Page 26 of The Librarian’s Familiar

“Right.” That kind of made sense because it was going to be hard to meet anyone if he didn’t put himself out there. The thought of making a dating profile and meeting guys out in the open was enough to make his skin prickle and his stomach turn. “There is one other problem. I don’t want to date someone who only wants to be with me because of who I am.”

He’d seen that happen to other guys on the team. Sure, it was easy to meet hockey fans who wanted to date players, but they were only interested in the status, the money, and the social life…and the fact that they were often away for weeks at a time during the season. Even if they were home, they were training and doing team stuff.

Harvey laughed. “Excuse me, Mr. Hotshot.”

“Fair point,” Keaton said at the same time. “But I have no idea how you weed them out.

August shrugged. “I feel like I should get my life together before even attempting to date. Mom thinks finding the right person would help me get my life together.”

“Did you tell her already?” Keaton asked, managing to sound offended.

“Nooo. I’ve already had to dodge some introductions. I will tell her and Dad. I guess it’s not a secret anymore.” It felt weird to be sharing it like it was. Charlie didn’t make announcements, he simply existed. “There’s a part of me that thinks I shouldn’t have to say anything.”

“I mean, if you’re talking about the general public, or your adoring fans, you don’t have to make a statement. But you need to tell your family, so we know who to set you up with.” Harvey grinned like he was already scheming.

August gave Harvey a shove. And his brother toppled to the side rather dramatically. “No setting me up. If I don’t know what I like, how the hell are you supposed to?”

“You must have some preference? Taller, shorter—what are they called, the skinny, pretty ones?” Keaton leaned back and propped himself up on one elbow, still lying on the dirt.

“Twinks? Too young. Maybe if I was still in my twenties.”

“Okay, so thirty-ish. Someone who presumably has their life together and is looking for a boneheaded, gym junkie, polar bear shifter.” Harvey frowned as if thinking.

Keaton frowned. “That’s going to be a short list.”

“I’m being serious,” Harvey growled.

August sighed, his head filled with Charlie and the way he’d looked at him. “I think I want someone paranormal, because I’m tired of keeping secrets.”

“That really narrows it down as foxes are out.”

“Witches mean risking a fated mate situation,” Harvey added.

His grandparents had mentioned that, warning him not to kiss witches while he was away at school. They’d had opinions about witches, and none of them had been particularly complementary—Charlie probably knew more about the historical animosity between shifters and witches. But every witch August had run across had always been fine, just another paranormal trying to get by in a human world.

Would a fated mate be so bad? It felt like the easy way out. They were meant to be together, so there was no reason to fight it. All he needed to do was kiss a lot of witches. So far, he knew exactly one who had definitely thought about kissing him.

August exhaled and stared up at the sky. He was a speck of nothing in the grand scheme of things, which was surprisingly reassuring. “I don’t think we’re going to solve my dating issues tonight, but I appreciate the effort and the understanding.”

“I can’t believe you thought we’d be dicks about it.” Harvey gave him a nudge. “To be fair, I did wonder at one point because you never had a girlfriend at school, and you never asked about how to get one or anything. Keaton said you were too into hockey to worry about things like that.”

“I actually said he was too smelly for girls,” Keaton said with a grin and sat up. “So can we get back to shifting?”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Charlie half expected to see August the following day, but when he hadn’t shown up by lunchtime, he figured August was still shifting. That, or he had better things to do than hang around the library. Which wasn’t hard to imagine, as Charlie was sure that if he’d earned millions and was able to retire at thirty-five, he’d also have better things to do than hang around the library. He also wouldn’t hang around Claw Lake.

He’d be in some tiny town in Europe, living in a historic building that desperately needed renovating. Hell, maybe he’d buy one of those entire towns that occasionally came up for sale. It would be a haven for shifters and witches—like this place, only with better weather—and they’d all live in the town as they rebuilt it. They’d drink wine and eat cheese and forget about the rest of the world.

Sure, his magic would work against him, picking away at mortar joints and collapsing parts of roofs but that didn’t matter. Maybe he could even direct them to a building that wasn’t being repaired…

He blinked and shook his head because it was a pointless dream, not reality.

His reality involved finishing registering the books, printing up flyers for a ‘what’s coming’ event he wanted to hold in a couple of weeks, and compiling the responses he was getting about what people read and recommendations for what he should put on the shelves.

He also wanted to have some events for the teenagers in town, but he hadn’t decided what yet. Maybe he needed to talk to a school teacher or two. He added that to his list of things he needed to do. While he’d crossed a lot of things off since arriving, there were always things to add. So on one hand, it was endless, but on the other hand, he was enjoying being able to make such an impact.

He liked creating, even though it was at odds with his magic. Or maybe it was because of his magic, in much the same way he liked order instead of chaos.