“Quarter past ten.” I stare straight at the TV screen as if I find the movie credits riveting. I’m waiting for him to decide what’s next.

“I’ve got to be in the gym early tomorrow. I should get going,” he says as he holds his hand out to me.

I take it and he pulls me up into him. He tilts his head to the side and my eyes are instantly drawn to his lips. He’s going to kiss me again. The corner of my mouth curves up in a nervous smile. Our chests are touching, an almost imperceptible graze. The connection is electrifying.

He hasn’t let go of my hand.

I’m both petrified and thrilled. He parts his mouth and glides his tongue across his lips. I want to feel those lips on mine again. I wait for it, seconds dragging out into eternity. But he doesn’t move. I drag my eyes up to meet his. They are sparkling with a mischievous challenge as he stares down at me. He’s daring me to do something.

Kiss him!

I want to. More than anything. But I can’t.

Not cute. Not tall. Not confident. Not brave. Not sexy. Not friendly.

Not happy.

“Okay then,” he says finally with a light chuckle. He drops my hand and steps away, leaving a pang of regret deep in my chest. That was a test and I failed. He grabs his bag off the ground and walks toward the door. I follow after him.

“Guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” Halfway out of the door, he pauses for a minute, those deep blue eyes studying me. His examination makes me feel stark naked.

Nope, fully clothed.

I look down at myself, suddenly scared I have something in my teeth or toilet paper stuck to my shoe, or something else embarrassing and oh-so-Elizabeth. I use one hand to smooth down my wrinkled shirt and the other to pat down the flyaways in my hair. Yep. I’m a mess.

“What?” I ask, exasperated.

He licks his lips before plastering on a familiar smirk.

That smirk. Be still, my heart.

“Of all the libraries, in all the universities, in all the world, I’m glad you walked into mine,” he says before turning and walking away.

A wide, goofy smile spreads across my face. Warmth flushes over my entire body as I watch him strut down the long hallway to the elevators. I want to go after him, jump into his arms. Kiss him. Instead, I shut the door before he catches me ogling him. I manage to close it just before I swoon.

I literally swoon.

A tingle rushes down every one of my limbs before my body goes limp. I fall back against the door with a dramatic sigh. Sliding down to the ground, I let out a delirious madwoman cackle. I press my hands to my cheeks and they’re on fire.

You better watch yourself! This isn’t love. This is business.

My heart sinks at the realization. This feeling isn’t real. This connection can’t be real. I barely know him. And we’re polar opposites. I let myself get caught up in the moment. The feel of his arms. His lips. His words. His everything.