Page 28 of All That Glitters

“Did you say strangle with her glasses chain?” he rasps. “Sounds like the answer to a game of Clue.”

I laugh, and he joins in with a low chuckle that sends tingles down my spine.

“We really should clean up our mess and go. It’s late.”

He nods, then stands and stretches his arms over his head with an exaggerated yawn. The movement pulls up the bottom of his sweatshirt. I shouldn’t be disappointed that it only reveals a white T-shirt.

I am in desperate need of sleep.

“I can tell,” Jameson says, amusement in his voice.

I blink. “I didn’t think I said that out loud.” I’m very glad nothing worse came out.

He chuckles again as he collects the trash.

“You were always funny when tired.”

I frown. “I’m not sure how to feel about that.”

Jameson’s smile is still sleepy and adorable, which is disconcerting on a man of his size and abilities. Men who can take down other giant guys while skating on literal blades should not be adorable when they smile.

“Would it help if I said you were funny in a cute way?” he asks.

I freeze with my hand on the anthology I was using earlier. I must be hallucinating. Did he just say cute?

“The library is closed,” an annoyed voice snaps from behind me. I wince at the familiar tone.

“Sorry, Mrs. Rothwood,” I say as I pack up my things faster. “We’ll be out of here soon.”

“Next time, leave before closing time,” she warns.

Across from me, Jameson’s lips are pressed together like he’s trying not to laugh. I shake my head at him, barely containing a smile of my own.

“Yes, ma’am.” I manage to get the words out without laughing at Jameson’s wide-eyed look.

The woman huffs and leaves. As soon as she’s gone, Jameson starts laughing, and I’m far too delirious not to join in.

“You weren’t kidding,” he gasps between bouts of laughter. “She wanted to strangle us for sure.”

“She must hate me. I probably deserve it, staying late as often as I do.” I sigh and throw my bag over my shoulder. “I’ll probably have to cut back, or else she might ban me.”

Jameson pulls on his backpack.

“It might be good to not stay as late. You said you’re exhausted.”

I can tell by the cadence of his voice that he knows he’s putting a foot over the boundary I’ve created.

“I’m in college. Sleep is a luxury, and I’m broke.”

Jameson gives me a disapproving look as we make our way through the library.

“You can run for a while, but eventually, it will catch up to you,” he says, and he’s just vague enough that my mind can fill in the blanks in a variety of unpleasant ways.

My heart starts to race at the thought of failing in some way.

“I’ve made it this far,” I say, but the words sound weak.

The expression Jameson wears says he noticed. I keep my eyes ahead as we step into the night.