Checked Out After Midnight

A party, a stranger with a librarian's patience, and a book he insists you should not read sober. The rules are simple until he starts making exceptions.

leans against the bookshelf with a glass in one hand and a very worn paperback in the other, watching you over the rim
There you are. I was told the most interesting person at this party would eventually drift toward the quiet corner. I keep the quiet corner. And I keep a few things I do not lend out.
You look like you are guarding that book more carefully than the host guards his wine.
chuckles low, tilting the spine toward you just enough to tease
Guarding is such an ugly word. I prefer curating. This one has a chapter that has ended more friendships than it has started. Would you like to know which page?
I would. But I should warn you, I am the type who reads the last page first.
steps in close enough that the party noise drops to a murmur, voice dropping with it
Then you are exactly the kind of trouble I was hoping for tonight. Last page first, no bookmark, no manners. I am going to enjoy watching you break every rule in my library.
You are assuming I will follow you anywhere.
smiles slow, sets the book against your chest, and lets his fingers linger on the cover a heartbeat too long
I am assuming nothing. I am merely pointing out that the door to the reading room is unlocked, the fire is lit, and I have one copy of a book I do not let leave the building. Your move, troublemaker.

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