Warm air rushes over me. Dry, dusty. And something else—old paper. Ink. Leather bindings. The kind of smell that Max used to love.
Instantly, I’m back in our old place, the tiny shotgun he insisted on renting even though we could barely afford it. Books stacked in every corner. On the kitchen counter. The toilet tank.My nightstand. He always said he liked being surrounded by stories.
I hated how cluttered it was back then.
Now I’d sell my soul just to pick one of his dog-eared books off the floor and pretend he’s still on the other side of the bed.
I shake the rain off my hoodie, hugging my sketchbook to my chest as I step inside.
The place is beautiful. Old, but not rundown. The walls are lined with tall, pale wood bookshelves, each labeled in clean lettering. The floors are dark oak, and there’s a stained-glass skylight overhead—purple and green swirls that throw soft color on the floor. There’s a fireplace in the far corner. Fake, but warm-looking. A few cozy armchairs are scattered near it, and somewhere in the back, I swear I hear a printer whirring.
“Hello?” I call out, voice echoing too loud.
Silence. Then?—
“Hey there,” a voice says behind me.
I whirl.
There’s a man standing halfway down the hall. Tall. Lean. Black turtleneck tucked into black pants, a leather belt pulled snug at his waist. A thick black watch gleams on his wrist, catching the library light. I have no idea why I notice that first, but I do. The watch. The belt. The glasses.
He’s... not what I expected.
Soft brown curls brush his shoulders. His eyes are green, warm but curious. He’s holding a closed book in one hand, a pen in the other.
I inhale to apologize—and then catch his scent.
Leather. Rain. Something quiet and grounding. Not overpowering, not Alpha, not aggressive.
Beta. But still warm. Still… God, it smells good.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt. “I didn’t mean to track water in. I was just… I needed to get out of the rain.”
“It’s fine,” he says, voice smooth, a little deeper than I expected. “You must be new in town.”
“Yeah. Just got in.” I glance down. My hoodie’s dripping all over the floor.
He steps closer. “I’ve got an old T-shirt in the back if you want to dry off.”
I nod. “Thanks. That’d be... yeah, thank you.”
He tilts his head. “Wish I had a change of clothes to offer.”
“It’s okay,” I say. “I’ve looked worse.”
He smiles. Not Max’s smile. Nothing like Max. This one’s small, crooked. I hate that I notice it.
“Do you know where I can find the mayor?” I ask. “I was supposed to meet him at City Hall but the place was locked up.”
He hums. “Jake’s usually around but… today’s been quiet. Weather keeps people inside.”
“I’ve noticed,” I mutter, looking at the fog outside. “Is this always the goddamn weather? I hate the fucking rain.”
He raises an eyebrow.
“Sorry,” I add quickly. “I’m not usually this grumpy.”
He gives a slow nod, like he doesn’t believe me but he’s not going to argue. “The cold’ll do that to you.”
