Obsessed (Whiskey Run 3)

Once I’m finished taking notes, I go back to the counter where Violet is boxing up the cake and pouring fresh coffee into a to go cup. “I’ll put together a quote later today and drop it off to you.”

“Sounds good.” She smiles at me, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

I’m about to turn and go but stop, remembering one of the things I need to talk to Violet about. “Hey, I never did thank you. While I was in the service, I received all the food and treats from the Whiskey Run Homecoming Committee. I know you had something to do with that, and I just want you to know I really appreciate it. It meant a lot to have a taste of home while I was gone.”

But she shakes her head with a smirk on her face. “That wasn’t me.”

I stutter, embarrassed. “Oh, I just thought....”

“No, that was Sierra that did that. She sent the care packages out to you every week.”

“Sierra.” I say her name real slow. Sierra, the woman I was just rude to. She’s the one that sent me a package every week. The one thing I looked forward to each week. Not only did she put in cookies and treats, she put in writing paper and pens, but she also always wrote a very sweet note thanking me for my service and that she hoped I was doing okay. But instead of signing it with her name, she always signed it Whiskey Run Homecoming Committee.

Violet is nodding her head as I make the connection. I lean on the counter. “Where did you say she worked?”

She gives me an inkling of a smile but then tries to hide it. I don’t have time to ask her about it before she’s answering my question. “I didn’t. She works at the library. That’s actually where I’m going now. She left her cake, so I was going to take it to her. I’ll be sure to tell her you enjoyed the packages she sent.”

She starts to walk past me, and I move in front of her, taking the bag and cup of coffee from her hands. “Wait. I’ll take it. I need to thank her myself, I think.”

Violet shrugs and hands over the items. “Sure. Thanks, Evan. It’s good to have you back.”

For the first time since I walked in, I give her a genuine smile. “Yeah, it’s good to be back.”

Sierra

What was I thinking? Did I really expect him to come back into town, see me, and just what—fall in love with me? I berate myself the whole way back to the library. I thought I was prepared. I could have made a joke about me helping him with English in high school or something like that. But instead I moaned out his name like he was touching me in my most private parts instead of just running into some guy I used to know in high school. My hand goes straight to my forehead. Oh my God, how embarrassing.

I make it back to the library in record time. I still have plenty of time left on my lunch break, but instead of sitting and reflecting on my embarrassment, I grab the book cart and start putting the books back on the shelves. Before I know it, twenty minutes have gone by, and my face is still heated just thinking about Evan.

My coworker is on lunch now, and when I hear the bells over the front door jingle, I walk out from the middle of the science fiction and fantasy section to see who it is. As soon as I spot Evan walking in, I jump back into place behind the shelves. Surely he didn’t see me. What is he even doing here? I rest my head on the shelf in front of me. Can this day get any worse?

Since I’m the only one working, I know I’m going to have to go back out there and see what he wants. I guess my time for being mortified is not over yet. I suck in a deep breath, then another one, pull my shoulders back, and walk out from behind the shelves again. I slowly walk to the counter where he’s standing.

Determined not to say his name again because who knows if I’m going to moan it again or what, I ask, “Can I help you find something?”

He holds out the cup and the bag in his hand. “Hey, Sierra. Violet was going to bring these to you, but I offered to do it. I hope that’s okay.”

I don’t have any choice. I’ll just make a scene if I turn down the things he brought. “Yes, of course, that was so nice of her... and you for bringing it. Thank you.”

I take the Styrofoam containers from him and walk around the back of the counter. I need to put space between us, that’s for sure. I set them down on the counter and clear my throat. “So yeah, uh, thank you again.” And I force myself not to say anything more. Why is it I can’t talk to him like a normal person?