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Checking Out Love
Checking Out Love
Checking Out Love
Ebook55 pages56 minutes

Checking Out Love

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Jeremy is a grad student with a quick mind and insatiable thirst for knowledge--and he’s currently most curious about is the infamously strict librarian at the small private library attached to his university. He has a weakness for devastatingly clever jerks, so despite his looming thesis, Jeremy decides to pay the famous special collection—and its curator—a visit. But instead of an intimidating beast of a librarian, he finds the librarian’s soft-spoken assistant, Benj.

Quiet, shy, guys with pretty eyes and handmade cardigans are not Jeremy’s type. Jeremy is too smart, and weird, for anyone so sweet. He’d walk all over them or find them boring after five minutes. Which doesn’t explain why he keeps coming back to the library, despite never once encountering the notoriously protective special collections librarian. Perhaps if he weren’t so distracted by Benj’s surprisingly impressive shoulders and the absolutely charming library he runs, he would notice there’s more to Benj than knitted sweaters.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherR. Cooper
Release dateApr 26, 2017
ISBN9781370741236
Checking Out Love
Author

R. Cooper

I'm a somewhat absentminded, often distracted, writer of queer romance. I'm probably most known for the Being(s) in Love series and the occasional story about witches or firefighters in love. Also known as, "Ah, yes, the one with the dragons."You can find me on in the usual places, or subscribe to my newsletter (link through website).www.riscooper.comI can also be found at...Tumblr @sweetfirebirdFacebook @thealmightyrisInstagram @riscoopsPillowfort @RCooperPatreon @ patreon.com/rcoopsBluesky @ rcooper.bsky.social

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    Book preview

    Checking Out Love - R. Cooper

    Checking Out Love

    R. Cooper

    Copyright © 2016 R. Cooper

    Cover art by Lyn Forester

    This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold

    or given away to other people.

    Four Oaks was half an hour from the university by freeway, or twenty or so minutes down a winding hill alongside a nature preserve. Jeremy managed the trip in about eighteen, taking the turns on his bike in a way that would have panicked his mother. She would have preferred he ride the train rather than use his little motorcycle on crowded freeways or narrow, curvy roads. But the train would have taken too long, and anyway, this was one of his ventures that his mother was never going to find out about.

    He’d been to the town once before for a gathering at a professor’s house. Four Oaks was a suburb, first of the university, then the other nearby colleges. Then, as the rent prices went up in the cities, it felt like everyone had fled to the surrounding areas. He could see why the place had been popular with the professor set for so long though. Four Oaks was laid out in neat lines. Near the center an old clock tower stood guard in the town square, and every avenue and boulevard he noted along the main road had lots of Victorian style buildings and cute shops, in addition to the necessary coffee house chains.

    He wasn’t totally out of place on his royal blue, rust-spotted bike, though he did slow down to a safe speed limit as he took in the amount of kids and teenagers running around with restless energy. They were spending more on sugary iced coffees than he probably spent on food every month, but such was the glamorous life of a grad student.

    The kids were also, by and large, heading in the same direction he was. He stopped at a traffic light and considered this ominous sign. He ought to make certain his directions were correct, but forgot all about consulting his phone when he looked over and realized that had to be his target in front of him.

    By target, he meant his destination. Obviously. Jeremy wasn’t out to get the magnificent red brick building taking up the next block. Obviously not. He didn’t have the money to buy a library, especially not a large one, in a historic building, in an upper middle class, mostly white suburb likes this.

    But if he could have figured out a way to buy this one, he would have considered it.

    He’d heard about the private library in Four Oaks, but seeing it was something else. Impressed despite himself, he took off when the light turned green, following the stream of cars pulling around the block to the space behind the library. The tiny, cramped parking lot had clearly not been part of the original building plan. Probably because the building itself was from the nineteenth century. No one parked in the street however; everyone was trying to avoid the parking meters.

    Some ventured across the street to a café, also overflowing with teens and pre-teens. Others left to circle the block. Jeremy parked at the edge of the lot, in a corner where no car would have fit, near—but not in front of—a No Parking sign.

    Beyond the sign, under a willow tree, a short path that led to a building nearly as intriguing as the library—a small, tucked away Painted Lady. The classic red brick of the library would have overshadowed the house if not for the pinks, blues, and mint greens of the scrollwork along the doors and windows, and the absolute sea of flowers on either side of the path.

    Jeremy blinked, just a little bit in love already although he’d been raised in a city apartment and would probably die in one. A wooden sign hanging from the railing along the porch read Four Oaks Historical Society and instructed those interested to contact the library information desk if they needed to make an appointment. The quirky, asymmetrical Victorian had been restored and repainted some time recently, but he’d bet those windows were the original single-paned glass, or something close. He’d freeze on winter nights, he decided, but sighed happily when he saw the tall column of the chimney.

    Then he noticed the rocking chair on the porch, complete with a long-haired orange cat. The cat was studying him—judging him. The cat was right to judge. Jeremy was getting ahead of himself again, big time. The Painted Lady that

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