The Best of Kristina Wright Read Free Page A

Or maybe I was just ready for someone like him. In any case, his approval sent a little thrill through me that I hadn’t experienced in a long, long time.
    We each paid for our groceries, waiting in line silently. Then he told me to follow him. I liked that better than going with him. I was curious, but I wasn’t stupid.
    He drove to a coffee shop about a mile from the library. I’d passed the place a thousand times, but I’d never been there. I parked next to him and followed him inside.
    The waitress nodded to him as if he was a regular. We sat in a booth near the back, the only other patron an elderly man sitting at the counter. Justin sat across from me, studying me with dark, unblinking eyes.
    “What?” I said, fidgeting nervously.
    “Sit still.”
    Like an obedient dog, I immediately quieted. Then I frowned.
    “What’s the matter?” he asked.
    I shook my head. “I don’t know.”
    “Yes, you do. Tell me.”
    I started to say I really didn’t know, but I could feel my frown deepening. “I don’t like you.”
    He chuckled and it was a soft, seductive sound that washed over my skin like a touch. “No. What you don’t like is how you respond to me.”
    I opened my mouth to deny it and he held his hand up.
    “Don’t. Don’t lie to me and don’t lie to yourself. You respond to me and it confuses you.”
    I thought about that for a moment. “Yes,” I said, though it hadn’t been a question.
    The waitress came over and took our order – a black coffee for him and a hot chocolate for me. When she was gone, he stared at me once more.
    “Why do you think that is?” he asked.
    I’d lost track of our conversation for a moment, so caught up in his steady gaze. “What?”
    His lips thinned to a straight line. “Pay attention. Why do you think it bothers you to respond to me?”
    I didn’t like the conversation, but I knew if I continued to argue with him, he would leave. I wasn’t sure how I knew it, but I did. I thought hard for a moment, trying to put my feelings into words. “Because I’m used to being in control.”
    “And I make you feel out of control?”
    I played with the salt and pepper shakers. “You make me question myself.”
    “Interesting.”
    I felt like a science project. I also felt a need to clarify myself. “It’s mostly curiosity,” I said, sounding defensive even to my own ears. “It’s not like this is going anywhere.”
    Again, that soft, sexy laugh. “Oh, really? Is that what you think?”
    I didn’t get a chance to respond because the waitress brought our drinks. I waited until she’d gone off behind the counter once more before saying anything.
    “I think I’m going to be very careful around you.”
    He nodded. “Smart girl.”
    We talked then, about inconsequential things. My job as a librarian, his as a college professor. I wasn’t surprised he taught college. He had the air of a man comfortable in academia, in instruction. I wondered, almost jealousy, if any of his female students had experienced his disciplining side. Somehow, I didn’t doubt it.
    An hour slipped by and my cocoa grew cold. He pulled a few bills from his wallet and tossed them on the table. I felt an irrational disappointment to know our time together was over.
    “Don’t frown,” he said.
    “I didn’t know I was.”
    He reached across the scarred table and circled my wrist with his fingers. I could feel my pulse jump and I knew he could, too. “You’re upset it’s time to go.”
    I swallowed hard, but I nodded.
    “So, don’t leave me just yet. Come to my house.”
    I gently tugged my wrist free of his grasp. “I can’t go with you. I don’t even know you.”
    He studied me carefully, as if memorizing me. “You know me. And you’re afraid of what I know about you.”
    Almost against my will, I asked, “What do you know about me?”
    His fingers took my wrist once more. “I know you’re nervous, a little afraid.” His grip tightened. “I also know if I asked you to go to