Page 15 of Making It Up

“Okay.”

She sounds perfectly content.

“Are you all right if I turn my flashlight off? I want to save my battery.”

“Sure. I don’t mind the dark.”

I kill the light and settle back in the chair.

I assume it’s my imagination but I swear I can hear her hair moving against the pillow and can smell her body spray even from here. That whole ‘lose one sense and the others become heightened’ thing, I guess.

Or you’re becoming a little obsessed with her.

Probably because she’s completely off-limits and you’re a not-quite-fully-reformed rule-breaker.

But I’m really fucking trying to be fully reformed.

Making other people follow rules helps. Kind of.

I try not to dwell on the rules I think are stupid and a waste of time. Rules are mostly good. We need rules. Rules keep things civilized.

It’s completely quiet in the basement for nearly two minutes besides the sound of Rex moving in his aquarium.

Two minutes doesn’t sound like a long time until you’re sitting in a dark room with no sound or distraction.

It’s a really long time.

“Did you know that Blanding turtles are endangered? “Mia eventually asks.

I give a soft chuckle. “Um, yes, I know that.”

She laughs too and the sound is even more…something…in the dark. Something I shouldn’t put a word to.

“Yeah, I guess you would know that, wouldn’t you?”

I just smile.

“So how does Tim have one as a pet?” she asks. “And with a conservation officer’s knowledge?”

She not only knows turtle facts, but she can identify the various types? Be still my Game and Parks officer’s heart.

“I found Rex injured by the road. Tim has done a lot of wildlife rehabilitation, so I brought him over here. He didn’t think Rex could make it if he was re-released, so he became a part of the family.”

“Ah,” Mia says. “That’s really nice.”

We lapse into a long silence again. It’s not completely awkward, but I’m very aware of her and that’s not completely comfortable either.

“What kind of music do you like?” I ask, opening my music app. It will use my battery too, but I don’t care now.

“Whatever,” she says. “I like all kinds.”

Of course, the gorgeous, bright, easy-going librarian likes all kinds of music.

I choose a general contemporary country channel and lower the volume so it’s background noise.

“So,” she says.

I ready myself for a fun fact about rabbits. That I probably already know.