Page 183 of Lilah

"You're right," he nods.

"I've got a lot of books to put away, I bet," I smile and he nods.

"I've put away some but I'm not as quick as you. I don't have it all memorized," he smiles back.

"I'm here to rescue you," I give him one last hug before going and starting on the huge stacks of books that I need to put away.

The thing is, Mr. Terrip's bookstore isn't just a bookstore. It's also like a library. People can rent books. Kind of like a library.

So there's always things to put away. Also considering this place is the only bookstore/library around for the next thirty or so miles.

I feel in the zone after getting the tenth book into its correct place. And then, I go on for hours. After finishing putting all the books away, I see a box of new ones.

I check my phone that I left on the table and see quite of few texts from Grey on the subject of my escape.

From the time of his last text, I've got about ten minutes to begin putting the new books away and to look as innocent as I can while I'm at it. And if he's mad, I'll jump off the ladder and see what happens.

I get to work. Sure enough, ten minutes later, I hear him come in. Ihearhim. That's not a great sign.

I consider flashing him to get his mind off the subject but I'm right in front of the windows at the moment.

The second I see his tattooed hand wrap around my waist and yank me off my little ladder, I know that I've tickled the beast. And he didn't like it the tickle.

"What in the world are you doing here?" I gasp innocently and he glares down at me.

"Thanks for telling me where the fuck you were," he nearly growls.

"Well, I was but I didn't want to bother you," I smile.

"You never fucking bother me, you know that," he tenses his jaw.

"I know that youtellme that, I don't know that it's true," I chide.

"Well how much more do you want me to say it?" he questions, "You don't bother me. Other motherfuckers do. You don't. End of it."

"Jesus would wash your mouth out if provided a bar of soap," I nod. He rolls those beautiful dark eyes.

"How do you feel?" he cups my face, dragging his eyes over my cheekbone.

"I feel like I just got out of prison," I smile. I walk away from him, chuckling at the unhappy look on his face.

"Jacked and free," I smile.

I grip onto the box of all the new books and I call to my muscles to try and pull it out of the supply room.

Maybe not as jacked as I want to be.

It moves a couple of inches. I turn back to see Grey watching me. Not helping, just watching.

"Don't look at me. I'm not helping you," he grumbles childishly.

"You're mean."

"Mhm."

I bend down and an idea pops into my head. I evilly laugh internally. I begin pushing the box, it still doesn't move because it's a crackhead box. I pull on my acting britches.

"Ow, my back," I hiss, placing my hand on my back lightly. Was that too much monotone in that sentence? Maybe I'm not the greatest actor.