I swallow. He’s pulling me toward him, or maybe I’m pulling myself—but either way, his hand is sliding upward until he’s gripping my elbow and we’re leaning together across the table and—

“We’re closing soon, dears.” A librarian gives us a smile before moving on.

My breath rushes out and I pull my hands into my lap. My entire right arm is tingling.

“Ready?” Ryan says, standing.

I nod, gripping the strap of my crossbody bag as I follow him out. He sticks his hands in his pockets, which is probably good. I clearly can’t be trusted around him. Even when I’m stone-cold sober.

—

When we pull up in front of my building, Ryan asks the Uber driver to wait while he walks me to the door.

“So, um…thanks for tonight,” I say. “It was fun.”

“Thanks for coming.” In the light of the streetlamp, his eyes are shadowed, and I can’t read his expression.

“You want to think about it overnight?” My voice squeaks on the last word. “My proposition?”

His eyebrows lift, and I laugh nervously. The point of this evening was not to get all giggly and touchy-feely with Ryan Lawson. It was to talk business.

“About convincing Xander that he needs us both as co-managers,” I say.

“No.”

The disappointment hits me like a rock. “Oh.”

“No, I don’t need to think about it overnight. I’m in.”

“Yeah? Amazing!” A balloon of excitement rises in my chest—and I pull out a mental thumbtack and pop it, especially after what just happened in the reading room. The more time I spend with Ryan, the more I realize how much I enjoy his company. Add that to the attraction we clearly both feel…and that’s a complication I cannot afford right now. “Um—there’s one more thing. You know what happened after your parents’ party?”

He leans toward me the slightest bit. “Yes.”

“I think…if we’re going to be working together…we should keep things professional.” I’m unable to maintain eye contact, so I stare at the buttons on his shirt, the fabric pulled tight across his chest. “I’m going to put my entire soul into convincing Xander we both deserve this. I know you feel the same way. It would be best if we didn’t let ourselves get…distracted.”

Maybe he hasn’t been distracted, but I sure have, and tonight isn’t going to help matters.

“Sure,” he says after a beat. His voice hovers in the air above me. Stiff. A little strained. “If that’s what you want.”

Then he says good night and turns to go, leaving me with a question: Is it what I want?

22

Ryan

Last night’s “date” with Josie was worthy of a gold star. If it was a book, I’d have given it a four point five, rounded up to five.