Your presence is overwhelming
“Looking for something?”
His voice was low and rough, right behind her.
Emma’s fingers tightened on the book. She turned around. He was standing too close dark hair wet from the rain, black tattoos trailing down his forearms where his sleeves were rolled up. He didn’t smile. He just stared at her like he already knew what she was thinking.
Her mouth went dry.
“I was just...”
“You’ve been standing here for four minutes,” he said. “Staring at the same shelf. Not reading. Not moving.” His eyes dropped to her lips, then lower. “You look like you’re waiting for something.”
A wave of heat rushed over her.
The bookstore was quiet. Rain tapped against the windows, and the clerk was busy with another customer. It felt like they were the only two people in the room.
Emma knew she should step back, make an excuse, and leave. Instead, she stayed right where she was, her heart hammering in her chest.
“I don’t know what you mean,” she said.
He tilted his head. “Yes you do.”
The words hit her right in the stomach. She hated how fast her body responded to him. Eight months of absolute quiet, and one stranger’s voice had her heart racing.
He took the book from her hands, checked the cover, and slid it back onto the shelf. His fingers brushed against hers. The touch was brief, but a spark shot straight through her.
“I’m Liam,” he said.
“Emma.”
“Emma.” He said her name slowly, like he was testing it out. “You come here a lot?”
“Only when I can’t stand my own apartment.”
Something shifted in his eyes. Not pity, but recognition.
“That makes two of us.”
He didn't move away. She could smell the cold rain on his clothes and the warm skin underneath.
“You’re staring,” he said quietly.
“So are you.”
A corner of his mouth almost lifted. “I like what I see.”
The blunt honesty made her face burn, but it also made her stomach flip. No one had looked at her like this in months. No one had spoken to her with that kind of quiet confidence.
Liam looked her up and down slow and deliberate before meeting her eyes again.
“Store closes in twenty minutes,” he said.
She knew what he was offering.
Emma’s stomach twisted with a mix of guilt and desire. She pictured her quiet, empty bedroom and the cold sheets. She was so tired of feeling invisible.
She looked at his hands, his tattoos, and the solid weight of him standing there.
“Okay,” she said.
Liam nodded once. No cocky smile, no victory lap. Just a simple acceptance.
“I’ll wait outside.”
He brushed past her on his way to the door. The heat of his body lingered in the narrow aisle.
Emma stood frozen between the shelves, breath short, her mind racing with what was about to happen.
Twenty minutes.
She could still walk out the back door, go home, and pretend this never happened. She could stay safe and lonely.
Or she could walk out those front doors and see where the night took her.
Emma turned toward the entrance.
She already knew what she was going to do.
