Chapter One
Anna
“Nick Jenson?”
I stiffen and slouch a little bit lower into my seat as I listen in on a conversation that I know I probably shouldn’t be overhearing. Elsa, my design professor, and the college librarian, Ms. Vincent, are deep in conversation, huddled in the row behind the reference books. Dying to know why they’re talking about Nick, I quietly rise from my seat and busy myself in the row directly behind them, crouching down, so they don’t see me.
“Yes,” Ms. Vincent says, her voice hushed and full of excitement. “Mallory Henderson saw his profile on a dating site. She went out with him, and…” She giggles, dropping her voice a few notches lower. “Well, do I really need to say it?”
“When you begin by telling me that Mallory ended up in hospital, yes, you do need to spell it out for me,” Elsa retorts, becoming increasingly frustrated. “What happened?”
For the love of God, just spit it out. I’m getting sore knees from couching down, but I have to know what happened because this isn’t the first conversation I’d overheard about Nick. It seems everyone is talking about him.
Nick is the thirty-something-year-old single dad of two young kids, who’s lived next door to me for the last seven years. His wife died two years ago of a rare form of bone cancer, leaving him to raise eight-year-old Milly and ten-year-old Max alone. He’s a great dad, and full credit to him, those two kids are amazing little humans.
I knew that he had recently started dating again, and to be honest, I admired his ability to put himself out there again. The problem was, women talk. A lot. So, after one or two first dates that progressed a little further than most respectable women would usually allow, suddenly Nick Jensen is hot property.I turn my attention back to the conversation in front of me, hoping I hadn’t missed the explanation of what the hell went wrong. You’d think I was twelve rather than twenty-two, given how I was hanging off every word of a private conversation.
“He was too big,” Ms. Vincent hisses. “She said it was like squeezing into a pair of jeans that were two sizes too small. They were just about to give up when…” I jerk my head up and peek through the shelves, just in time to see her shred a piece of paper in half. I cringe and hold my legs together a little tighter. Fuck, that’s gotta hurt. “Ten stiches later, and she still wants to go out with him again.”
“Hell, so I do,” Elsa giggles. She glances at her phone. “Shit. I’ve got a night class starting in five minutes.”
My eyes widen as I push myself down farther and lean against the aisle, not wanting either of them to notice me as they walk past. I feel the shelf of books towering above me beginning to tilt, but I’m too slow to react. I let out a half-hearted cry as the whole thing tumbles over, burying me under a mountain of heavy textbooks.
“Anna? Are you okay?” I cringe as I make out the voice of Elsa. She takes my hand and yanks me out. I flush and mumble a ‘thank you,’ then attempt to fix the shelf, which doesn’t appear to have the ability to stand upright anymore.
“Leave that, for God’s sake,” Ms. Vincent says. “The important thing is whether or not you’re okay.”
“I’m fine,” I mumble. Except for my pride.
“What happened?” she asks, shaking her head. “What were you even doing down there?” Her expression turns suspicious and I freeze, my heart pounding. God, she knows I was listening.
“Uh, someone had shoved a book under the aisle, and I was trying to get it out,” I squeak. “When I tried to reach it, the thing tilted and collapsed on me.” I don’t know whether to be impressed or embarrassed at my ability to be able to lie on command. “Seriously, I’m fine. Just a little bit embarrassed.”
Thank God it was late because the library had been nearly empty. With any luck, there were no witnesses besides Ms. Vincent, Elsa and the guy sitting in the far corner of the library. I frown, realizing that I know him. More than I wanted to, actually, after that day last summer when I was pretty sure he flashed himself at me.
“Nonsense. Don’t worry about it. It’s easily fixed,” she assures me. “I’ll have my son Nathan fix it up.” She turns around and waves. It takes me a second to realize that she’s waving at the creepy guy. He waves back, but his eyes are on me. I cringe and turn back to the mess in front of me, not wanting to encourage him. “You go home and relax. Have a bath or something. We’ll tidy this mess up.”