Kiss To Forget (Blairwood University #2) - Anna B. Doe Page 0,51
rows looking the same I don’t even know if I’m going in the right direction.
“Fucking finally,” I mutter when I see a stream of light around the corner.
I’m so focused on getting out of the maze of bookshelves, I don’t see the backpack on the floor. My foot connects with it, sharp pain running up my leg—what the fuck is in that thing?—as I stumble forward. At the last moment I grab the shelf, regaining my balance.
“Seriously? Should you be…”
I turn around to glare at the person who’s responsible for almost breaking my leg, but the words die on my lips when I see her.
Yasmin.
The last person I expected to find, yet the first person who appears when I least expect her.
She’s lying on the table, her hand tucked under her head, lips slightly parted as she breathes in her sleep. She looks serene as she sleeps, the lines of her face smooth, showing an innocence of sorts that’s safely hidden away when she’s awake and scowling down at me.
Open books cover the small desk in the corner that’s secluded from the rest of the people. She’d probably been studying when she fell asleep.
My legs move before I can think about it, bringing me closer to her.
I should go, I know I should. I’m not in the right mindframe to deal with anybody right now. I should let her be, but the pull she has on me is stronger.
Her hair is loose, falling down her back in a mass of dark curls. It’s strange to see it unbound like that when most of the time she tries to tame it, but it suits her. It looks wild, like it has a will of its own. Beautiful, stubborn and fierce. Just like her.
Yasmin shifts slightly, murmuring something, and for a split second I think my almost-fall has woken her, but then she settles down once again.
Books on different topics are scattered over the table. From a quick sweep I find a couple on Shakespeare, some material on early education, and a German textbook; at least, I think it’s German. Her laptop is open, but the screen is black, signaling she’s been out for a while.
One curl falls in her face, tickling her nose. Chuckling lightly, I brush it away. Her hair is soft underneath my touch, and I can sense the smell of cinnamon and honey surrounding her.
Yasmin sighs happily, and I hate that I’ll have to wake her, but I know I can’t leave her like this. Even though she’s secluded in this little corner, she’s still in a public place, and although I’m sure criminals don’t frequent libraries you can never be too sure. There’re assholes everywhere just waiting for an opportunity to strike.
Lowering my hand to her shoulder, I give her a soft shake. “Rise and shine.”
Yasmin protests something in her sleep; it makes no sense whatsoever, but the stubborn look on her is so cute I can’t help the smile that tips my lips.
Pulling out a chair next to her, I move closer. My fingers tangle in her curls, wrapping one strand around my finger and giving it a soft tug. “Yas-Yas, wake up.”
She groans unhappily, her face turning into a grimace. “Don’t wanna.”
“I can see that but you can’t sleep in the library.”
She blinks a few times, sleep still clinging to her eyes as they open. “Says who?”
“I’m sure Mrs. G would have something to say about it.”
“Mrs. G?”
A frown appears between her brows, and I have this sudden need to rub my thumb over the little crease and smooth the worry lines.
Where the hell did that come from?
I pull back like I’ve been burned, which is silly because I’m not even touching her. Thankfully, Yasmin is too sleepy to notice my weird behavior.
“Mrs. Gibson, the head librarian?”
“You know the head librarian?”
“You don’t?”
Yawning, she sits upright in the chair. “No, I don’t think so. You do?”
“Well, yes. Although she’s not really fond of us.”
Yasmin blinks, her brows rising. “Do I even want to know?”
“How can you not?” Plastering the smile on my face, I lean back in my chair. “So we have these Ravens team study sessions.”
“Oh.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “What does that mean?”
“Just oh.” She shrugs.
“Yeah, right.” I don’t believe one word she says. Still glaring at her, I continue, “So we have these sessions and occasionally things get heated.”
“In the library?”
“Well yeah, we’re a passionate bunch.”
“More like Trouble. That’s with a capital T in case you were wondering.”