Shifters with Secrets (An MMF Bisexual Threesome)(6)

“Damn,” said Gavin.

Unlike Thomas, he only had one tattoo on his left forearm, but it was also a bear: this one stylized, heavy curved lines that wrapped around his arm. Other than that, his skin was blank.

“It’s a public library in a small town,” Sofia said. “Thomas gave the tapes to the police, but there’s not a camera anywhere near where the break-in happened,” she went on.

“Nobody heard anything?” Gavin asked. He picked up another glass, dried it expertly, and stacked it.

“The windows were right by the rose garden,” Sofia said.

She sighed.

“They’re talking about installing motion-activated floodlights on that side of the building to keep this from happening again,” Sofia went on. She drained the last of the whiskey from the glass, and Gavin spirited the glass away. “But this seems like it was so random and weird, I don’t think it’s going to happen again.”

Gavin opened his mouth to say something, but a group of young men came in and started ordering beers, keeping Gavin occupied for the next ten minutes or so as Sofia drank her wine and played games on her phone.

When he came back to talk to her, her wine was gone, the money was on the bar, and she was leaving through the door.

Just as she left, Sofia heard the bar door open behind her, and she turned to see Gavin come out after her.

“Hey, wait up,” he said.

Sofia stopped, her eyebrows raised. She wasn’t exactly in the habit of being chased by incredibly attractive men, but she was also a little drunk and afraid of what she might say.

He put his big hands on both her shoulders and towered over her, looking down into her eyes.

He’s going to kiss me, she thought wildly, her heart hammering. Right here in the middle of town.

An older couple walked past them, talking loudly about panning for gold.

“I’m sure it will all work out,” he said. “Hell, you might even get those books back.”


Sofia frowned, slightly. It seemed like a slightly weird thing to say, out of nowhere.

“Maybe,” she said. “I’m not holding my breath.”

His eyes were so intense that she had to look away under their weight.

“Get a good night’s sleep,” he said. “It will seem better in the morning.”

“I hope so,” Sofia said.





Chapter Four





Sofia didn’t feel spectacular the next morning, but she didn’t feel awful, either. It took her a little extra time to get out of bed, wash her face and eat breakfast in the tiny studio sublet that she’d found for two months, but soon enough, she was heading down Main Street again, toward the library.

Today she wore pants. She knew they didn’t flatter her particular figure the same way that dresses did, but the California History Room was still a mess, and she’d be damned if she was spending another day on the floor, picking up and organizing newspapers in a skirt.

She even half expected the room to be in a shambles again, the plywood now covering the windows ripped out and everything she’d organized yesterday blown to bits again.

Instead, when she opened the door, everything was as she’d left it. That, at least, was a relief.





***





For a couple of hours, Sofia listened to podcasts and zoned out, reorganizing everything in the room by date and call number. It wasn’t her job, it was true, but she also understood that, besides her, no one was going to do it. Hell, even Thomas, the IT guy, only worked thirty hours a week. Even he wasn’t full time.

After lunch, there was a knock on the door, and Sofia crossed her fingers that it was him.

Ever since he’d turned down her invitation to go to the bar last night, she’d felt a little nervous about seeing him again, no matter how silly she knew that was.

It was just... she’d thought she’d felt some kind of spark between them. And so she’d asked him, casually, to go somewhere with her, even just as friends.

And he’d turned her down.

And even though getting dinner with his parents was totally valid and reasonable, she still felt funny about the whole thing.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled the door open to see his tall, handsome form waiting there.

“Microfiche reader repair man at your service,” he said, grinning down at her.

Sofia felt better instantly.

“You’re not busy with real work?” she asked, stepping aside and letting him into the room.

Thomas shut the door behind himself.

“I’ll tell you a secret,” he said. “I don’t have that much to do right now, and fiddling with an old machine and hanging out with you sounds pretty good.”

Sofia blushed, turning her face away.

The machine was still on the floor, a huge hunk of metal, glass, and plastic. Sofia hadn’t been able to budge it on her own, but she watched as Thomas bent, grabbed the thing, and then lifted it to the top of the desk as though it was no heavier than a pillow, the muscles in his forearms making his tattoo sleeves ripple.

I could watch that all day, Sofia thought.

He sat down, pulled some tools out of his back, and began taking the machine apart.

“I never actually asked what you’re getting your PhD in,” he said, unscrewing the screen.