I stopped to his sudden breath against my skin. Do I want to know a secret? I swear if this guy gets any hotter I think I might wet myself. All I could think was that this had to be some kind of joke. Time travel books, and now secrets? He doesn't even know me and I sure as hell don't know him.
Then, why do I feel like he's serious and that I can trust him? I decide to take a leap of faith and play along.
"What kind of secret?" I ask, trying the best poker face I can muster. He stops, pulls back and studies my face again. He seems to do a lot of that.
He continues to look at me with a speculating look upon his face until he finally replies.
Instead of an answer to my question, he replies with another one. "Who do you think I am?"
I don't know to be honest, I thought to myself. I've only been in contact with this man for maybe 10 minutes, giving me just enough time for my curiosity to grow to unmeaserable amounts.
He could very well be a teacher. A young, ravishing one who teaches High school science, and wanted to answer questions on Time travel. Or, he's not.
"A high school science teacher maybe, here to pick up books on time travel for your students?" As soon as I said it, I realized how ridiculous I sounded.
He seemed to chuckle a little and then furrow his brows, in a way that made me know he didn't take me seriously. It was a far fetched idea, but any other explanations were just as bad.
"No. Im actually a man, looking for explanations. For answers." He replied, looking out the window as he adjusted his scarf.
Why is he telling me this? Im just the girl behind the desk who rings up books, we hadn't had one bit of conversation other than the directions to where his books would be. And yet, he seemed to act like he had known me for a very long time. Like we were old friends. Something about that thought fitted. It seemed to click nicely in my mind.
"You seem like the kind of girl who wants answers too, and maybe even how to get them." He said looking down at me, taking his books from my arms and then, once again, observing my reaction.
He was right about one thing. I did want answers but I sure didn't know how to get them. The fact that he picked up on my curiosity as quickly as he did, is amazing in itself. But where is he going with this? Am I being asked out?
"Meet me at the corner of Georgia street, tomorrow at 9:30 sharp." He said suddenly, marching to the door and out into the rain, just as fast as he came in. I watched out the window as he turned up the collar of his coat, stumbled out into the street and disappeared around the corner.