While sheets of music were littered around our feet like fallen snow, he held the books in a neat stack on his palms. He looked so calm, as if it was no big deal that he’d plucked falling hardbacks from mid-air. His eyes, a light shade of hazel surrounded by a darker ring, met mine and his generous mouth parted to say something. Because my brain seemed to be fixating on weird little details, I got completely absorbed in the thin, dark moustache on his upper lip. Normally, I automatically assigned men with moustaches in the creeper category, but on him…it worked. He was older than me, again, not to creeper levels, but enough for me to appreciate it.

I reached up to touch his face, to trace the sharp curve of his cheek and the soft flesh of his lip with my thumb. I wanted to wallow in the sweet woodsy scent of him, to roll around with him, until I could smell nothing else for the rest of my life. This was the way a person was supposed to smell, all complex warmth sending rippling energy along my nerves. And the pulse of that energy spelled out the word “WANT” like Morse Code in my belly. For the first time, I wanted to take advantage of the seclusion of the library stacks, drag him to the farthest corner and see what was hidden under those maddeningly practical clothes.

He spoke, but I had no idea what he was saying. I was too distracted by the roar of blood in my ears and the flash of his supernaturally white fangs. Well, everything made a lot more sense now. It was easy to defy the laws of physics when you were a vampire.

The idiot teens were now fighting over who was responsible for knocking into the books, meaning more bumping against the shelf. Over the vampire’s shoulder—wow, those were some broad shoulders—the bookshelf continued to sway back and forth, picking up momentum as it pitched forward. I shot to my feet and planted my shoulder against the shelf with an “oof,” easing it back up as yet more books fell to the floor. Miraculously, those books didn’t hit us, either.

It took all of my considerable upper body strength to push the shelves back into position. He grinned at me as I gripped the shelving, preventing it from overcorrecting and knocking into the shelf behind it. The last thing I needed was for Mrs. Stubblefield to find me in a mess of Three Stooges-style domino-ed bookshelves. That would not help my whole workplace situation.

This time I was able to hear the vampire say, “You’re rather fast on your feet, aren’t you?”

“Well, you saved me from a concussion first. It’s only neighborly that I return the favor.” I smiled, surprising even myself. I was not the kind of girl that came up with clever lines on the fly.