deteriorating.’
‘The movie?’
‘Aye, what else?’ he murmured, scribbling something down on the paper. ‘Any witty comments, O Sidekick?’
Musing, I stared at the screen. ‘There’s a crack about erectile dysfunction in here somewhere.’
He huffed in amusement. ‘And how’s that?’
‘Well, the plot and songs start off well, each one better than the next, until you hit midway through and realize it’s not going anywhere. This proves true toward the final half, where the plot worsens, the songs make your ears bleed, and all the anticipation just –’ I raised a hand and let it flop to make my point.
‘E-rec-tile dys-func-tion,’ Nate said slowly as he scribbled it down. He glanced back up at me with a smile. ‘Anything else?’
13
After we spent the rest of the evening joking around like old times, I felt much lighter when Nate left for home. Even though we made no plans to meet up again the next evening, I didn’t find myself worried sick over it. Nate seemed fine. I knew I was fine. It was all fine.
Any niggling concerns were shoved forcefully back into my pit of denial.
At work the next day my colleagues commented on my good mood, and not just because I’d been in an uncharacteristically bad mood the day before, but because I was in a gooood mood.
‘If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she got laid,’ Ronan joked as he stood beside me at the help desk.
Thankfully, the wide-eyed look I got on my face was attributed to the fact that he’d made his crack in front of a student, who was now laughing his ass off.
‘Funny,’ I hissed at Ronan when the student walked away.
‘It was, actually.’ Angus chuckled behind us.
‘You’ – I pointed at him – ‘are a mean boss.’
He laughed harder. ‘Oh, come on, Liv. You’re walking around as though everyone is farting roses and pissing champagne. What’s up?’
I blinked rapidly at his observation, making what I’m sure was a ‘what the f**k?’ face. ‘Farting what and pissing what?’ I looked over at my colleague Jill. ‘Are you listening to this?’
She shrugged, smiling. ‘He has a point. You’ve been telling every student to have a “freakin” awesome day!’ all morning.’
‘So? I’m being polite.’
‘I’m just saying …’ Ronan eyed me carefully. ‘Yesterday you were in a terrible mood and today you’re on some kind of natural high.’
Blowing them off, I turned away and rested my chin on my palm. ‘I had a bit of a falling-out with a friend Monday night,’ I lied, but attempted to keep my story as close to the truth as possible. ‘We sorted out our misunderstanding. Now I’m in a good mood.’
‘Well, what a bloody boring explanation that was,’ Angus said teasingly. ‘You’re a librarian, Liv. You’re surrounded by books and material for a good yarn. And you stick to the truth.’ He tutted. ‘Have I taught you nothing?’
I smiled sweetly. ‘I’m quickly learning how to become a drama queen.’
‘Well, that’s something, I suppose. I’ll be in my office, then, where in five minutes a dashing stranger who looks an awful lot like Ryan Gosling will shackle me to my desk and do completely inappropriate and naughty things to me for the next two hours.’ Angus arched an eyebrow at me. ‘Now didn’t that sound better than “I’ll be writing this month’s rota.” ’
I laughed. ‘Point taken.’ I heaved a contrite sigh. ‘Well, if you must know, Monday night I had wild, amazing sex with this hot guy but shit got weird and I was in a really bad mood about it but he surprised me by appearing in my apartment last night where we had more hot wild monkey sex before we snuggled up and watched a movie. Hence my good mood today.’
All three of them looked at me incredulously and then Angus made a face. ‘My Ryan Gosling story was far better.’
I grinned and turned to serve the student approaching my desk, Nate and my secret still … well, a delicious secret.
Later that day I was still in a fantastic mood and more than happy to see my dad standing outside my building with a shopping bag in hand. As soon as I reached him, he bent his massive frame so he could press a kiss to my cheek.
‘Hi, baby girl. Hope you don’t mind’ – he lifted the bag – ‘I brought some food over. Thought I could cook you dinner.’
I unlocked the building door and let us in. ‘Of course I don’t mind. It’s great to see you.’
Once we were inside, Dad immediately set about cooking and soon my apartment smelled like home. Like old times, we chopped vegetables together and I stirred the sauce while Dad boiled the pasta. You wouldn’t think there was an art to boiling pasta, but there was. Apparently. Just ask my dad.
Our conversation as we cooked was light. Dad told me about this new contract he’d just signed to work with Braden’s company again, while I told him about the sock I’d found in a returned book last week only to come upon the matching sock in the reserve section on Monday. They were dirty socks. I was all for weird. But there was weird, and then there was just weird. Angus had this theory that we had a crackpot Harry Potter fan in our midst and this person had somehow confused library assistants with enslaved house elves and by giving us socks thought he was doing a humanitarian act.
I thought it was a pretty good theory.
Better than my theory that some immature freshman was stashing his dirty socks everywhere, laughing his ass off while he filmed me finding them and then put the video up on YouTube.
We ate sitting on stools at my counter, and I was having a great time just chilling with my dad when our conversation took a more serious turn.
‘So you’ve been quiet lately?’ He eyed me, his eyes sharp, searching.
I shrugged, feeling guilty as hell about keeping my shenanigans with Nate from Dad. ‘I’ve just been busy.’
‘Did you know Joss and Braden are back from their honeymoon?’
Another pang of guilt. Wonderful. ‘No, I didn’t know that.’ I swirled a piece of pasta around my fork. I didn’t know that because I was too lost in my selfish sexual world with Nate Sawyer to give a shit what was going on outside of it. That would have to stop. ‘I should call Joss.’