“I’m aware.” Felix offered her a slow nod and another almost-smile. “Luckily, there are many types of books to enjoy, and many types of librarian to be.”
“Okay, you got me there. What kind of librarian are you?”
“At present? One in need of assistance.” Felix’s dark eyes softened, and Jo’s heart did too. Just a little bit. “I understand you’re too busy to GM every week. But if you’re willing, I would appreciate your help—even just a few hours of your time.”
Jo pressed her lips together, feeling the tackiness of her lip stain. The “yes” was already crawling up the back of her throat. But this time, it didn’t feel quite like her typical kneejerk reaction. She wanted to say it.
Moving to Ashville was supposed to be her fresh start—for a lot of things. She never meant to leave MnM behind for good, just to find a better balance for it in her life. As she glanced around at the empty chairs, she realized that helping Felix might be the only way to stay involved with the game for now. Maybe there was a way to say yes without it becoming an all-consuming thing. Aida, her best friend back home, the paladin to her cleric, was always talking about setting boundaries “early and often.” Jo had never been particularly good at that either, but…
Fresh start, Jo. No time like the present.
“Yeah, sure,” she said, and Felix smiled. Actually smiled, for the first time since she’d walked into the room. Jo did her best not to be distracted by how that beaming grin sent sparks dancing over her skin. “I can help for… an hour a week for the next six weeks.” Admittedly, she pulled the numbers out of thin air, but they sounded reasonable. An hour a week wasn’t overdoing it, right?
“Thank you,” Felix said, his eyes soft and warm and genuine.
The kind of eyes someone could get lost in.
“Can I make a suggestion?” Jo said, hurriedly glancing down so she didn’t stare too long and make it weird.
“Please do.”
“If someone does show up and there’s no one else here, they might not be inclined to come back,” she said. “I’ve seen it happen before, where public game programs die before they can get off the ground. If you can get your director to agree to more advertising, maybe you could do a grand opening of sorts in a few weeks. Build up enough excitement to make the first week… not this.” She waved her hands at the empty room. “One big event, and you’ll have people coming back for more.”
“That’s a good idea. Thank you. I’ll see if Warren agrees,” Felix said, getting to his feet.
Jo’s mouth went dry. Holy shit, how tall was this guy? And how did a librarian get a body like that? She’d noticed his broad chest already, but the man was seriously built more like an athlete than the bookish type. Not that they were mutually exclusive, but Jesus. Those charcoal slacks barely contained his thighs.
Felix stacked the MnM books neatly on top of the others. He picked up the whole lot with ease, even though they were an unwieldy size and weighed at least a couple of pounds each. His biceps shifted under his sleeves. Jo scrambled to pull her phone out of her pocket to give herself something else to stare at. Thank God there was a text from Aida to distract her.
Aida
How’s it going?
Jo started typing a reply.
Jo
Long story, but okay, I think? I’m the only—
“Jo?”
Her head snapped up. Felix stood by the door.
“Are you coming?”
“Oh, shit, yeah, sorry.” Jo shoved her phone in her jacket pocket and dumped her dice loose into her purse, along with their bag and her pencil. She folded her unused character sheet and pocketed it next to her phone, feeling Felix’s eyes on her the entire time. She mumbled another apology as he stood aside to let her through the door first. He caught up with her by the time she reached the bottom of the stairs. Okay, yeah, he was tall. Easily six foot two. Maybe three.
“The library closes early on Fridays, at six o’clock,” he said. “Perhaps you could come then to show me how all of this”—he hefted the rulebooks in his arms while Jo diligently ignored his biceps— “works.”
“Bold of you to assume I don’t have plans on Friday nights.”
“Do you?”
“Um. No.”
He flashed her another smile, and Jo had to grip the railing for balance. “Then I’ll see you Friday.”
2
Felix wheeled the bin of overnight returns to the front desk and stacked the books to check them in. He loved this part of the morning shift, the peace and quiet of the library with no patrons or co-workers yet. Just him and the methodical refrain of scanning each book, confirming where it belonged, and sorting it onto the proper reshelving cart.
Unfortunately, the night’s returns were minimal, and he was done in under ten minutes. He put his hands on his hips and surveyed the carts. He contemplated doing the shelving next, but that was one of Peggy’s favorite tasks, and she’d be arriving any minute. Instead, he checked his email and then the library’s general inbox. He fired off a polite response to someone asking about voter registration forms and forwarded two emails to Emma, the children’s librarian, with questions she’d be able to answer better than he could.
Ah, the glamorous life of a public librarian.
Felix sighed and sipped his vanilla café con leche out of an old, faded, blue travel mug, dutifully sealing the lid as he set it down. Though Warren didn’t have a rule against open containers at the front desk, three semesters of special collections courses at Rutgers University had ingrained certain habits into Felix. Of course, he wasn’t allowed to bring any liquids into the archives, but even in regular lecture rooms, beverages were required to be sealable. An archivist-in-training could never be too careful. And while Felix might not be an archivist yet, there was no reason to let himself get sloppy.
He glanced around for something to keep him occupied. Two enormous books stared back: Core Rules and Monster Compendium (Volume 1). After saying good night to Jo the previous evening, he’d returned most of the Monsters and Mythology books to their shelf and checked out the two she suggested he start with. He hadn’t brought them home; they were still part of a work assignment, after all. They were still sitting exactly where he’d left them, tucked under the monitor of his usual computer station.
“Might as well,” he murmured. He flipped Core Rules open.
“GREETINGS, ADVENTURER,” yelled the first line on page one. Felix cringed but gritted his teeth and soldiered on. He had made it to the end of page three when the front door offered him a reprieve.
“Mornin’, Felix,” Peggy called. “Any patrons yet?” She was a lean white woman somewhere north of fifty with a spiky, highlighted haircut that screamed “early 2000s mom.” It suited her to a tee. Today’s cardigan was deep blue and covered in embroidered cherry blossoms. In the nine months they’d been working together, Felix had never seen her repeat a cardigan. He had to admire her commitment.
“Good morning, Peg. Not yet.”
