in a husky voice, “Think of all the fun I would have missed.”
Without commenting, he knelt back down and eyed the books. A soft blush covered his cheeks. I bit my lip to stop a smile. It was cute.
“This is it.” He stopped on one book and pulled it out. I leaned over, but I couldn’t see its title. His body effectively covered it. He pulled up his shirt, showing Matt’s lean abs, and tucked the book into his jeans. Lucky book. I caught a glimpse of the back cover—an illustration I didn’t recognize, soft hues of red, cream, and blue—before he yanked his shirt down.
“What’s in the book?” I asked.
Doppelganger-Matt stood up. Keeping the book out of my sight, he leaned closer, as if he were going in for another kiss. My pulse spiked. He slipped my phone out of my pocket.
I tried to grab it back from him, but he moved away. “What are you doing?”
“Texting Ragnar.” His fingers flew deftly over the touch-screen phone.
Another reason Doppelganger-Matt could not be the real Matt. The real Matt picked at the screen with excruciating slowness. He handed the phone back to me. I glanced at the screen. The text read—In the library. Sick. Take me home.
“High-handed, aren’t you?” I remarked.
“Yes.” He pulled me off the bookshelf. A hand snaked around my neck and drew me in for a quick yet heartfelt kiss. My other hand curled in soft, brown hair. His hand slid up my bare leg. I caught it before he reached too far up. Squeezing my thigh, he pulled away. “Happy birthday, Ryan.”
My mouth was freed, yet I remained breathless.
Before I could manage more than a blink, he loped halfway across the library.
“Wear something pretty Saturday,” I called out.
“Get a longer skirt,” he replied, without turning around.
He left through the open door. I looked down and made a face. He’d left my skirt hiked up. I smoothed it. I heard a shuffling at the door. My head jerked up. Mild unease filled me at the thought that someone might have actually seen us.
Matt, the real Matt with pensive amber eyes and sober expression, came into the library. Marilynn trailed him. My mild unease turned to full-blown embarrassment.
“It was Vane,” I said.
“I figured.” Matt walked toward the bookshelf. His eyes flickered over the low tables. The memory of the lion washed over us. Matt held my gaze. “Why me?”
Why did I kiss Vane while he looked like Matt? Or why did Vane take his form? Either answer was one Matt wouldn’t like. I chose another safer one. “He snuck in to get something from the library.”
Matt wasn’t fooled. His gaze fell on my mouth, puffy lips that still tingled.
“It’s not him anymore, Ryan.”
“You’re not giving him much of a chance, Merlin.”
“I’ve given him plenty. So did Blake. He can’t be trusted.” He glanced at the bookshelf. “If he could be, then why sneak in here? Why the disguise? Which book did he take?”
I played with my bottom lip. “He didn’t want me to see—”
“Typical,” Marilynn muttered from behind Matt.
I tamped down an urge to stick my tongue out at her like a five-year-old. “I saw a picture on the back cover. I can search for it in the library database.”
“It gives us something, at least,” Matt said. His unhappy expression didn’t waver. He gestured at Marilynn. “Take over for her this afternoon as we planned. Ryan’s had enough time to be normal.”
I shook off the weariness sapping my strength. Stubbornness straightened my spine. “Stop thinking you can run my life, Matt. I’ll be home after school.” I scowled at Marilynn. “I don’t need the duplicate to fill in.”
“We should follow up on this right away,” Matt shot back. “Stop being so childish.”
It was the worst possible thing to say. My hackles rose even more. “We can work on it this afternoon.” I told Marilynn sweetly, “You can cover the afterschool Prom meeting.”
Matt raked a hand through his hair in frustration. “Everyone is depending on us—”
I didn’t waver. “They can wait a few hours.”
Matt’s lips tightened. Turning on his heel, he walked out.
Marilynn shook her head. “You’re an idiot, DuLac. He says it’s for everyone, but he only looks at you. He’s doing this for you.”
I stared after Matt. If that were true, it would have been him taking me to Prom. It would have been him who remembered my birthday. I said softly, “No, he’s not doing this for me. He just hasn’t admitted as much to himself.”
CHAPTER 13