The following week, I was working my normal Wednesday night shift at the local library which was located right across the street from a skate park. In walked a young man with dark features holding a black bicycle helmet. I looked up from my work of discarding books which consisted of stamping and crossing out bar codes with a permanent marker to notice the dark hair on the man’s arms while he was sifting through the DVD racks. There was something familiar about those arms and those thick black eyebrows.
I thought for a moment. Could it be? That person I met the other day looked like that too…it was him! But would he recognize me? I watched intently out of the corner of my eye as he traveled around the DVD section and pulled a few movies he was interested in. Looking down at his phone, he walked over to the circulation desk.
“I can take you here, if you’re ready,” I offered. I slid the discard book pile out of my way so fast that I’m surprised it didn’t fall to the floor. He looked up from his phone. Those eyes drew me in once again. I trembled thinking about the way he studied my face when we first met. Did he remember my voice or recognize my face? My hands began shaking and I clasp them together to keep them still as he stepped up to the counter. He set his DVDs down and flashed a sly smile.
“Hey, how you doin’?” he asked using a Brooklyn accent. He stood tall and strong like he was preparing for a speech he had practiced a hundred times. I felt my cheeks filling with warmth.
“Okay, I guess. I didn’t think you would recognize me without my hat.”
“I never forget a pretty face.” He leaned over the counter to get closer. I felt small as I sat at the circulation desk and he seemed so tall in comparison. I began unlocking his DVDs from the security cases in a repetitive motion.
“Did you find that bike shop okay?” I asked in between the clicks from the uncasing magnet.
“Sorry about that. I never said, ‘Thank you’. So, thank you. I did find it okay, by the way.”
I began to pry and flirt at the same time, “Why did you try to stop me if my directions were adequate?” I didn’t always think before speaking, especially to guys. And this guy, who was good-looking and obviously attracted to me, made it even harder to not blush when I tried to look him in the eyes. Those dark mocha and soft round eyes made me want an almond milk mocha macchiato. But wait, when don’t I? I thought our conversation from the other day was over and that he was done with me, so when he tried to keep me longer, it made me question. Most men got what they wanted with me and dumped me moving on with their lives. But he purposefully wanted me to stay and I wanted to know why.
“I wanted to talk to you more.” My eyes darted away from his smooth olive skin toned face.
“Oh, I didn’t realize. Well, I never got your name.” I was hoping that was the case, but I felt embarrassed asking like it is something I should just know. I was flattered that he was in fact, interested.
“It’s Nick.” he said as he handed me his library card.
“I see it is.” I replied scanning his library card and reading his information that came up on the computer screen. I handed his card back to him and he lightly grazed my hand as he took it from me. He kind of smirked with a flirty look on his face like he was being intentional. It intrigued me that he just responded the way he felt and didn’t worry about anyone else around him, even the line of patrons that was being held up by his shenanigans.
“Thanks,” he said as he packed up his movies into his soft hands. It was hard to believe that those satin hands were the hands of someone athletic. Maybe he was accustomed to wearing bike gloves to protect them, or he got manicures, but whatever it was, I was infatuated. I wanted to know what it was like to hold them and be intertwined in their masculine grip. “Are you always here on Wednesday nights?” he questioned before stepping away from the counter. I noticed the grimaces on the faces of the patrons behind him growing more impatient.
“Yes, I am. It’s my normal night at this library.”
“Then maybe I’ll see you next week when my movies are due. Have a good night.”
“You as well.” I looked down as I fumbled with shaky hands and picked up the empty DVD cases to put on the rack behind me.
I felt butterflies filling up my stomach. It was so nice to have a man smile and be interested in me. I didn’t feel like anyone would want me with my curvy hips and small chest. My body was not what society praised. Short legs and fine brown hair were not what the media portrayed as beautiful. Fears of rejection and hurt kept me from talking to guys for so many years and even looking anyone in the eyes. I never felt good enough. I wasn’t used to being pursued and it made me feel special to be wanted. I hoped he would come back to see me again.
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