This is my entry in the
April Fools Day Story Contest 2023
. Your votes and comments are always appreciated.
All characters engaged in adult activities are legally adults over 18.
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Marc Leavitt was at his usual table in the library on Friday morning. He'd finished his 'real' work for the week and was furiously grinding away on his hobby, writing fiction... a special kind of fiction. Marc knew from experience that when the words were pouring out of him like they were now that he just needed to keep typing until the flood stopped. He could always polish up the text later. His fingers flew over the laptop keyboard. He was really in the zone today.
At last Marc reached a natural section break in his story. He leaned back in his chair for a bit of a mental break and reached for his water bottle. That's when he noticed her.
Emmy was sitting diagonally across from Marc. She had taken the seat without him noticing. Her backpack was on the table in front of her, and one finger twirled in her short curly hair as she read her book. Emmy glanced up and noted that Marc had stopped typing. Their eyes met and locked for a moment. Emmy felt the heat rise in her cheeks. She forced herself to pull her eyes away. His expression hadn't told her anything, but maybe he was just preoccupied. Eventually he began typing again. Emmy sighed to herself.
Why couldn't I just say something to him??
Marc kept working on his story, but now he felt a bit distracted. The woman across the table was not a stunning classic beauty, but there was something about her that nagged at him. Slender, nicely proportioned, attractive face, and... that was it. Those striking blue-green eyes, the way they bored right into his. It had only been for a moment, but that moment was now fixed in his consciousness. He managed a few more paragraphs before the image became too much. He stopped and looked up again.
But she was gone.
*******
Emmy's experience with Craig, her last boyfriend, did not end well. The man was incredibly handsome but at 22, immature and arrogant. He flirted shamelessly with most of her friends, and simply waved off her protests -- "Don't be such a jealous bitch." What a toxic a-hole he turned out to be.
In hindsight it was inevitable that she eventually caught him with that slut Melody. When Emmy let herself into Craig's apartment, there they were pawing at each other. Their shirts had already come off, and Craig was pulling off her bra. Emmy screamed invective at Craig, threw her spare key at him, and stormed out, slamming the door. Craig blew up her phone with texts and calls: it was all a mistake, it would never happen again, babe you gotta get past it, you're the one I really want, blah, blah, blah. She immediately blocked him and didn't look back.
Emmy had gone back to graduate school after two years in the workforce. She realized now that dating a younger guy from school had been a big mistake. She needed someone who was not only interesting but stable and loyal, not some prick constantly looking for fresh meat. Her best friend Cecilia sympathized.
"Em, stop messing around with hot but flaky students. I know you. You're a bright woman, you'll never be happy with some airhead bad boy even if you could manage to pin him down. You need to find a slightly nerdy, more mature guy with some real substance. Get off the campus, go to museums, galleries, the library, or even lectures."
"Has that worked for you?"
Cecilia chortled. "Well, I found Vic in the produce section at Whole Foods, so maybe go there too!"
"I do go there, just not to troll for men," Emmy said, her tone a bit defensive.
Cecilia turned serious. "The world's changed, girl. The young guys either play the field or get their claws into some rich cougar. Women our age need to look carefully for stable guys and not write them off as boring. The most interesting men are the ones that have a lot of layers to be unraveled. Sometimes they have this smoldering sexuality that just needs to be tapped. Vic only needed a little bit of coaching, and he turned into a real bedroom tiger. Rowwrr!"
Emmy rolled her eyes. But she thought that maybe Cecilia had a point. She could maybe hang out in the places Cecilia suggested. She already knew that not one of the single men at her accounting firm was worth pursuing.
Emmy had no classes Friday and on a whim decided on a trip to the public library. She wasn't certain what to expect: homeless people, retirees, or toddlers and their moms. What she found though was a nice looking guy who was maybe 30 or a bit younger, with a day or two of stubble, horn-rimmed glasses, a trim physique, dressed in a comfortable vintage Levis shirt. He was sitting at a multi-seat table on the second floor, apparently working. She was interested enough to sit at the same table and try to read. She glanced at him occasionally but he was lost in concentration, typing away on his laptop.
After their eyes eventually met, Emmy sensed that he wasn't going to make a move; she didn't feel confident enough to speak to him, and he didn't stop working again. She finally left, regretting her shyness. But she thought about him a few times during the week, wondering if she would see him there again and how to kick-start a conversation. It couldn't hurt to try.
*******
The following Friday Marc had a rush assignment to complete and didn't make it to the library. Emmy came in and returned some books, but she didn't see him after searching all of the tables on the second floor. She left, feeling a bit downcast.
The rest of the week was hard for Emmy. She had more thoughts about the mystery man in the library, and just couldn't let go of the idea that he might be there again on Friday. She even went shopping in Whole Foods but the only guys she saw there were older ones with their wives, or young stockboys. By Friday she wasn't sure she wanted to try the library again. In a burst of bravado she talked herself into it.
Emmy came into the library and again went to the second floor. She was preparing herself for another disappointment. As she came around the stacks, her heart rate jumped -- the man with the laptop was there again. This time he had no stubble. It also looked like he'd had a recent haircut, and it looked good. His denim shirt had the sleeves rolled up partway, definitely a sexy look. She straightened her shoulders, walked to the table, put down her backpack and sat -- this time directly across from the man.
Marc was working at his usual table in the library. He had a couple of good ideas to work into the story he was writing and smiled to himself as they started to take shape. He was concentrating on his screen and the backpack barely registered. Then a soft feminine scent penetrated his shell of concentration, and he looked up. It was the same woman.
Now he gave her a good look. She had short, curly brown hair in a sort of messy pixie cut, and those brilliant, intense blue-green eyes. A man could get lost in those eyes. She turned her head and their gazes met again. This time though she spoke, a gentle voice that caressed his ears like velvet.
"Hello again."
Marc was flustered for a moment, but recovered. He gave her a small smile.
"Hello. You were here once before, weren't you?"
"That's right, two weeks ago. I guess you're a Friday library regular?"
Marc chuckled. "This seems to be a good spot for me to be productive. I didn't make it here last week though, I was tied up with my real job." Marc wondered if she had been in last week, but didn't want to sound creepy by asking her.
Emmy was curious. "What is it you're working on?"
"I'm not sure it qualifies as real work. I write stories here in my free time. Fiction."
Her eyes widened. "Really? For publication, or just as a hobby?"
He shrugged. "A bit of both I suppose. I find it relaxing and stimulating. I've published a few things on Inkblott."
Emmy was fully attentive now. That site had stories and books in several categories, but its notoriety came largely from the racy romances and erotica published there. "Tell me more. That's very interesting."
"Well, I suppose you know the kind of stories that draw attention there."
"The really racy stuff, right? And you write yours in the library?" Emmy realized she was being a bit loud and lowered her voice. "It's almost like working undercover. By the way, I'm Emmy. And you are...?"
"I'm Marc. It's nice to meet you, Emmy."
Her smile was now high wattage, no longer shy. "So, you probably use a pen name?"
He laughed. "Of course I do. None of my friends have any idea that I write this kind of thing."
"I'd love to read some of your work. Will you tell me your pen name?"
