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I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that clung to me. I glanced at Damien, who was focused on the road, jaw set.
“Are you okay?” he asked, breaking the silence.
“I’m fine,” I replied, though the words felt hollow. “Just a little freaked out.”
He shot me a sidelong glance. “You looked ready to bolt when you called.”
“Let’s just say I didn’t feel safe,” I shot back, crossing my arms.
“Right. Because hiding in the kitchen with a knife was such a brilliant plan,” he teased, but there was a serious undertone.
“Better than running around like a headless chicken,” I retorted, smirking.
When we arrived at his apartment, I dropped my bag near the couch. “What if someone is really watching me?”
Damien leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “Let’s not panic. How about we distract you?”
“Sure, because that’s always worked,” I said dryly.
He grinned. “Let’s go book shopping.”
“Book shopping?” I raised an eyebrow. “And you think that’s going to help?”
“Who said we’re actually going outside?” He smirked, pulling out his phone. “I’ll have the store deliver.”
“Right, because that sounds totally safe,” I replied, half-joking. “What if they’re watching while we’re ordering?”
“Blake,” he said, holding back a laugh, “you’ll be fine. We can stay right here and have them bring the books to us.”
“Fine, but if someone shows up at the door with a mask, I’m blaming you,” I said, rolling my eyes.
Damien chuckled as he placed the order. “Trust me, it’ll be worth it. You can’t have too many books.”
Twenty minutes later, there was a knock at the door. I jumped, glancing at Damien, who was already moving toward it.
“Relax, it’s just the delivery,” he assured me, opening the door to reveal a shopkeeper carrying a stack of boxes.
“Delivery for a Damien Cross?” the shopkeeper said, smiling.
Damien grinned and stepped aside. “That’s me. Come on in.”
The shopkeeper entered, setting the boxes down in the living room. I stared in disbelief as he began unpacking them, revealing a mountain of books. There had to be at least hundreds, each one more enticing than the last.
“What the hell?” I said, eyes wide. “Did you seriously order half the store?”
“Only the essentials,” he said casually, his grin growing wider. “I figured you could use a good selection.”
I walked over, fingers trailing over the spines of the books. “This is... impressive. You really went all out.”
“Only the best for my favorite pain in the ass,” he replied, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
As the shopkeeper finished unpacking, our living room transformed into a makeshift library. The shelves were overflowing with everything from thrillers to romance, fantasy to non-fiction.
“Okay, now this is way too much,” I said, shaking my head. “You didn’t have to do all this.”
“Sure I did,” he said, stepping closer. “You love reading, and you need something to keep your mind off things. Plus, it’ll give us something to do.”
“Like what? Get lost in a sea of books?” I challenged, already feeling the excitement bubble up.
“Exactly,” he replied, smirking. “Now we can browse at our leisure. Let’s sit.”
We plopped down in the middle of the room, surrounded by stacks of books. I looked around, overwhelmed and a little giddy. “This is insane. I’m not sure where to start.”
“Why not start with something you’ve been meaning to read?” he suggested, rummaging through a nearby pile.
“Or something that looks like it might have a terrible ending,” I quipped, pulling out a romance novel and waving it in the air.
He chuckled. “That’s exactly why I knew you’d love this. You can pick whatever you want.”
I opened the book, pretending to be engrossed. “Just so you know, I’m reading this one first, and you’ll have to deal with my sappy commentary.”
“Can’t wait for that,” he replied, feigning enthusiasm. “But seriously, I’m glad you’re here.”
We sat surrounded by books, the atmosphere shifting from tense to relaxed. The initial unease faded, replaced by laughter and playful banter as we thumbed through titles, sharing our thoughts on everything from plots to cover art.
“This one looks interesting,” I said, holding up a thriller. “What do you think?”
“Looks like a solid page-turner. I like the suspense already,” he replied, leaning closer to examine it. “But are you sure you can handle the tension?”
“Please,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I thrive on tension.”
“Right, because hiding with a knife was such a good strategy,” he teased, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
As we settled deeper into the piles of books, the earlier fear began to dissipate. I felt lighter, the connection between us shifting subtly but noticeably. Maybe, just maybe, this unexpected evening would turn into something more than just a distraction.
