Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 34760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 174(@200wpm)___ 139(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 174(@200wpm)___ 139(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
"Doesn't he live in the middle of nowhere?" Jazz asks, stepping out from behind a shelf with her arms loaded down with books, her nose scrunched.
"Tepusquet Canyon," I murmur, sliding the strap of my bag over my arm. It's as close as you can get to the middle of nowhere in Santa Maria, but Mr. Johnson was gored by a bull last year and broke his spine. He's been bedbound ever since. He was a regular at the library until his accident. I try to take him new books every few weeks to help keep his spirits up.
Jazz glances toward the windows, her blue eyes narrowed in assessment. "You better hurry," she says. "That storm doesn't look like it came to play."
"I'll be fine," I promise, waving her off. Tepusquet Canyon is a good half an hour from town, with no cell service in places, but I've lived in Santa Maria my whole life. I know every nook, cranny, and backroad through ranch country.
Jazz just shrugs like it's my funeral. She's from Tennessee, home of tornadoes and weather hellbent on murdering everyone. It's not that bad here. "Don't die," she advises. "I still need your help hunting down River Jamison so he can speak at Dirty Book Club."
I laugh in response, heading for the door. "I'm not helping you stalk the man, Jazz."
"Yes, you are!" she shouts as I wrestle the door open, fighting a gust of wind.
My hair immediately whips into my face, blinding me. I battle it back, duck my head, and make a mad dash for my car. The storm is still a little ways off, but the scent of rain is strong in the air. So is that electrified tension—you know, the kind that says the storm is probably going to get ugly.
"Don't fail me now," I whisper, patting the dashboard of my ancient Civic before cranking the engine. Truth is, I needed a new car two years ago, but I keep putting it off. There are a million things I'd rather do than go car shopping. Actually, I'd rather do basically anything than go car shopping. I hate car shopping. It's far easier to drive mine until the wheels fall off…which might actually happen if I don't stop stalling and get a new one soon. Something important and more expensive than the car has been cracked for the last four months.
I plug my phone into the charger, latch my seatbelt, and then head out, smiling when Midnight Mayhem immediately begins blasting from the speakers. I've been listening to their last album on repeat ever since they announced that a new one will be coming later this year.
When I was younger, I used to swear I was going to marry Ash Kilborne, their lead singer, one day. The man has been gorgeous for as long as he's been famous. And I've been a sucker for his blue eyes and playful smirk for just as long.
He's still my fantasy, but I'm older and wise enough to know a fantasy is all he'll ever be at this point. I'm a twenty-seven-year-old nerdy librarian. He's a literal rock god with legions of fans. We are not the same. Hell, we've never been the same.
Even if we were in the same room, he wouldn't notice me. He's used to being surrounded by beautiful people. I'm not an ugly duckling, but I'm not a supermodel, either. I'm just…normal. Quiet. Boring. The most interesting thing about me is the books on my shelves and the sheer number of movie quotes I've memorized.
He has Grammys, platinum albums, and magazine spreads.
I still dream about him sometimes, though. That secret will absolutely die with me. At this rate…I'm probably going to die alone, anyway. The only man in town even remotely interested in me is, well, old enough to be my grandfather, honestly.
Mr. Dennison is nice enough, but I'm just not into octogenarians. No, thank you.
But men like the naughty librarian fantasy. They aren't really into the reality when the reality is shy, plus-size, and relates to books more than people.
Most of the time, I can pretend it doesn't bother me that my dating life is non-existent. But it's been harder to do lately. Lilah, Sarah, and Olive have all found love. I'm ecstatic for them. I guess seeing them happy just reminds me how…lonely my own life is sometimes. I wake up alone, go to sleep alone, live alone.
Maybe I need Jazz's possessed vibrator.
"Ha!" I mutter, taking the turn leading out of town. "A possessed vibrator and a trip to the ER is exactly what I need in my life, said no one ever."
I need something, though. Spice, variety…a single night to pretend I'm not just the boring town librarian. At this point, I'd take anything but another night of watching TV in my faded PJs until I fall asleep, as alone as ever.