Stepping away, he put a finger to his cheek, conveying he was deep in thought. “For example, Immanuel Kant was a real piss-ant who was very rarely stable.”
A huge grin spread on my face and I blurted out a loud laugh, singing, “Heidegger, Heidegger was a boozy beggar who could think you under the table.”
He paced in before me in a lecturer-like fashion. “Aristotle, Aristotle was a bugger for the bottle, and Hobbes was fond of his dram.” He bowed playfully for me to go next.
“And Rene Descartes was a drunken fart. I drink, therefore I am.’”
I covered my giggle with my hand, feeling light and flirtatious, and Rome, with a stunning smile, held up his hand for a high-five. I slapped it with gusto.
“So you’re a Monty Python fan?” I asked excitedly.
“Well, you can’t study philosophy and not be familiar with ‘Bruces’ Philosophers Song.’”
“I agree, but I never pegged you for a British comedy nut.”
He snorted. “It’s Python.” As simple as that. “So let’s go. I surprised you once with my philosophy knowledge. I’m pretty sure I can do it again.”
I waved dismissively. “Whatever, you’re twenty-one. I’m still only twenty and I’m already on my master’s. I doubt there’s anything you can show me, superstar. It’s my area of expertise.”
In a flash, Rome had jostled me into his chest and caught my earlobe between his teeth. “Maybe not in philosophy, but I can sure as hell show you other things, Mol—in my area of expertise.”
“And what’s that?” I asked breathlessly.
He pressed lingering lips on the furiously beating pulse on my throat. “Much more… pleasurable things than work.”
I froze and he moved before me, jerking me back into stride. “Come on, megabrain, let’s go research and get your dirty mind outta the gutter.”
* * *
Romeo stayed with me at the library for hours, helping me type up notes and research counterarguments for the paper. To give him his dues, he was extremely knowledgeable on the subject. He seemed different when we parted, somehow lighter, and I was too. His company settled me and although he could be abrupt and occasionally a bit scary, I found I liked it. But unfortunately, that meant I was right back to thinking about him constantly.
I had to go to the library again the day after, and I headed straight to the office door and turned the lock, only to find Romeo with his legs propped up on the desk, arms behind his head, with a smirk on his face. “It’s about time, Shakespeare. I’ve already written a goddamned thesis waitin’ on you.”“What are you doing here?” I asked with a radiant smile, happy that his lip looked less swollen and his knuckles were bandaged over.
Swinging his legs off the desk, he stood before me. “I’m here to assist the assistant. Put me to work. I’m eager to please.”
I placed my books on the table and put my hands on my hips. “You want to tell me how you got in here, in a locked room?”
Rome shrugged playfully. “I have a secret admirer in the librarian. She opened it for me after a little sweet talk.”
“Ms. Rose? She’s, like, ninety!”
“Cougar on the prowl, more like,” he quipped with a mock shiver.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Mm-hmm! And why, Romeo, do you want to help me write notes again?”
He lost his playful smile, the same flash of vulnerability that I saw spread across his face yesterday dulled his beautiful features, and he crossed his arms defensively. “You don’t want me here? I’ll go if I’m gettin’ in your way. I don’t wanna be where I’m not wanted.”
I moved before him and took his scowling face in my hands. “Hey, I didn’t say that. I’m just taken aback by the fact that you want to be here with me. It’s… nice to be with you, in any capacity.”
He tilted his head and pressed a kiss to my palm. “I like being around you too, Mol. I feel good when I am. Plus, I owe you for what you did for me yesterday.”
“You don’t owe me anything.”
His finger stroked down my cheek and I almost dropped to the floor. “I’m stayin’ with you.”
“What about your classes?”
“I’m stayin’ with you. I’m kinda becomin’ addicted.”
I swallowed. “Addicted?”
“That’s right. To you and how you make me feel.”
I blushed and fiddled with the strap on my bag. “Right, well… err… let’s get you to work, then.”