Page 22 of Falling

“Tell you what,” I began, turning to Miles again to offer him some reassurance. He looked about twice as grateful as he had when I’d changed his tire for him, blue eyes shining with it. “If you leave him alone for five minutes, I’ll read all of you any book you want. Deal?”

The gleam in Maddy’s eyes told me I’d figured out just the right bribe. “Promise?”

“Promise,” I said, offering my pinkie finger to her. “Go pick one while I talk to Mr… Miles,” I finished, realizing then that I didn’t know his last name.

Maddy shook my finger with her whole hand—she hadn’t quite gotten the hang of pinkie-swearing—and tugged Noah away. All four of them ran towards the picture book shelves to make a choice.

“Wow,” Miles said behind me. He’d put me between himself and the kids, as though I was a shield. I didn’t hate that idea at all. “You’re good.”

“I’ve had a little more practice than you, that’s all.” I shrugged. “Besides, they know me.”

“Are you really going to read them a story?” he asked, looking between me and the children’s section.

“Nothing better to do until the bar opens. But uh. Speaking of the bar…”

I held the stack of flyers out to him and watched as he read the one on top, waiting for a reaction. My gut twisted as his eyes tracked the lines back and forth, afraid he’d hate the idea after all. Seth had thought it was good, but Seth wasn’t Miles.

“I can’t ask you to do this,” he said, looking up at me with those gorgeous, wide summer sky blue eyes.

“You’re not asking,” I said. “I’m offering. Because you obviously don’t love asking for help, but…”

“But I need it,” Miles finished for me, looking down at the flyers again. He didn’t sound upset, or defeated. More like he hadn’t quite absorbed the information yet. Like he couldn’t possibly have expected anything like it. “Did you design these? They’re really good.”

I laughed. “No, that was Seth. If I’d done it, they’d be a disaster.”

I’d watched Seth put the flyers together like he was performing a magic trick. No matter how many times he said they were just quick and unrefined, I couldn’t help thinking they were flawless.

Even if they weren’t, they got the message across: sign up for a library card, get a free drink. Simple and, I figured, effective.

“This is too much. You barely know me,” Miles said, turning his gaze on me again. “Why would you help me?”

“Well, first of all, it’s not just about you,” I pointed out. “I want this library to stay open. I want the kids to have somewhere to come.”

“To harass me,” Miles said wryly.

“To harass you.” I grinned. “It’s good for you, it’ll help you lighten up. Libraries… they’re sacred places, I think.”

“Yeah?” Miles asked.

“Yeah.”

His lips twitched as he stared back down at the flyers again.

“What?” I asked, ducking to look at his face. “Am I being a dork?”

“No,” he said. “No, it’s just… I think that, too. Even other librarians sometimes think I’m a dork for thinking it, but… they are. Libraries are the best thing humanity’s ever thought up, I think.”

He meant that. Of course he did—experienced in public libraries or not, Miles was a librarian. Down to the marrow, I was fairly sure.

“See? I’m just doing a community service. If it happens to benefit a friend…”

Miles’s throat worked as he swallowed, thumb worrying the edge of the flyers. We’d already agreed we were friends, but I wasn’t sure he’d entirely internalized that I meant it. He was my friend whether he liked it or not.

“I want to do it,” I said, determined to convince him. “Besides, people never come in for one drink. Works as marketing for me, too.”

Miles snorted. “Should I be encouraging that?”

“Should you be encouraging people to find community with each other in a safe setting?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Isn’t that what librarians do?”