Page 26 of Revere

“Creepy.” She smiles. “I’m Lyla, by the way.”

“Patience.”

She smiles bigger, her eyes brightening. They’re a shade of purple I’ve never seen in eyes before.

“So you work here?” I don’t actually care, but she won’t stop staring at me. “Do you like it?”

“My husband, Sage, is one of the owners. I tag along when he’s working.”

Her husband?

I’m not used to marriage looking like it did when they kissed each other as if they meant it. My parents always treated it more like a political front than anything else. While my father occasionally tried to be affectionate with my mother, it was rare that she reciprocated. Oftentimes, she would quickly pull away, or even go as far as to cringe when he held her too long.

“Interesting.” Lyla leans back, watching me.

“What’s interesting?”

Her smile falls, and her eyebrows pinch. “I just get this sense about people. Wherever you went just now was dark.”

“I was thinking about my family.” I don’t know what compels me to tell her that, but I do. “Can you read minds or something?”

“Not exactly.” She laughs, but it’s soft. “Some people just carry around more than others. I’ve always had a sense for it.”

“I’m not carrying anything around,” I lie.

“Of course not.” She winks, and her agreement is more unsettling than if she’d argued with me.

“It was nice to meet you, Patience.” She smiles, pushing to stand when a couple of bikers walk in. “And don’t worry, it’ll be okay. Everything happens for a reason.”

She doesn’t know me or what I’ve been through. She’s a stranger who has no concept of what I’ve experienced. But for some reason, I want to believe her.

I want her to have actually seen my truth in my eyes, and I want her to be right that I’ll survive it.

9

A CHALLENGE

PATIENCE

So close,but so far.

My fingers skim the bottom ridge of the book’s spine, but it’s just out of reach. I strain, lifting onto my toes and trying again. The last thing I want to do is bother the librarian for a step stool when she was less than friendly when I walked into the library with a simple question to help guide my search.

Her sneer was aggressive to the point where I’d rather risk climbing the stacks and praying they don’t topple before going to her for a favor.

I’m considering just that when someone closes in behind me, and a hand reaches for the book I’ve been struggling to grab. My back immediately stiffens until I look over my shoulder and find Professor Gray looking down at me.

“You looked like you could use a little help.” His smirk makes my belly swim as he slips the book off the shelf and hands it to me.

“Thanks.” My cheeks are burning as I put another step between us. “I would have asked for a step stool.”

“Now you don’t have to.”

The longer he stares at me, the more I shift on my feet. And when I pull my lower lip between my teeth, his gaze falls to my mouth, which only makes me realize just how close he’s still standing to me.

“Can I help you with something, Professor?”

Why do my questions for him always come out so breathy? I swear this man sucks the air out of a room the second he steps into it. And right now, he’s watching me like he’s considering swallowing me whole.