Page 72 of The Player's Club
My mind went blank. Grimacing, I admitted, “Uh, Dr. Seuss?”
She laughed. “Mac. Come on now. Please tell me you’ve read a book in the last year.” At my expression, she sighed. “What about in the last five years?”
Now, I was offended. “Of course I have.”
I failed to mention that the last book I’d read was a biography of Wayne Gretzky. I couldn’t remember the last time I had read something willingly that wasn’t about hockey.
“I think I liked The Catcher in the Rye back in high school,” I said. “Is that the one with Holden Caulfield?”
Elodie smiled. “Good job.” She patted my shoulder, which just made me growl at her.
When the play finished and we headed to our next destination, Elodie told me about how she’d fallen in love with writing after reading Shakespeare.
“His plays have everything in them: comedy, tragedy, romance, mystery. If you don’t like one play, there’s another one you will enjoy. His characters are complex. I mean, look at Hamlet. Was he just acting insane? Or was he truly going insane? I wrote an entire paper about that.”
“Like I said, you’re definitely a nerd, Elodie Andrews.”
She shrugged. “Maybe. But I bet I could get you going talking about hockey for hours.”
“I didn’t mean that as a diss. I love that you’re passionate about something. Too many people aren’t passionate about anything. They just go through their lives not caring much one way or another.”
Elodie seemed to accept that, and when she parked her car in front of the Central Library in nearby downtown LA, I had to restrain a chuckle.
“The library?” I shot her an amused look. “Really?”
“Have you ever been here? It’s gorgeous inside. Come on.”
Despite having lived in LA for years now, I’d never been to any of its libraries. The Central Library was an imposing white building in the classic Spanish design. After entering and going up a staircase, we stood in a large, colorful rotunda. In the center was an equally impressive chandelier.
“The ceiling?” Elodie pointed. “It’s all painted motifs. Amazing, right?”
I nodded. “Cool.”
We then wandered around, the quiet of the huge building rather imposing. We eventually went into a part of the library full of books and almost void of any human beings.
“I can’t remember the last time I was in a library,” I said, touching the spines of books as we passed through various aisles.
“Really? I love libraries. They’re so calming.”
I suddenly remembered my parents refusing to get us kids library cards when one of my sisters had asked for one. They’d claimed that libraries were filled with ungodly books. We could only check out books from our church’s library. The selection there had been limited; there hadn’t been any Harry Potter, that was for sure. It was no wonder I never got into reading when my parents led me to believe that most books were bad.
“Are you going to check anything out?” I asked.
Elodie’s smile was sly. “Oh, I was planning on it.”
The only thing I checked out was her. When she took me to a dark corner, she planted a heated kiss on my lips. I laughed once my brain connected with what the hell she was doing.
“Elodie Andrews, are you trying to seduce me?” I growled. “In a library?”
“Yeah. Is it working?”
I pushed her against the wall, thrusting my tongue into her mouth. She moaned as we kissed like teenagers. The thought of getting caught was enough to make me rock hard, even if it was just getting caught making out.
“You’re a naughty girl, aren’t you?” I whispered. I sucked on the lobe of her ear.
She shuddered. “You like me naughty, though.”
“Oh, that goes without saying.”