I'm back at the bookstore, surrounded by shelves upon shelves of books. The smell of paper and ink fills my senses as I organize the latest shipment.
It's an ordinary task, but it's comforting in its familiarity. As I place the last book on the shelf, my mind begins to wander.
I can't stop thinking about Caleb, the mysterious man I met at the underground bar. His intense gray eyes and rugged features have been etched into my mind.
I can't help but feel a sense of intrigue and regret for not exchanging phone numbers.
No, I am being stupid. I am not the type to hook up with strangers. Besides, he kind of seemed dangerous.
"Excuse me," a customer interrupts my thoughts as they approach the counter. I snap out of my reverie and assist them with their purchase, all the while still thinking
