The library was my favorite place to hang out. It was a quiet space with open tables, with the smell of old books and pot permeating the air. It had been three days since my weekend with Oakley, and I was still reeling from what he had told me. As an only child, I’d always been mystified by the idea of having a sibling. I couldn’t imagine the pain of losing one.

“This seat taken?”

I looked up from the paper I was writing and smiled. Oakley looked like he’d just gotten out of the shower. His hair was damp, and his face looked freshly shaven. And don’t even get me started on the gray sweatpants he was rocking. If I were brave enough to stare, I could probably see the outline of his team captain.

I had checked his schedule this morning—not because I was a creepy stalker, but because it was my job to know what he was doing at all times—and remembered that practice was cut short this afternoon for some sort of annual team building ritual that happened prior to the first home game.

“Have a seat,” I replied, gesturing to the chair across from me. Oakley dropped a Caesar salad in a plastic container in front of me, along with an apple, fork, and water bottle.

“I brought you dinner because I need your help tonight.”

My stomach growled at the sight of the food, and my love button growled at the sight of Oakley’s ass as he passed by me to sit down. I wanted to tear into the salad and hoover it into my mouth as fast as I possibly could. Instead, I politely thanked Oakley for bringing me something that I would actually eat and opened it with dainty ladylike manners.

I always forgot just how hungry I was until I saw food. Or smelled food. Or heard someone talking about food. After I had taken enough nibbles to be slightly satiated, I remembered that Oakley had just said he needed my help. What did he do now? Or what was he planning to do that he knew he needed my help in advance? I looked over at Oakley and asked with a slight panic in my voice, “What do you need my help with?”

Oakley flashed me a winning grin, complete with adorable dimples, and said, “It’s too quiet in here. The library kind of gives me the creeps. When you’re done eating, let’s take a walk and talk about it.”

“Of course places of knowledge and learning give you the creeps,” I teased, then packed what was left of the salad in my bag and stood up. A walk outside sounded nice, actually.