Elsie and I, along with ninety percent of the adult clientele, watch him and his very tight, very nice jeans as he wanders through the Book Nook. We’re all waiting with bated breath for him to walk back to story time, where he’ll inevitably find his spouse, wrap his thick, strong arms around her dainty waist, and kiss her forehead.

Yeah.

He’s definitely a forehead kisser.

But instead, he walks to the front of the store, where sweet Dani is staring at him with hearts in her eyes and her jaw on the desk. We’re very professional at the Book Nook. I’m too far away to hear their conversation, and when Dani leans around him to point at me, I all but panic.

“Did Dani just point at me?” I ask Elsie. I’m frozen in place, watching the scene in front of me, where the man of my dreams slowly looks over his shoulder and we lock eyes. “Is he looking at me?”

Listen, I live in Colorado. I’ve been grappling with the aftereffects of grief and a lifetime of daddy issues. Would it be accurate to assume that I have occasionally taken advantage of the healing powers of THC? Yes. Did I partake this morning? No. Or at least I don’t think so? I’ve never been so high that I hallucinated, but it feels like the only explanation for the way his lips pull into a wide smile and he starts walking my way.

“Oh my god. He’s coming over.” Elsie breathes out and—unless we’re having a shared trip—confirms that I’m not imagining things.

My brain finally kicks into gear again and I spin to face Elsie. I step in front of her, but she completely ignores me and the wiggling child on her hip.

“Elsie!” I whisper-shout to get her attention, but she looks right through me.

“Holy freaking cow,” she whispers. “He’s even hotter than I thought. Wow.”

It takes every bit of restraint I have—and I don’t have much—to not turn and gawk with my best friend. Something that gets even harder as her eyes go soft and dreamy and a goofy-ass smile pulls on the corners of her mouth.

“Hi,” she says.

“Hi,” a deep voice returns, very, very, very close to my ear.

Chill bumps race down my arms and something weird happens to my stomach. My brain and my body are not on the same page. I might talk a big game when it comes to flirting and men and whatnot, but I’m panicking here!

I don’t want to turn around. I’m worried I’ll be blinded by his beauty this close-up. I feel like he should come with those little glasses we had to wear to see the solar eclipse or something. But the manners hammered into me growing up kick in, forcing my feet into gear.