Jo grinned. “Technically, you can pick any name you want. But the Core Rules has a list of name suggestions under each race.”
He reached for the book. Jo handed it to him, keeping her focus on Felix’s face and not the underside of his arm, which was almost as corded as the top. Who the hell worked out their forearms that much?
Felix turned to the table of contents, ran one long finger down the page until he found the “Dragonkin” page number, and opened to it. Jo added another item to her mental list of things to teach him next time: sticky notes to mark each section for easy reference during games.
“That’s your homework,” she said, standing up and tapping the page Felix was perusing.
Felix glanced at the clock, which showed two minutes past seven. “You’re giving me homework?” he said with a playful lilt to his voice.
“Oh, there’s more,” she said as she gathered her things. “I know I said to skim the chapters after three, but I want you to go through the equipment chapter and pick out what you want your fighter to start with. You’re not a pugilist yet, so you’ll at least need armor and melee and ranged weapons. Your archetype gives you starting gold—we wrote that down—so that’s how much money you have to spend.”
He stared at her. “I’m sorry, you’ve lost me.”
“Here, give me your number,” Jo said, offering him her phone. “You can text if you have questions.”
He glanced down at the phone without taking it. “I can give you my card. Email me what you just explained, if you don’t mind, and I’ll write you back with any questions.”
“Sure, whatever works.” Jo kicked herself. First, she openly ogled the man’s arms, then she tried to wrangle his phone number out of him. Jo wasn’t locked in here with Felix. He was locked in here with her!
He rounded the desk and dug out a business card that read:
Felix Navarro, MI
Junior Librarian, General Services
“Thanks,” Jo said. Felix nodded and slid his hands into his pockets. After a moment, she inclined her head toward the door. “You want to let me out?”
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Felix reached across Jo for the keys. He’d been so careful not to touch her all night, but now his chest brushed against her shoulder, warm and firm. Startled, she moved back and immediately regretted it. Felix either didn’t notice or chose to politely ignore it.
He unlocked the door and stepped outside, holding it open for her. It was drizzling again. Jo followed him out and paused under the concrete overhang that kept them dry.
“Thank you for your help tonight. Are you going to be all right getting to your car?” he asked, professional and courteous once more. If she was being honest, Jo preferred the version of Felix that swore and had soft, kind eyes, but she liked this version well enough.
“I’m good, thanks. Same time next week?”
“Yes, I’ll be here. If you have business at the library during the week, I hope you’ll say hello.”
“Of course,” she said, waving goodnight. “Don’t work too late!”
He raised a hand in farewell as Jo jogged through the feather-light dusting of rain. She glanced back before turning the corner of the building to see Felix watching her with an easy smile. Her heart fluttered and kept on fluttering until she was inside her car.
She pulled out her phone to text Aida that she had survived, and her stomach plummeted. A text notification, plainly visible on the lock screen, read:
Aida
That or the hot librarian
“Oh my God,” Jo muttered. “Oh my fucking God, I handed him my phone.”
Was the screen on? Was the phone unlocked? No, no, she definitely remembered not unlocking her phone, which in retrospect was pretty fucking stupid of her. But had she bumped the power button and turned on the screen while it was facing him? What if the notification popped up at the exact moment she handed him the phone?
“Oh my Gooooood,” she wailed. What time had she handed Felix the phone? Sometime right after seven? Aida had texted at seven-oh-three. And he had glanced down. He had definitely glanced down at her phone as she held it out to him. And then gave her his email address instead of his number. “Nooooo!”
She didn’t even bother texting Aida. She called her. As soon as the ring cut off, Jo blurted out, “He might have seen your last text.”
Aida gasped and gave the exact right response. “Oh my God!”
Jo gave her the rundown of her last five minutes with Felix, corded forearms and all. “I have to fix this, Aida. Felix seems like a genuinely good guy, and I don’t want him to think I’m a total creep.”
“Okay, babe. Here’s what you’re going to do,” Aida said in her no-nonsense, project-manager-for-seven-figure-contracts voice. “You’re going to email him and play it totally cool. Don’t use too many exclamation points, treat him like you’d treat a work friend, and obviously don’t say anything about the text because odds are he didn’t even see it.”
Jo was nodding along, even though Aida couldn’t see her. “I can do that. But also, fuck you, because exclamation points are a really good tone indicator in writing.”
“Work friend, Jo,” she countered. “He’s being all professional with you, so you match that.”
Jo sighed. “You’re right. Now I need to go home so he doesn’t walk out here and see me watching the building from my car. Like a total creep.”
From: Jolene Rainier
To: Felix Navarro
Date: Friday, May 3, 2024, 7:36 P.M.
Subject: Homework
Hey Felix,
