Leanna Book 1: Chapter 36

Leanna Book 1

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This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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WARNING!

MATURE CONTENT and VULGAR words not suited for young readers below eighteen (18) years old.

Chapter 36: Central Park

“Leanna . . .” Cain gazed at me, pupils dilating so much that it was out of place from his cold exterior.

I was nervous again.

“Y-yes?”

“There’s something I need to buy at Strand’s Books Store, do you want to come?”

I should have told him ‘no,’ but all I thought were the words Strand’s Books Store.

Beloved and legendary, the iconic strand embodies downtown NYC’s intellectual bona fide –– a bibliophiles’ Oz., where generations of book lovers lose themselves for hours. (Lonely Planet)

Visiting this place is on my bucket list.

“I’ll GO!”

As soon as we arrived in the iconic bookstore, my eyes twinkled. If it wasn’t for the many people looking at us, specifically, looking at Cain, I had long jumped from excitement.

“You go and enjoy yourself. After I buy my book, I’ll just be here.” Cain pointed at an empty table.

“Mmmm . . .” I didn’t get what he said as I ignored him and roam around. I wiped my drool and start from the very far end, determined not to leave any corners unscathed.

It was two in the afternoon when I finished my hunt. My hands were carrying piles and piles of books as I made my way towards the counter.

Before I could reach my destination, however, out from the corner of my eyes, I saw a group of beautiful, sexy women, surrounding a cold, indifferent man.

See! With these beauties around him all the time, how serious can he be?!

HMP!

I paid them no mind and made my way to the cashier. Halfway, I was startled by the appearance of large hands, and the piles of books I was carrying were now gone.

“I’ll help you.”

Before I could even protest, Cain was already in front of the cashier, paying for my books. I scrambled to my feet and stopped him, but the cashier already accepted his money.

“How much?” I said, not hiding my annoyance.

“My treat for you accompanying me here,” he said and carried the tote bag full of my books. “You roam around some more. I’ll carry this to the car.”

He then walked to the exit.

I quickly followed him. “No need, I’ve already bought everything I wanted.” I glanced at him. “Where’s your book?”

“Sold out.”

“. . .”

“Thank you,” I said.

Thank you for taking me here and waited for four hours.

“. . . My pleasure . . .” He didn’t spare me a glance as he stared ahead. His expression a little softer.

Inside his car, I was engrossed in reading the books I hauled.

“Are you hungry? Do you want to eat something?” Cain asked while driving, eyes on the road.

“No, I want to go home and read,” I replied, brushing him off.

Since his confession, I had long erased the cordiality between us. Cain seemed not to mind and was even happy about it.

Instead of going back to my condo unit, he stopped his car near Central Park. My lips parted, going to ask him why he stopped when he spoke first.

“The air here is fresh, and there’s a spot here near the lake where you can lay on the grass and read your books in silence.”

I wanted to say ‘no,’ really, but my eyes kept shifting at the green lush and serene blue ponds.

I couldn’t stop imagining myself laying on the soft grass under the shade of a willow tree while spring breeze blew my hair as the lake glittered under the sparkling sun.

“. . .”

“. . . Okay.”