The library had been pretty uneventful in the months following my encounter with the stranger in the stacks. Things were back to normal much to my dismay. The stacks were quiet and empty once again and I began working more at the front desk hoping to catch the stranger entering the library. I was sure I would catch some glimmer of recognition in his eyes and know instantly that it was him that afternoon. I thought maybe he had returned but was unable to find me. There are after all several floors to the library. My eyes jumped up as if by reflex every time someone walked through the entrance.
I began to think that maybe my mystery lover in the stacks had been just a one-time thing. Or worse, a figment of my imagination. It was like a dream that had seemed all too real at the time, but, looking back on it, was actually quite impossible. As time went by, my hopes that he would return and ravish me again began to dwindle until I had nearly forgotten about the incident all together.
Until Tuesday.
"Sara, would you mind shelving the books for me today? I need to leave early for a doctor's appointment and Rachel asked if she could man the desk. Do you mind?" Brian asked.
"Sure, no problem" I said even though I did mind. Things were slow today. There weren't many patrons, it being a sunny Tuesday afternoon, so I was just reading a book at the front desk with the occasional interruption when someone wanted to check something out. Shelving required actual physical work. Not to mention I would be standing for the rest of the afternoon. But I couldn't refuse. Rachel had been doing most of the shelving for the past few days and I felt guilty.
I grabbed a cart full of non-fiction books. I figured the non-fiction floors would be quieter, less patrons asking me annoying questions and it would be easier for me to daydream. The bad wheel on the right side of the front of the cart kept pulling it to the right and I struggled to keep the cart moving straight as I headed to the elevator. A man was already waiting there and he looked over at me as I wheeled the cart in his direction. My first thought was that he was not bad looking for an older guy. Not that old, but old enough - I'd say late 30s, early 40s. He smiled and his green eyes seemed warm and welcoming. And he had that dark brown wavy hair and pale skin combination that I loved. After quickly making eye contact and smiling in that Hi-I'm-waiting-for-the-elevator-too kind of way, he nervously looked back up at the numbers above the elevator indicating which floor it was on. I could sense that he was anxious as the elevator numbers slowly counted down to our floor and I found it adorable that I could make a man who was probably old enough to be my father as nervous as a teenage boy in the presence of the homecoming queen. I smiled a bit to myself and I think he happened to glance over at me as I did this and caught me. As if it were contagious, a smiled curled up the edges of his mouth too.
The elevator door slid open and a little old woman with silver tufts of hair popping up all over her head and glasses that indicated she must be as blind as a bat without them waddled out. I looked over at the man who had been standing beside me to see if he would make the first move to get onto the elevator or if he would let me go first with the cart. As I had expected, he did the gentlemanly thing and, with a smile, ushered me on to the elevator. I smiled back and with some resistance from the book cart managed to squeeze into the tiny elevator. I pushed the cart all the way to the left leaving only a few feet for both the green-eyed man and myself to stand next to one another. I could have positioned the cart differently so that we wouldn't have to stand so close, but I decided against it. In that split second as I got onto the elevator I decided I wanted the possibility of accidentally touching him. I wanted to be able to smell his skin, the starch in his shirt, his aftershave. As he stepped onto the elevator after me I wondered if he realized what I had done.
I reached past him and pressed 6. He watched my finger press the button and then, with only a brief hesitation, pressed 7. The door closed and slowly began its ascent. We both stood there silently, looking up at the floor numbers flicker at each floor, not knowing where else to look. He moved, changing his weight from his left leg to his right. In the process, his upper arm brushed against mine. My body suddenly felt a rush of warmth as if I had just done a shot of whiskey. I suddenly became aware of my breasts as I inhaled deeply. Out of the corner of my eye I could tell that he noticed them too. I was wearing an angora v-neck sweater that dipped to just above the center part of my bra. From the right angle, my black lace bra and the inner curve of my breasts were clearly visible. I wondered how much he could see. I wondered if there was anything I could do to let him see more. My nipples, sensing all the attention my breasts were getting decided to get firm and steal the show.
I could tell he was getting fidgety and the silence was not making anything any more comfortable. Just when I thought the tension could not get any more unbearable, the elevator stopped at my floor. He smiled somewhat uncomfortably and stepped off the elevator so that I could wheel the cart out. As he got back in the elevator and turned around, the expression on his face was one of relief as though he had been holding his breath the entire time and was finally free to exhale. I was a little disappointed the elevator ride had ended so abruptly, but I had work to do.
I pushed the book cart to the last aisle and began shelving. The floor was empty, as I had expected. Even the adorable little study nook that was hidden on the floor all the way in the back here was empty. Usually, you have to get here early to claim this little piece of privacy with its large wooden desk and old-fashioned green leather chair.
Ten or fifteen minutes passed before I heard anyone else on the floor. The footsteps were heading straight towards the back where I was working and I turned around to see who would be keeping me company. As the person reached the last bookshelf and his face came into view I couldn't help but grin to myself. His eyes quickly turned towards me and we made eye contact for a few seconds. He didn't seem surprised to see me, and he gave me a friendly smile as he headed towards the study nook. I distractedly went back to shelving books, all the while stealing quick glimpses of him poring over some book and watching him out of the corner of my eye. I stole glances of his dark brown hair, his crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up revealing his well-toned forearms, his slate gray pants, and his black shoe-covered feet crossed and curled beneath the chair. After several minutes passed, I realized that he had yet to turn the page of the book he was reading. I wondered if he was even reading the book at all. I curiously looked over at him, ignoring subtlety and stealth. He noticed me staring at him and looked back at me. For a moment we both just stared at each other like we were competing is some sort of visual game of Chicken, trying desperately not to be the first to look away. I lost.
