Craved By My Brother-In-Law

Miss Me, Nerd?

Kira

The scent of new books and Summertime on repeat usually brought me peace, but tonight, my heart was hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.

I checked my phone screen for the tenth time. It was 7:58 PM.

Just a few days ago, I had walked into the ice rink after hearing about a scrimmage, desperately needing to clear my head after my disastrous first class. The second I saw number seven gliding effortlessly across the ice, my mood had lifted. Kent had grown even more breathtakingly handsome than I remembered. His jawline was sharper, his shoulders broader, and that single, devastating dimple still had the power to make my stomach flip.

But then his teammate had mentioned Sophie, and the fantasy shattered.

I had spent that night huddled on my bed, frantically scribbling in my diary just to stop my head from spinning.

"I saw him today," I’d written frantically as if the paper was the one who hurt me. "What started as a silly childhood crush isn't looking to die soon. I just hope Sophie is some annoying academic rival in his class, and not his girlfriend like I suspect."

Amira had burst into the room a second later, waving two front-row tickets to tomorrow's big inter-university game. I’d refused instantly, telling her I needed to study and complaining about the insufferable Ethan Rain.

"College is full of elitist pricks, Kira," Amira had groaned, throwing herself onto her bed. "Don't let him get to you."

Taking her advice, I had walked into class early the next morning, determined to bury the hatchet with Ethan. If we teamed up, we could be an unstoppable academic duo.

Thankfully, he was the only one in the lecture hall, and he was deeply focused on his laptop screen.

"Hi, Ethan," I had stammered, my fingers twisting the strap of my bag. "I—I wanted to apologize for the other day. I thought maybe we could... you know, be friends? Work together?"

Ethan didn't even looked up from his screen. Instead, his voice had cut through the empty room in a way that made my heart drop to my stomach. "You can stop trying so hard to be a people-pleaser, Thompson. I'm guessing you were bullied a lot in high school, but this is college. You don't need people to like you to survive here. Move on."

The sheer humiliation had sent me running straight back to Amira to snatch those hockey tickets. I needed a distraction. I needed Kent.

During the game’s halftime, I had gathered every ounce of my courage, slipped past the lower barriers, and found Kent near the tunnel. "Hey," I’d said, breathless. "About that hangout... I'm free."

Kent had beamed, his blue eyes lighting up. "Perfect. Meet me in the campus library tonight. Eight o'clock sharp."

"The library? At eight?" I’d blinked, completely thrown off. Since when did Kent Silver step foot in a library?

Before I could ask, his teammates had dragged him back toward the ice, leaving me with a racing heart.

Now, I stood in the lobby of the main library, pulling nervously at the hem of my oversized sweater. The building was mostly quiet, and the few remaining students huddled over laptops in the study carrels.

My phone buzzed in my palm. It was a message from Kent. "Go to the third floor. Walk all the way to the fiction section in the back. There’s an oak door marked 'Archival Storage'. Open it."

My brows furrowed. I slung my bag over my shoulder and took the elevator to the third floor. It was colder up here and the lighting was dimmer. I walked through a maze of towering bookshelves until I found the unmarked oak door at the very back of the building.

I turned the silver knob. It clicked, giving way easily.

I stepped through and gasped softly. It felt like walking into a forgotten world. The room was massive, and it looked like an abandoned wing of the old library filled with towering, dust-covered shelves that stretched up toward a vaulted ceiling. The soft moonlight streamed through a large stained-glass window, illuminating millions of dancing dust motes.

I walked deeper into the room, captivated by the beauty of it. I reached out and brushed my fingers against the spine of an old, leather-bound volume. I pulled it from the shelf, turning the yellowed pages, momentarily forgetting why I was even here.

Suddenly, a shadow fell over the pages. The distinct, intoxicating scent of expensive cologne and mint enveloped me, making every nerve ending in my body go on high alert. A broad chest loomed just inches from my back, sending waves of an intense heat that cut that sent off the chill of the room.

"Still a bookworm, I see," a deep, raspy voice whispered right against my ear.

My breath hitched.

A large, warm hand reached past my shoulder, his long fingers gently resting on the shelf right next to my head, effectively trapping me against the books. I slowly turned around, my heart hammering so loudly I was certain he could hear it.

Kent was hovering over me, a lazy, breathtaking smile playing on his lips. Before I could speak, he raised his other hand. His thumb softly brushed against my cheekbone, his fingers sliding into my hair to gently tuck a stray brown lock behind my ear.

"Hey, buttercup," he murmured, his blue eyes dropping to my lips. "Miss me?"